The forlorn opens the forbidden pass

Bearing a soul with pure intent.

Once my champion overcomes his impasse

My full rebirth he shall foment.

No matter how much I try to drive it out of my skull, the cultist’s words keep looping in my mind. I don’t believe it and I have no idea what the rest of the Prophecy entails, but there are parallels between myself and the champion being described. Tascus seems to believe the ‘forlorn’ is separate from Maleosis’ champion, but they could easily be one and the same. Worse, while Tascus’ plan for summoning his dark god is vague at best… mine would be far more concrete.

Rebirth. Meaning to return anew. That one word troubles me so because it implies Maleosis has walked this world before. And once I overcome my ‘impasse’, I will have opened the ‘forbidden pass’… that is the art of resurrection.

Is it possible that once I have returned Helena to this world, I will pave the way for the second coming of Maleosis? Given the mechanics of the World Stream, all skills are archived and then circulated throughout the globe, allowing others to more easily reproduce said abilities. It’s half the reason why Tascus was able to learn my so quickly, notwithstanding his monstrous magical talent. Of course, it’s possible to cast magic without the processing power of the World Stream, but it’s something I can ill afford. I’ve never seriously considered the ramifications of creating resurrection magic and I have a feeling it’s what Takashi meant by disrupting the natural order. However, there is one other implication that disturbs me more than the abuse of my research: the idea that everything was preordained.

Was it inevitable that I would come this world in this wretched form? Was it inevitable that I would encounter such trials that I’m forced to disgrace my former self? Was it inevitable that I would fall in love with Helena, and then watch as she faded in my arms, all so I can be set on this accursed path?

The more I think about it, the more miserable I end up becoming. I’m wasting my time entertaining some farcical idea propagated by a bunch of psychopaths. There is no way in hell I believe Maleosis is an almighty god who is secretly guiding my every action. Nonetheless, there are two things that I cannot ignore.

One: you don’t have to be an omniscient being to divine a prophecy. The World Stream crosses both space and time, so it’s theoretically possible to peer into the future. Everything could be set in stone, which means it is no longer a matter of free will or evil gods, but one of inevitability. Alternatively, if the future can be changed, then the Prophecy may have come from a timeline where I do summon Maleosis, and now it’s being transmitted to another past to inflict such an outcome. While the easiest way to change the future would be to give up on Helena, it is an impossibility for me, and thus, a near-certainty for the Prophecy.

Secondly: no matter who or what it may be, no matter what grand designs or ill intentions it may bear, there is but one, immutable truth: Maleosis exists. I can feel its aura, its influence, its writhing touch on my soul at any and every moment. I don’t know if it is a malignant entity, or some virus-like phenomenon, neither dead nor alive, that has been spawned from the collective consciousness of humanity. The fact that this thing is an inseparable part of me is disturbing enough already, but I can’t stomach the thought that it’s slowly stealing away my soul and my agency… like a crippling illness.

… and yet, deep down, you actually want to believe it is so.

*Sigh* I’m doing it again.

You’re talking to yourself using . At this rate, you might really develop a split personality.

I’ve already given the pet name “Crest”. I don’t plan on making a “Patrick”. Now, why on Aren would I want to believe my life is being ruined by some dark god?

It’s because your life is a goddamn mess. You feel as if the world is pressuring you from all directions, and yet each challenge is almost mutually exclusive.

Even if you bring back Helena, she can’t relieve you of your intrinsic grudge. Even if you uphold your moral code, it won’t sate your ever-growing hunger. Even if you extend your lifespan, it would be meaningless without her in it. That’s why you find the idea of an omnipresent enemy so appealing, because it would tie all these disparate elements together, even if it doesn’t improve your situation in the slightest.

Then the solution is simple. I’ll just stabilise my condition first, then focus on her resurrection second.

So you’re willing to use the elder lich’s core for yourself over her? Certainly, Helena would want you to do that, but what of your moral rot?

Same as before. Continue to use my past life as reference and keep drawing new lines in the sand.

Or so you say, and yet you still have the souls of those cultists in your core. Since when did you start weaponizing human souls?

That is different. I only ever swore not to defile Helena’s soul.

It’s the convictions you are least conscious of that speak the loudest. Face it Enbos, you can’t keep drawing lines in the sand for everything. You’ll only end up digging a shallow grave. It’s a shame really. You were so close to defining the perfect embodiment of all that you will come to hate, but in the end, “that man’s” philosophy blurred everything. Should both parties be unilaterally labelled an object of your malice, or should you submit to the will of a foreign mass and overlook it like everybody else? In the end, you've taken one step forward and one step back, except you deluded the first step.

For Pete’s sake, why am I imagining you to be this much of a pain?

Like I said Enbos, you’re looking for something to focus all your indiscriminate malice. Because at the heart of it all, I can never accept how irrational this world, this ‘life’, really is.

“-eport… Report, Enbos Novuseus! You’ve been sitting there for the better part of an hour.”

“… Thank you, Sir Iudico.”

“Whatever for?”

“For being such an insufferable existence that it’s nigh impossible to gather my thoughts.”

Dusk is fast approaching and I’m sitting atop a mat with my patented magic extender, looking out across the hill-dotted plains. Maximillian is standing beside me, looking down with his trademarked glare and slowly tapping a finger on his crossed arms. I deliberately take my time to get up and pick off the wind-swept grass from my cloak.

“Well, heretic?”

“Nothing concrete, I’m afraid. I’ve marked the distance and trajectory so you will have to be content with that for now.”

“It has been two days, Enbos. Two days since we departed on this chase. Three since you promised you would lead us to Tascus’ lair. And yet all you have done is take us on a leisurely tour across the countryside.”

“Hmph, how ungrateful. Is it not thanks to me that there is even an expedition? Is it not thanks to me that we discovered the cultists’ last camp, thus focusing your efforts west? Compared to aimlessly searching from Catorrem as a focal point, I’d say I’ve already improved your chances fourfold.”

“And nothing more. Don’t presume this will suffice for your amnesty, Enbos, especially when your idea of “tracking” is to lead our entire convoy along a major road, because apparently the New Dawn cult is hiding in a roadside house.”

“It’s called triangulation, you dim-witted knight, and I would be having a much easier time if you’d managed to find a halfway-decent map in the first place.”

“Do you not possess even a modicum of modesty, you accursed mage? I’m already procuring charts with the same value as strategic weapons and yet still you cannot deliver. You have no room for excuse, and I swear to God that if you do not find anything significant by tomorrow noon, I’ll detonate that device around your-”

“Is… something the matter, sirs?”

Dropping our heated exchange, we turn to find a man in light armour standing several paces away. Although he is admirably maintaining his composure, he can’t hide the beads of cold sweat on his brow. We both immediately withdraw our hostile auras and attempt to recoup the situation.

“No, there is nothing of concern, sergeant. Although we encountered some difficulty, it is not dire.”

“Indeed, everything is going swimmingly between us. Still, it’s a bit embarrassing you had to see that display. Let’s not spread this misunderstanding and just keep it to ourselves, okay?”

“Understood, Master Novuseus!”

“Now then, what brings you all the way here, sergeant? Do you have something for Sir Iudico or myself?”

“Yes sir. I have come to report that the last convoy of adventurers has arrived, Sir Iudico. Also, the items Master Novuseus requested from our lord were delivered alongside them. They’ve already been deposited on your desk,” he says to me.

“I see,” says Maximillian. “Then, it is time to provide the briefing. Enbos, return to your quarters and continue your work. I will send someone to retrieve you once I am ready.”

“Very well. Let us be off.”

“And remember Enbos: may the light always shine upon you.”

Keeping silent, I pack up my mat and follow the sergeant back to camp, all while Maximillian’s intense gaze continues to assail me. Ever since our last interrogation, he has assumed a cold and consummate demeanour, with a clear adverseness towards myself. Even so, he appears especially agitated today and I’m in no mood to entertain him.

Walking through the campsite, we arrive outside a cottage-sized tent where another soldier is standing guard. With night fast approaching, the sergeant takes his leave and I withdraw into the tent for the night. Inside, the tent is almost empty, save for my possessions in the corner and a large wooden table with a chair in the centre. A cloth-bound package is waiting atop, and after a quick inspection, I sprawl the contents across the table.

Maps. Including the ones from Maximillian, I now have over a dozen in my possession. The recent ones are the most important as they show the common mana streams in the vicinity, with blue and red bands flowing into and out of the city respectively, and confirmed life wells and life falls labelled across the land. Long-distance teleportation is only possible if you’re riding the flow of mana, which means the cultists must have teleported along the blue lines since Catorrem is built atop a life well. Using like an augmented reality display, I begin marking my HUD with all the essential details from the maps, focusing my attention on the western front. After an hour of drawing and resizing the prints, I “upload” the information from the other maps and virtually superimpose on one another. However…

“… Damn it, they’re still not lining up.”

Well, I guess that’s to be expected when satellite technology hasn’t been invented. Coming from a dozen sources, the differences add up, especially for remote and dangerous areas that are only ever explored by adventurers. Still, this is the best I’ve got, or rather, it’s the best this world has to offer. I begrudgingly accept the maps for what they are and overlay my bearings from the field. The cones of vision overlap and highlight a section of the map, though it’s such a large area that I can’t help but hang my head in frustration.

Although I have a ghost that’s acting like a compass, I can’t actually see the damn thing, and blindly following it would be as practical as telling someone to head North to get to Santa’s workshop. Worse, I have a feeling my invisible friend is having trouble as of late, like it’s connection to the core has suddenly weakened. That’s why I’ve been using the magic extender in hopes it would strengthen the signal, but to no avail. At this rate, I may spend another night tinkering with my staff and the Mellivorath’s core if I don’t reach a breakthrough.

“Tascus base has to be near a life fall. Hey Hachirou, where do you reckon-

…”

… Right. Stupid me. Hachirou is back in Catorrem, along with everybody else. Good, grief, I never thought I would be this sentimental after only three days.

No, that’s not accurate. It’s not “three days” but “72 hours”. Now that I think about it, not since I trained in the dead zone near Yamagakure have I been isolated for such a period of time, and before then, I was always surrounded by the Nomura clan. Lili was right to say I was “blessed” with good company, although when I began this journey, I was prepared to travel alone.

Alone... with all my thoughts.

“Master Novuseus! This is Corporal Bryson. I have come to escort you to the gathering.”

“… Thank you, Bryson. I will be out shortly.”

After packing up all the maps, I exit the tent and follow the soldier to the centre of the camp. A large clearing has been prepared, with hundreds of adventurers filling one end, and hundreds more soldiers on the other. At the head of the crowd is Maximillian, standing in the middle of a row of fully-armoured holy knights. Our eyes meet but he doesn’t utter a word as I let my guide go and watch from the side of the clearing. Nevertheless, there are plenty of curious glances and hushed whispers as the closest adventurers take note of my presence.

(Hey, who the heck is that creepy guy?)

(I hear he is Enbos the Black.)

(The Black-cloaked Berserker who fought off a hundred cultists? I thought he was supposed to have horns?)

So that’s what they’re calling me nowadays. Dear lord, I didn’t expect the song to spread so fast, and already it’s getting embellished. I’m not sure if this is for better or worse, although everybody is still keeping their distance.

“… here. Over here, Enbos!”

“Hm? By the spirits… you guys!”

Walking towards me with beaming faces, Sen, Minna and Norf emerge from the wary crowd as I move to meet them halfway. I clap Sen’s raised hand in greeting, resulting in pained groans as Minna admonishes him for using his injured right while Norf looks on with a slight grin. Likewise, I can’t help but smile at the sight of their familiar antics.

“It’s good to see you all again. I was afraid you were caught up in the attack on Catorrem.”

“Likewise, Enbos. When we heard you were in Maximillian’s custody, we feared the worst. I’m glad you’re faring well.”

“I don’t know, Sen. In my book, “faring well” means being able to walk a hundred paces without an inquisitor breathing down your neck.”

“I’m guessing your second session with Iudico didn’t go so well,” says Minna.

“Uhuh, and now, my fate rests on the success of this mission. By the way, Sen, if you answered Maximillian’s summons, does that mean…”

“Yeah.”

“… I see.”

They still want to save their friend Erik, hanging onto the remote chance that he is still alive. Of course, this entire expedition hinges on my ability to find Tascus’ base, although I much rather like the idea that I’m helping them than Maximillian or myself.

“Hm? Come to think of it, if you’re all here does that mean-”

“Right over here, my jobber.”

“Sig!”

Sen exclaims at Sig’s sudden arrival. Evidently, he did not arrive here with the others. I offer a friendly greeting, although honestly, I’m mentally preparing myself for his barrage of nonsense.

“Roc’ing as ever, my man. You know, I was getting worried about where you and your kid fairy-ed off after that night.”

“Hoh, so you didn’t hear anything?”

“Not a wisp. I was waiting for you two outside the garrison, but then it started raining bricks and mortar so I had to leg it. Real drake that you got caught by the “Bloody Hand” in the end, though. Feels like I left you to a harpy.”

“Not at all, Sig. We all got wrapped up in that mess. So, what brings you on this merry expedition?”

“Did you forget, Enbos my man? A jobber I may be, but I’m still a man of the Word. Course I can’t turn a blind eye to all the drakeness going on. That said, there’s more than one mupped up around these parts,” he says as tilts his head towards the holy knights. His usual smirk seems to have a hint of scorn, but its too subtle for me to be sure.

“… To be frank, I’m feeling we’re on a real ba~d stream right now.”

“Why is that?” I ask.

“Cause the prior over there rounded up the best of us not too long ago, and sad to say, our “best” ain’t any better at throwing it down with the likes of me.”

“Wait, if I’m not misunderstanding… a-are you saying there are no A or S rank adventurers!?” exclaims Minna, picking apart Sig’s words.

“None that I know the mugs of, and believe me, I’ve been places, seen faces. Those knights seemed really miffed about it, too. I won’t tell you to ditch this joint, but you’ve gotta stay as sharp as a mithril sword, especially with clients like those.”

“Wait, what are you trying to-”

“Whoops, sorry Enbos but they’re rallying up B-rankers to the front. Won’t be long before they start. Catch you all later. Say hallo to Hachirou for me.”

“Yeah, later Sig.”

“... A-are we really going to face a monster like Tascus with no A or S rank adventurers? Then again, the holy knights are not deadweight themselves, s-so I guess they can make up for it.”

“Perhaps Sen,” muses Minna, “although I still find their absence a bit strange. Oh, and speaking of reasons for being here, why are you even here, Enbos?”

“Yeah, that’s right. I mean, if we knew we would be meeting so soon, we wouldn’t have had that sent off yesterday.”

“That?”

“It will reach you eventually, so please don’t pay any mind,” says Minna. “But what I’m trying to ask is: why is Maximillian leaving you be, Enbos? Honestly, we all expected you to be under lock and key. There isn’t even a guard accompanying you!”

“Well, funny story about that, Minna,” I say while glancing sidelong at Maximillian who is undoubtedly ears dropping from distance. Conveniently, the adventurers start distancing themselves after mistaking my silent glare.

(… You know how Iudico completely bungled the protection of the city? The lord of Catorrem was pretty upset, especially with the Primera Carro ruined and the city’s secure reputation tarnished. He blamed everything on the Holy Knights since they were the target of Tascus’ raid, and was indisposed to lift even a finger for Maximillian’s cause.)

(Then what are all these soldiers doing here?) wonders Sen.

(The only reason they’re here is because I stepped in to mediate. I used “my” family name and promised a few benefits in return for his cooperation. At that point, Maximillian couldn’t possibly introduce me as his prisoner…)

(… because he would risk losing half his forces if he did. Actually, he wouldn’t even be able to call this many adventurers without the city lord’s approval.)

(Exactly, Minna.)

The Novuseaus family are held in high regard for constructing Catorrem’s famous walls. Moreover, my magic extender would be an absolute boon for a merchant city that is quickly adopting teleportation magic. I seriously can’t thank “Mr Terrace” enough for this fake emblem. The city lord even called in members from the local branch to legitimise the deal, all without suspecting a thing. Moreover, the city lord also doesn’t seem to understand, or rather, believe the gravity of the situation, so he’s liable to suddenly pull out and jeopardise the entire operation if there’s nothing to gain. With the soldiers watching, I have to keep up appearances until everything is settled.

“By the spirits, Enbos, you’re far more cunning than I thought,” remarks Minna. “Nevertheless, I still find it hard to believe your security is so light.”

“*Sigh* Well, he did prepare some… “comprehensive” measures, but I’m in no position to explain.”

“You don’t have to. Now that I look around, I don’t see Hachirou anywhere.”

“Yeah, Minna,” follows Sen, “I’m guessing that dastard Maximillian has him under custody. Honestly, it’s no better than taking him hos- Ah, that’s right! Enbos, did you hear what happened to Lili?”

“No, but I’m guessing Maximillian pulled some strings since she wasn’t present for my last questioning.”

“Oh, you have no idea. Fancy this…” (Turns out, Lili is actually a noble! I mean, I always thought she was too stunning to be a common adventurer, but I had no idea!)

“Wow, really? I would never have guessed.”

“… Why do I have a feeling that you already knew?” critiques Minna. “Still, that is besides the point. Lili has been confined to an inn for the “sake of her safety”. We were with her when they broke the news, and… she looked absolutely devastated by what Iudico pulled.”

“Yeah. Between you and her, that inquisitor is a real nasty piece of work. I don’t know what kind of life nobles lead, but I’m sure Lili was much happier living as an adventurer. I hope they will let her go after this, but…”

“I know, Sen. It’s never that simple,” I finish. “Honestly, a part of me is glad Hachirou and Lili will be away from the hell we’re walking into. That said, I can’t help but feel we are all the lesser without-”

Hm? Did two of the adventurers in the back secretly wave at me?

W-wait a second, that’s Lili and Hachirou! Why on Aren are they doing here? Did they break out of house arrest and disguise themselves with ? It’s no wonder Maximillian looked so peeved earlier. He must be trying to keep me in the dark, but now that I know…

“Enbos? What’s-”

As Sen is about to finish, Norf suddenly taps on his and Minna’s shoulders before pointing to the front. There appears to be some movement among the knights as they summon .

“Looks like the briefing is about to start.”

“Seems so. Hey Enbos, would it be better for you if we moved to the back?”

“Thanks, Sen. Let’s- Oops! Sorry about-”

“Hey, watch where you’re walking, you third-rate adventurer! Don’t you know who I… Huh?”

“YOU!”

Reacting in perfect unison, we point at each other and yell with sudden recognition. Naturally, we draw quite a bit of attention. Maximillian is silently groaning that the commotion has something to do with me, although frankly I’m too shocked to care.

It’s that stereotypical B-rank clown I knocked out ages ago. Same as ever, he’s a large, mean-spirited buffoon with two comical henchmen in tow. Erm, what was his name again?

“Dion the Destroyed?”

“Destroyer! It’s Destroyer, you stuck-up punk!”

“Oh, sorry about that. I accidentally spoke my mind.”

“You bloody little slime! I swear I’m gonna-!”

“Excuse me, Enbos, but do you know this guy?”

“Actually Minna, the funny story is-”

“Never met him.”

“Eh?”

“I said this is our first meeting, got that! Out of my way. Let’s go, you guys.”

“… Trouble, Enbos?”

“*Sigh* No Sen, but an unpleasant surprise nonetheless. Anyway, let’s forget about him and find a seat.”

Ding! Ding!

Two clear rings resonate across the camp. Inquisitor Iudico passes a hand bell to his attendant and steps forth into the limelight. Before his overwhelming presence, both magical and instinctive, everybody falls silent without him uttering a word. His cold gaze passes over the crowd like a brisk breeze.

“Good evening, everyone. I would like to take this moment to thank all of you for answering my summons. As you are aware, I am Maximillian Iudico, Prior of the Cleansing Swords, Inquisitor of the Order of Holy Knights, and I have called upon you to ask for your strength for the most noble of causes. For in these lands, there is an evil that will ruin the lives of millions for generations to come. Many of you have already seen the damage they have wrought upon the great city of Catorrem, and if left unchecked, countless more tragedies will follow. I do not lie when I say we stand on the precipice of a terrible darkness, and only when we unite in God’s name shall we purge this menace...”

(… This isn’t good.)

(What do you mean, Sen?)

(Look around, Enbos. Although the soldiers seem convinced, all his talk of causes and such is not going well on our side. Maximillian completely misunderstands what it means to be an adventurer. The way he’s saying it makes it sound like all the credit will go to the Church.)

(Yeah, and it exposes his inexperience, too, which is especially bad for an expedition as big as this) chimes in Minna. (Without A rank adventurers to back him up, I’d wager a fair number of us are going to leave.)

“… Lieutenant Gregoria, show them.”

Agnes nods her head and points a stave at the air above the inquisitor’s head. A thin membrane of mana is created, on which a series of images are being reflected like a slideshow projector.

“Our target is the Cult of the New Dawn. According to our sources, they have grown quickly over the past few years and are now regarded to be the largest operating heretical force on the continent. We do not know their exact numbers, but their followers are believed to number more than a thousand. They mainly operate in these lands and terrorise rural outposts, although signs have been found as far as the east side of the Theocracy. Recently, they have been responsible for the occupation of at least two settlements, one of which has been issuing a provincial quest to lure in adventurers for the past several months. That is the true nature of the so-called “cursed quest”.”

Hushed whispers break out among the adventurers. While many are casting sidelong glances at me and my companions, a few are expressing shocked horror, as if knowing somebody who had disappeared during that quest. One of knights ring the hand bell once more, returning our attention to the front.

“Fortunately, their plan was foiled, but many of the villagers and adventurers that went missing are still unfound. Although we cannot confirm, it is likely that most of them are still alive. As such, our mission is two-fold: recover the missing persons, and purge the New Dawn cult completely from this world. Unfortunately, this undertaking will not be so simple. Lieutenant?”

“Yes, prior. From what our intelligence unit has been able to gleam, the cult has a main base situated in these lands. Our search team, in collaboration with the Novuseaus house, is following a lead as we speak. Like all cults, the New Dawn cult have their own set of misguided beliefs, although theirs are particularly blasphemous. They claim their dark god and the Path of Eden’s almighty lord are one and the same.”

“An unforgiveable affront indeed. However, by posing their faith as a “refinement” of the Word, they have been able to spread their lies far more effectively than most. Worse…”

“… there are indications other cults have been welcomed to their fold. As of this morning, we have received reports of more than thirty cultist incursions on this side of the Reinsol Kingdom. All linked to the New Dawn cult, yet not all bearing their mark.”

Overhead, Agnes projects a map of the Kingdom, with red circles marking all the reported attacks. There is disquiet amongst our ranks as they come to realise the seriousness of this expedition. However, only a few of us truly understand the implications. As Maximillian waits for the crowd to digest the information, Sen asks me a question.

(Hey, Enbos. I get that Tascus is stirring up trouble, but what did he mean by other cults are falling in line? Don’t they all follow the same-) “Ow!”

Before I can even feign ignorance, Minna very smartly jabs Sen in the side, knowing I’m in no position to answer.

Of course I know what’s going on. Although all cultists follow the same god, there is no overarching doctrine outside of Maleosis’ name. Between the necronomicons in my possession and the ones I’ve read back at Nomura Takumi’s lab, all have different practices and psalms dedicated to their dark god. This is what makes cultists such an ever-present yet ever-marginal threat to society, as the flexible dogma can suit any delusional believer but at the cost of cohesion. However, if Tascus is able to unite the disparate clans as Maleosis’ champion… he would have an army. In stark contrast, this is all the men we can hope to muster. There’s no doubt in my mind that these skirmishes are the reason no high levelled adventurers are among us, but as Tascus gains more followers, it will only get harder for Maximillian to procure them.

“According to our records, the New Dawn cult is strictly hierarchical in structure, with seniority determined by the strength of their unholy blessing. From the cultists slain on the night of the Primera Carro, we have determined that they possess , the lesser form of the . Not much is known about the effect of this mark as it appears the cultists themselves are oblivious to its true mechanism. However, the brand is also one of the most common and weakest blessings a cultist can manifest. Records suggest it only provides a small boost to magical ability, although it can vary between cases…”

Like hell that’s true! I saw Tascus summon lightning from the sky, turn the ground into his personal sandbox and summon enough destructive power to put a modern warhead to shame. There is definitely more to the and Tascus has clearly mastered it. I tried using on one of the cultists’ souls I had in storage, but all that comes up is the blessing’s name. Worse, Tascus still has a second, unknown blessing, which comes with being an Apostle and represents one of the eight aspects of Maleosis. I dearly hope Maximillian isn’t underestimating him.

“… With every passing day, the number of incidents and missing villagers will only grow,” continues the straight-faced prior. “The royal army is weeks away, and almost every standing force and adventurers guild in these lands are preoccupied with the attacks. There is but one medicine, and it must be administered immediately: cut off the head of their hierarch.”

“The target goes by the name of Tascus, and according to first hand accounts, he is a Dark Apostle with strength equivalent to a high-tier S rank adventurer,” follows Agnes. “His capabilities include master rank offensive magic, teleportation and the ability to manipulate matter with his vast mana. He appearance is that of a towering man dressed in black, wearing a gold-gilded mask in the shape of a ram’s head. His facial features are unknown, although he is judged to be of senior age. This is yet to be confirmed, but his appearance matches a description in an adventurer’s report from two years prior, which is associated with the deaths of at least three A rank parties at-”

“Allow me to be perfectly clear,” intercedes Maximillian before the crowd can erupt in protest, “the priory will be responsible for dealing with the hierarch. Under no circumstances are you to engage him in combat or to interfere with our endeavours. Your focus will solely be to set up a perimeter around their base, eliminate Tascus’ followers and rescue the hostages. However, even ignoring their hierarch, it will be a perilous yet critical undertaking, possibly the most important in all our lives. If we fail, every denizen of these lands – peasant or noble, believer or not – will be changed forever. So I ask you now, noble souls: do you accept our quest?”

Although Maximillian has done his best to sell the severity of the situation without mentioning the core, there is a flash of disappointment across his face as the adventurers look to one another in hesitation. An inexperienced leader, no high-ranking adventurers, no information on location or numbers, an undoubtedly powerful foe… it’s going exactly as Sen and Minna predicted. I can’t blame anybody if they decide to leave now and instead take up one of the dozens of cultist suppression requests that have just popped up. He probably thinks it’s natural for people to work together in the face of adversity, but nobody is going to believe this is a civilisation-ending event. I can almost hear Maximillian sigh as he continues his doomed pitch.

“Of course, such heroic deeds will not go unrewarded.”

Hm?

“Truthfully, we had planned to invite A and S rank adventurers, but circumstances have disallowed us of that luxury. As such, all the compensation we have prepared will instead be presented to all of you…”

As Maximillian says these words, two knights haul a large metal chest and dramatically drop it at their prior’s feet. The lid then swings open to reveal thousands of golden fablars, magnetising the stupefied gazes of everybody in the vicinity.

“Seven fablars for every fighter, three more if the captives are saved, and another five if the entire cult has been properly disposed. While we may have Tascus’ head, the glory of bringing down the Cult of the New Dawn will be thanks to the noble soldiers and virtuous adventurers of Catorrem. For in our darkest hour, against the most of vile foes, you chose to stand with us in the light. Do you want to return as heroes?”

“OOOHHH!”

“Do you want to be forever remembered in our Path’s annals?”

“OOOOOHHH!”

“Do you accept our quest?”

“OOOOOOOHHH!!!”

Doing a complete one-eighty, almost everybody in the crowd breaks out in excitement. As for me, I can’t help but applaud the power of money. Maximillian continues to wax more lyrical, but at this point, he’s already got everybody wrapped around his finger. The only thing I’m worried about is how he is downplaying the cultist capabilities outside of Tascus. I wouldn’t call it contempt, but he still has the same cold eyes as at the beginning of the briefing.

“… Well Enbos, it seems he managed to get everyone riled up. Honestly, if I didn’t have a personal stake in all this, I would have been tempted by the reward as well.”

“Indeed, Sen. Fifteen fablars for a small band of adventurers is generous enough, but to be paid to each adventurer, regardless of rank, is unheard of,” explains Minna. “In truth, it only makes me more nervous. It’s almost as if he’s expecting a sizeable number of casualties.”

“I think so too, but you’ve all resolved yourselves, haven’t you?”

“… Honestly Enbos, after everything we’ve been through, it would be stranger if I didn’t have a few doubts,” answers Sen in a sombre tone. “I’m leading everybody into something more dangerous than what we have ever done before. I won’t deny it, not anymore. Still, I know we can overcome this together, especially with a friend like you. Will you lend us your strength?”

“All you had to do was ask.”

“Heh, I knew you would say that. Still… thanks. The three of us will be heading off to register, although I don’t think we’ll meet again until morning.”

Pointing behind me, I turn to find a soldier on attendance to retrieve me. More importantly, I can see Maximillian glaring at me in the background.

“… See you soon, everyone.”

“Best of luck, Enbos. Although I don’t know what you are going through, I do know that you need all the help you can get.”

Escorted by a nervous guard, it’s not long before I’m standing in front of my cavernous tent, deathly silent and resolved for the long night ahead. My escort promptly leaves, and in his place, I greet the private standing guard outside. He seems on the verge of telling me something, but for some reason, he decides to bide his tongue. Ignoring him, I enter the opening and…

“What the heck is that?”

I find a large sack resting on top of my chair. Judging by the magical seal, it appears to be another package from Catorrem, which is weird because I haven’t requested anything aside from the maps. At the very least, I’m confident it’s not a trap as the Holy Knights would have inspected the contents beforehand.

“Then again, that might actually be more cause for con- Huh!?”

Peering within, I’m taken aback by a familiar face staring back at me: a clay mask in the shape of a deer’s head, restored to its former glory. Sheepishly, I pick up my mask and inspect the handiwork of the artisan who repaired it. With the wear mended and the coloration returned, I’m only now realising how much my travels have taken its toll. I run my finger along the filled-in fracture on the ceramic cheek, and although the craftsmanship is perfect, my mind is not. My every touch leaves an invisible smear.

As I rest my mask upon the table, I suddenly realise that there is more to the sizeable bag. I reach inside and remove a large object that I had completely overlooked: a steel breastplate tailored to my specifications. Although I already figured this package is from Sen and the others, I was not expecting my equipment to arrive so soon. And that’s not all.

“Seriously, I thought I said no souvenirs.”

A hardcover book and a bottle of liquor wrapped in cloth. I have no idea what kind of drink it is, but it doesn’t seem to be your run-of-the-mill brew. As for the book, it is obviously a second-hand copy, with yellowed pages and empty grooves which once held embroidery. “The Bondoc Murderer”, eh? Sounds like an interesting read for this silent night.

“… Honestly you guys, how do you keep coming up with ways to worm into my heart?”

While it’s likely Hachirou’s suggestion, it’s almost uncanny how they’ve inadvertently come to my aid. This isn’t the work of fate or god, but by a couple of good people who are way too nice to a weirdo like me. Regardless…

“Thank you. I’m glad to have met you all,” I say as I open the bottle and prepare to “drink” in solidarity.

… Oh shoot! I forgot I was wearing my flat mask. Even with I can’t stop it getting on my clothes and- Goddamn it! Some of it even got on the maps!

As I desperately use magic to erase my mess, I’m suddenly drawn to a certain location beneath my dry cloth: Rever Point. A small mountain that I have never visited or seen in print. Still, the name sounds familiar. Where have I…

“… this rate we won’t meet the quota!”

“Those crazed fools want us to deliver two dozen slaves to Rever Point…”

Ah, that’s right. It was back when I was at the underground guild. I overheard it from some seedy… Huh, hold up. Why would they deliver slaves to an unpopulated area of the country? There isn’t even an outpost, life well or… Wait a minute. Some of the outgoing mana streams seem to converge on this area.

“Could it be… there’s a hidden life fall!?”

I’m only speculating, but the location makes too much sense. It’s well within the area of possibility that I mapped out and it’s close enough to Tiel Plains for teleportation. My gut is telling me I’m on track, but I need something else to cement my suspicions. After all, I can’t just tell Maximillian I learnt it from the underground guild.

“Come on, there has to be something in these maps. How could a high-magic density area be so easily overlooked? No, it’s entirely possible that Tascus’ spies have doctored the information. Still, some random adventurer must have reported some magical ore or dangerous… monster?”

Of course, the Mellivorath! The Mellivorath we encountered was only drawn to Tiel Woods because of the Boulder Beetle infestation, but where did it come from? Even the deadly Vivian Forest was only able to sustain B rank Treants. A monster of that class, with such a high-quality magic core can only ever mature in a life fall, and yet the nearest registered spot is more than a hundred kilometres away.

Hmmm, I wonder. If I use to overlay the incidents map that Agnes showed during the briefing… There are no reported attacks close to Rever Point. In fact, all the incidents roughly fan out from the area, as if they’re trying to draw attention away. And if they’re secretly collecting slaves, or rather, sacrifices for the Ascension…

“Oi, you! Get your butt in here!”

“Y-yes, Master Novuseus!?”

“No, not you, private! I’m talking about the knight slinking around outside. Tell Maximillian that I’ve found his cult!”