"Ramon told me something about that," I comment, moving to one of the study's windows, "the original baron died. And now you're saying he always comes back after death."

"Came back. I said my father reappeared in the manor, strong and hale, every time after he died." Raymond Dasar elaborates, "But I guess third time's a charm, huh?"

"What actually happened?" Al demands with surprising force.

"Hoh. Why so concerned about my father Alice?" the baron sneers, bitterness all over his face.

"We fought the Farmer together. Side by side." Al sighs exasperatedly, "You were there too, when we charged at the Farmer for the final time."

"So?" Dasar folds his arms with a grimace on his face.

"Can't I care for a former comrade?" Al shakes her head forcefully, the veil moving like an undulating wave.

"Comrade? I thought you said employer back there." I remark distractedly, absorbed in the sight unfolding outside the manor.

The study offers a bird's eye view of the entire town, and what I'm seeing is nothing good. Southmarsh had exploded into a hive of activity ever since we drove Henrik and his harem off. House Guard and Deshawn City gendarme were rushing about, no doubt getting ready for the impending battle. A pair of banners have been raised outside the villa of the Real Baron, each emblazoned with a large crimson "I". The villa's lights are dimmed, but a bonfire rages at its rear garden sending a cloud of black smoke into the sky. As I chew on my lip, a single House Guard leaves the villa, marching toward the outskirts where the rest of the troops are mustering.

The situation is worse than I originally had assessed. There are far, far more House Guard than I originally expected. With the gendarme and siege guns Henrik has at his disposal, the Dasars were in for a hell of a fight. I'm not saying that the Dasars are doomed, but if I was a betting man, I wouldn't be putting any of my gold on them.

"Yes, Alice." Dasar's voice is heavy with sarcasm, "I thought my father was just your employer?"

"Can we not do this?" Al pleads, her voice softening, "Its in the past. And at the end of the day, both of us had made our choice, right?"

My ass starts to throb again, meaning that something is amiss. I might have had my misgivings about accepting the Mark of Hackal, but its been nothing but helpful so far. Whatever's got the Mark riled up can't be in the study, otherwise my butt would have started to hurt the moment I entered with Al. So by elimination, Hackal's pissed off at what I'm looking at right now. But what exactly is the source of the problem?

"What does the 'I' on those banners mean?" I ask Dasar.

"Izzak. Its the family name of those usurpers." Dasar grunts, happy that his increasingly fraught conversation with Al had been interrupted.

"What?" I frown, "Your sons told me that the so called new baron's name was Montfort."

"You must have heard wrong." Dasar dismisses, "Its always been Izzak."

No, I didn't hear wrong. It was Montfort, I'm sure of it. And this factoid merely confirms why the Mark was acting up. The history of Southmarsh changed again. First it was the Fat Man's marriage to Sylvia. In Ramon's memories the marriage happened, but now Sylvia is off somewhere leading her snake man cult. Now, the new baron and his family had been replaced entirely. The reality warping has increased in scope very substantially. And Dasar didn't notice the change at all. Is this what the Sage meant when he talked about perception filters?

"Raymond, what do you think our chances are?" Al says more calmly now that the conversation is on safer ground. I go back to scanning the town as another House Guard marches out of the villa.

"Honestly, not good." Dasar responds helplessly, "We're well supplied and fortified, but the siege guns will crack the tower eventually. The fighting will be bloody."

"You've plenty of men." Al objects, "Magic Knights as well."

"I know." Dasar rubs his forehead tiredly, "But most of my men aren't soldiers Alice, you know that. If it was just the Izzaks, the story would be different, but now there's the Gendarme and those three knights to contend with. We might still win, but -"

"You don't know whether it would be worth it." Al approaches Dasar and pats his shoulder tenderly, "I understand."

"47, 48, 49 ..." I murmur, keeping a beady eye on the villa. Why is it so dark anyway? Shouldn't Henrik be using it as his command post? It would make sense, given the number of House Guard taking part in the battle. Far more comfortable than working from a tent as well.

"My family is ruined either way." Dasar slumps in his chair disconsolate, "There's no way we are getting out of this crisis unscathed. You should leave while you can Alice."

"No." Al demurs, "I don't cut and run, you know that."

"So that means ..." Dasar murmurs, his emotions roiling under the surface.

"Think of it as loyalty to an old comrade." Al holds Dasar's hands tightly, but her voice is sad.

"Is that so." the baron gives a forlorn smile at this response.

"60." I mutter, realizing what's been bothering me.

Every sixty seconds, on the dot, a House Guard emerges from the villa and works his way to the mustering ground. Without fail. As Dasar and Al sink into indecipherable murmuring at each other, another House Guard walks out of the villa again. And another. And another.

And another.

Every sixty seconds exactly.

This shouldn't be possible. The villa isn't a barracks. There's no reason for it to be housing so many troops. As another House Guard sets off, I swing the Eyes of Ea to the rear ground of the villa where the bonfire continues to rage. A pair of people emerge from the villa, heaving a large cloth bag between them. The bag is unceremoniously tossed into the fire, adding to the blaze. I try zooming the Eyes of Ea on to the bag before it is consumed by the flames entirely, but the distance is too far to get any useful details. The duo turn back, returning to the villa, but then I notice a third figure trailing behind them, arms akimbo and fully clad in plate mail.

"Shit. Morton." I curse, recognizing the armored titan in an instant. He's already recovered from getting stabbed through the visor and well enough to be supervising whatever's going on at the villa.

The sound of gunfire rings out as a few of the Dasar bandits ride out on their mounts, taking potshots at the mustering ground. A probing attack more than anything else, the horsemen fail to do any damage and fall back before Henrik can deliver a response of his own. Its enough to distract Morton, who looks toward where the noise originated. One of the men he's supervising decides to make a break for it, dashing right for the villa's wall.

The man makes it to the base of the wall and begins to scale it like a monkey. Morton's too fast though, pouncing forward and grabbing the man by the ankle. The armored abomination than wrenches the man from the wall and easily drags the captive back to the villa. The other guy mutely watches from the side and obediently follows Morton back inside.

And all the while, more House Guard file out of the villa's front door, as regularly as clockwork.

"How did the first baron die?" I quiz, considering the possibilities.

"My father, he was torn apart by wild dogs just outside the town." Dasar says in a rush, taken by surprise by me suddenly speaking to him, "The animals pulled him off his horse, and that was that."

"How in the world do you have wild dogs outside your town?" I complain, "Are your guards sleeping or what?"

"I don't know!" Dasar protests, "This kind of thing never happened before!"

"Where's Larson's body buried, Raymond?" Al pipes up, "I would like to pay my respects, once all this is over."

"There's no body." Dasar deflates again, "The corpse disappeared once we brought it into the manor, like usual."

"But this time, he didn't show up again." I conclude.

"Yes. That's right." Dasar purses his lips, "Too many people saw my father get killed, there was no way for me to bury the story. Especially since he never reappeared after that day."

Right. So Larson's body disappeared, meaning that whatever mechanism he used to reincarnate still works. I've no way to be certain, but that seems like a safe guess to make. But something went wrong midway. The reincarnation never happened.

Now we have an endless stream of House Guard marching out of the Izzak villa, overseen by Morton. Multiple copies of the same person can exist at the same time, even acting against each other. I know this for a fact.

It doesn't take a genius to put two and two together.

Except this time, we're looking at numbers far greater than four.