Vreil's group had just arrived at Waterslide when they heard a commotion near the center of the camp.

Even tired, Sting, Vreil, and Heartilia were excited at the sight of the army, and wanted to go see what the commotion was all about, to the amusement of Sir Arnold. Having participated in more battles than he would have liked, watching young people get all excited was amusing and sad at the same time.

So they split.

Jeffrey and Linda, exhausted as they were, retired to their accommodations to get some good sleep.

Sir Arnold left for Sayfire's tent to report about their mission, unaware that Sayfire herself was just leaving her tent and heading for the disturbance.

That left the three young humans, Vreil, Heartilia, and Sting, who decided to go and take a look at whatever was happening.

On their way there, they found a wagon led by a friendly soldier named Grimlock, heading to the warehouses. The warehouses were on the opposite side of the camp, meaning the wagon would go through the center of the camp, and so the three young friends hitched a ride. Vreil and Sting, acting all gentleman-like, let Heartilia sit at the front to enjoy the view while they stayed at the back of the wagon. They were in the middle of their own camp, after all, so what could go wrong?

And that was how they approached the procession of cultists, where Sayfire was having a stand-off with the high priest. Heartilia shivered when she saw the man in the middle of all the commotion stare at her. But it would only get worse.

"You," he ordered in an authoritative voice while pointing at her. "Come here immediately!"

Heartilia froze, the driver froze, the crowds froze. Only the two horses pulling the wagon seemed to remain blissfully unaware of the situation as they kept trotting on, at least until the driver pulled their reins, halting them. At that point, the horses proceeded to happily munch on some wild grass that happened to be right next to them.

Heartilia wavered. She definitely didn't want to go anywhere near that creepy old man or his black-robed friends, but he looked dangerous enough. Could she refuse?

She looked at Sayfire, hoping to get some help, but the other woman just looked away, avoiding eye contact.

Gritting her teeth, Heartilia got off the stopped wagon and approached the high priest's platform, stopping a few steps away from it. She had, at some point, caught sight of the emblem carved behind the high priest, and she had realized what was going on.

Being surrounded by black-robed lunatics didn't stop her from being terrified, so she didn't dare approach any closer. Vreil and Sting had followed her, but stopped at the inner edge of the crowd of soldiers that had formed around the cultists. They discreetly asked those around them what was going on and their eyes narrowed when they were told of the situation.

"I told you to come here, girl. Not over there," the high priest said, seemingly irritated. That was only to tease Heartilia, though. In truth, he quite enjoyed the fear he could see in her body language.

Heartilia hesitated, beads of sweat forming on her face. She had heard the rumors about the Madred cultists and didn't want to find out how much of them was true. She looked at Sayfire again, hoping for salvation, but Sayfire only gritted her teeth and nodded.

The high priest was overjoyed. The fact that this female commander didn't stop the red-haired girl meant his guess had been correct. He wouldn't be antagonized for having his fun with this random girl! Not that there weren't other women in the camp for him to play with, but they were rougher and sturdier. Not his type. He preferred pure, weak, and innocent women, ones who would cry and resist but would be weak enough to be completely overwhelmed by him.

Most of the soldiers were gritting their teeth. They sympathized with the girl, but they couldn't do anything about it and they hated it. How they wished they could just punch this disgusting animal of a man straight in the face!

The truth was the high priest wasn't really spot on in his assumptions. Heartilia wasn't just a random girl, she was the daughter of Jeffrey, a former noble now in Sayfire's command. While the soldiers that Jeffrey himself had brought to the army weren't that numerous, he still remained a former noble.

If Sayfire allowed his daughter to be abused, wouldn't the other nobles naturally assume they would be next? Wouldn't they all abandon her? Sayfire was only allowing Heartilia to approach the high priest because she didn't want to go against him unless there was no other way. She wouldn't stop him as long as he remained reasonable and civilized, something she fervently wished for. Sadly, the man would disappoint her.

"If you don't want to come closer, that's fine," he said with a malicious grin on his face. "But you'll have to strip right where you are. Do that, and I'll let you go."

Another round of silence ensued. Some soldiers, especially those who knew of Heartilia's identity, put their hands on the hilts of their weapons and displayed open hostility, their eyes blazing with righteous fury. What kind of perverted, sick man would do something like that? He absolutely deserved to die!

Some others gulped in fear, with a small amount of them rejoicing at the prospect of the young girl stripping her clothes in front of them. These last ones were undoubtedly untrustworthy, and those of them who were letting their emotions show were marked by Sayfire's generals, who had been observing the soldiers' reactions. They would receive the most dangerous positions in the upcoming war.

"The high priest's jokes are most amusing, but can we continue our conversation?" Sayfire desperately tried to diffuse the situation. "Heartilia, where's Ashter?" she asked hopefully. The wise old man would know what to do. Heartilia's sad eyes though made her suspect the wizard's death. That's impossible... she thought.

Unfortunately for her, she was still inexperienced, and the high priest caught onto her desperation. Now he felt even more sure that his little game would be allowed.

"Sure we can, as soon as this little girl takes off all of her clothes," he replied, not even looking at Sayfire. "What's taking you so long?" he directly asked Heartilia.

Heartilia herself was frozen in fear, her heart pounding harder than it ever had before. Strip? she barely managed to think, but her brain just wasn't working. She just stayed there, completely unmoving, trying to get out of her panic-induced state.

As scared of going against him as she was, Sayfire was still a woman. She was furious! How could she allow the young girl to be humiliated like that? Not to mention the ramifications that would have on her army.

"I think your joke is going a bit too far, high priest," she managed to say, anger lacing her voice. "How about we just continue what we were saying?"

However, she still wasn't willing to lose all decorum with the cult. She couldn't afford it. But the truth was that she also couldn't lose any more face in front of her soldiers. If the man continued to insist, she had no idea what she should do. Her generals were already gritting their teeth, thinking she was too submissive in front of her soldiers, and she knew it.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on one's opinion, someone else made the decision for her.

"What the fuck did you just say?" a voice boomed from the crowd.

Vreil had been informed of the situation by some soldiers, but they didn't really tell him much more than he could infer on his own. He knew about Madred's cult and therefore understood that Sayfire couldn't afford to enrage them. That's why he held his tongue when Heartilia was summoned by the priest.

When Heartilia had first been asked to strip, Vreil's fury had already gone through the roof, but he still managed to hold on. It was extremely difficult though. It was only a few hours ago that he had sworn to himself that he wouldn't ever let those close to him get hurt again, but he knew what was at stake. So he managed to hold on. He still hoped that Heartilia would somehow be spared.

But when the high priest insisted, Vreil lost his temper. Heartilia was his friend, someone he held dear and, for some reason, the thought of her being abused in front of so many men filled him with not only rage, but also with a strange, bitter feeling in his gut. Losing his self-control, Vreil couldn't stop himself from shouting.

"What the fuck did you just say?"

His voice boomed loudly, having been infused with magic by habit. The soldiers next to him, Sting excluded, jumped backward in surprise.

Almost immediately, the cultists drew their weapons from somewhere inside their robes. They were long, red, curved swords, seemingly designed to slice and maim.

The soldiers responded by drawing their own weapons and the situation grew tense in an instant as bloodshed was about to unfold. Unfortunately for the revolutionaries, Sayfire was still in the middle of the cultists, and swords were immediately pointed at her by the surrounding cultists.

Vreil himself had drawn his own sword, as had Sting, and their blades glistened in the sunlight.

Nobody moved. The soldiers couldn't attack as their commander was practically held hostage, while the cultists couldn't do anything as they were surrounded and vastly outnumbered.

"Stand down," both Sayfire and the high priest shouted at the same time. The soldiers and cultists alike obeyed, lowering their weapons but not sheathing them.

The situation got even tenser as Vreil, sheathing his sword, approached the cultists. "Vreil, go back!" Sayfire ordered as sternly as she could but was thoroughly ignored. The cultists Vreil was walking towards raised their weapons.

"Let him pass," their high priest commanded and his followers did as they were told. Both Sayfire and the high priest assumed he was coming to pick up Heartilia and leave.

With heavy steps and his eyes blazing, Vreil approached Heartilia.

Despite his bravado earlier, the high priest was actually scared, as he knew there was a limit to how much he could provoke this army before he was killed. Originally, he had been planning to kill the audacious young man, but then he’d noticed his differently colored eyes, marking him as an Arknas.

He wasn't sure he could get away with killing him, not to mention he wouldn't go down without a fight. Therefore, the high priest would be more than happy to see him walk away, even if it meant losing his new 'toy'. His life was more important, after all, and he was beginning to realize that he had perhaps approached the delicate limit of their commander's patience more than he thought. She had, after all, been held at sword point by his followers.

Given all these, it's easy to imagine both Sayfire's and the old man's surprise when Vreil completely ignored Heartilia and decisively stepped on the slightly raised platform.

"What are you doing?" the high priest asked as he was starting to get worried. Vreil's eyes were locked on him, and he was staring like he would at a dead man.

"Don't come closer, or your commander will die!" the high priest was starting to panic now. He wasn't much of a fighter himself, except when he attacked bound and unarmed prisoners, or women and children. He was very good at that. An armed and trained Arknas however, was a vastly different thing.

A burst of sound came from behind Vreil as Sayfire's generals chose this time, when everybody was staring at Vreil, to liberate their commander. There were only some tens of cultists so it was easy for them, who were all strong fighters at least on Jiovanni's level, to break into their encirclement in seconds and get to Sayfire's side. They then formed a circle around her, their weapons pointing outwards. They were confident even arrows wouldn't get past them now.

Vreil didn't spare them more than a glance as he continued to approach the high priest with resolved strides and came to a halt right in front of the man.

"Don't come any closer!" the man more screeched than shouted.

Vreil stared at the old man in front of him. He didn't even know his name, but nor did he care. It was clear to him this was a person with no moral values, with zero care for his fellow people, and most of all, an enemy. He had clearly come here to cause trouble. He had openly insulted Sayfire and humiliated Heartilia, who was still frozen in place, ignored by the cultists.

So what if they would fight the cult afterward? Vreil wasn't too knowledgeable about their strength but he believed that the revolution could take them, even if they allied with that corrupt king. Not that he cared about that. Even if his army couldn't handle them, he would just have to get strong enough himself to support the army against anything. He had seen Ashter's strength, and knew that a man like that was a one-man army. A level of power he was confident he could achieve.

If Vreil didn't intervene, who knew what that bastard would do to Heartilia? He didn't know whether Sayfire would protect her or not, but he didn't care. Because he would protect her. He was done depending on others.

Even if it was difficult, he would bear the burden. Because he was strong. He was an Arknas. He was his own man. Was he taking the lives of others into his hands? So what? Wasn't that what leaders were supposed to do anyway? No matter what became of his actions this day, he would deal with it. Vreil embraced that responsibility, because it was exactly that responsibility which gave him the freedom to do whatever he wanted.

And right now, he knew exactly what he wanted to do.

"No... Get away!" the high priest shouted, but his voice fell on deaf ears.

"Save me," he shouted again as he stumbled half a step backward, but it wasn't enough. His cultists tried to move but were too far away to make it in time.

"Stop, Vreil!" Sayfire too shouted, but she too failed to even make him hesitate.

"Soldier! Stop! That's an order!" one of the generals, a sturdily-built old man, tried to intervene, but he too was thoroughly ignored. Sting was looking at Vreil with respect shimmering in his eyes. He quietly drew his sword.

Everybody was staring slack-jawed at Vreil. Nobody was talking or drawing their weapons. He couldn't really be thinking of doing what he seemed like he was doing. Attacking a high priest of the Cult of Death was unthinkable! The bloody animal deserved it of course, but nobody would do that! It was suicide!

Deep inside, everybody was hoping he would actually do it and yet nobody dared to believe it.

"But... I'm a high priest..." the old man managed to utter.

"So what if you're a high priest?" Vreil took a step, placing his left foot right in front of the priest.

"So what if everybody's supposed to be scared of you?" he pulled his right hand back, clenching his fist.

Hundreds of men and women stared silently and unblinkingly, not daring to believe. Vreil's fist landed squarely on the trembling high priest's face, catapulting him backward with so much force he smashed into one of his followers.

"I DON'T GIVE A SINGLE FUCK!"

The war had begun.