Cardinal: "Things will be different this time?"

Randall: "Yes, those were the words I was to convey to you. It didn’t sound like a threat, but I believe it might have some deeper meaning."

Cardinal: "I see…"

After listening to the long and detailed explanation of Bishop Randall, the cardinal’s expression was hard to read. As a few moments of silent contemplation passed by, the nervously fidgeting bishop spoke up again.

Randall: "If you would allow me, I would like to organize a group to hunt down the—"

Cardinal: "That’s unnecessary."

As rejections went, this was about as quick and straightforward as they got; so much so that the bishop immediately dropped his respectful tone in shock.

Randall: "W-What do you mean? Unnecessary?!"

Cardinal: "Indeed. We don’t know who this man is or where he came from. It would be pointless to waste resources and manpower on pursuing him."

The cardinal’s voice was measured and dispassionate, in sharp contrast to the aging man looking like he was about to pass out from anger.

Randall: "But… but… He claimed to be a false prophet!!!" Randall bellowed, his old lungs quickly running out of air and forcing his voice to trail off into a painful wheeze. The cardinal stood silent for a few second to allow the man to catch his breath, though it didn’t seem to change his disposition.

Cardinal: "Yes he did, but that doesn’t change the fact that hunting him down would be a waste of time and effort."

Randall: "How can you say that!?" The balding bishop glared at him, his voice toned down into a boiling whisper. "He destroyed a dozen Type-Os and ridiculed us! He is a threat the Order cannot overlook!"

Cassandra: "Oh, shut up," Cassandra blurted out as she hopped off her throne where she has been absent-mindedly playing with her hair while the bishop was giving his report and she rolled her eyes. "His holy cardinalness said the word, stop shouting and go play with your scrolls or something."

Randall: "You insolent…!" The man raised his voice, only to almost topple over as his throat was about to give out again. Instead he glared at the girl, then glanced over at the cardinal, but after realizing he had no intention of interjecting this time the bishop face turned crimson. "I. had. enough!" He finally declared in a low hiss, punctuation each word with enough venom to kill a horse.

With his head boiling the bishop rushed to the door, all but tackling the girl in the process. He reached for the doorknob and turned back.

Randall: "If you don’t want to recognize the danger that man poses to the Order, then I have no choice but to talk to people who are actually listening! Mark my words! This is not over yet!"

Cassandra: "Yeah, yeah. Bye-bye!" The garnished girl gave an innocent wave to the old man, though the malicious glare hidden behind her smile made it clear the intention behind it was anything but.

After sending one last furious glance at her the bishop snorted, stormed out the room with thundering steps and slammed the door behind himself hard enough that its sound kept echoing for several seconds in the spacious room. For a few long moments the remaining two people in the premises just stared at the door wordlessly.

Cardinal: "My head hurts," The cardinal finally broke the silence with a groan as he painfully rubbed his temples, the events no doubt etching yet another line onto his face. The girl on the other hand just glared at the door, stood arms akimbo and shook her head.

Cassandra: "Yeah, stupid shouting-machine," She said with a mouthful of spite and turned around to return to her throne.

Cardinal: "Actually, you are causing me more headache than him."

The girl stooped halfway on his track and turned to the cardinal with her cheeks puffed up.

Cassandra: "What? Why?"

Cardinal: "You know all too well what I’m talking about." He answered while still massaging his temple. "Why did you goad him like that?"

Cassandra: "… I just don’t like his face."

The cardinal couldn’t help but hold his head in disbelief at the completely irresponsible answer.

Cardinal: "You are just…" He shook his head and spoke in a whisper. "I swear if there was anyone else who could do your job, I would personally throw you out of the cathedral this very moment."

Cassandra: "Oh come on, we both know you wouldn’t," The girl stated unrepentantly as she returned to her seat and began looking for something. "You are too nice to do that."

Cardinal: "Just you wait…"

Completely disregarding his words, the girl jumped off her throne and haughtily walked back to him with a smile.

Cassandra: "Are you done complaining? Good, I need your help anyway!"

To the cardinal’s sincerest shock the girl began tiptoeing in front of him with a blissful expression while holding onto a sketchbook like she didn’t even remember what they were talking about a second ago. On closer look, every page seemed to contain drawings of women in unusual, gaudy or just downright impractical costumes.

Cassandra: "Say, which clothes should I wear when I meet him for the first time?" She asked while shoving the illustrations into the man’s face.

Cardinal: "Him?" For a moment, he couldn’t even comprehend what she was talking about. "Are you… talking about Ahazkun?"

Cassandra: "Of course, who else! He is already back; it’s only a matter of time before we meet! I have to make sure I capture his heart on the spot, and you are the only guy I can ask!"

Finally realizing what it was all about, the man let out an annoyed groan and slumped his shoulders in resignation.

Cardinal: "Here you go again… Why are you so fixated on him?"

Cassandra: "What are you talking about? He is a living prophet on par with the First! And he is strong and wise and has a great sense of humor!"

After blinking a few times the cardinal raised his hand in his usual manner to silence the girl.

Cardinal: "Wait, where did that last one come from?"

Cassandra: "Weren’t you listening?!" Puffing her cheeks once again the girl lightly stomped on the ground in a tantrum. "He made that annoying Randall stand on a busted landmine for two days! It was hilarious!"

Cardinal: "… Your sense of humor is bizarre as usual."

Cassandra: "Shut up!"

Letting the impetuous comment go, more out of necessity than by the goodness of his heart, the cardinal sighed and decided to move on with the conversation.

Cardinal: "Still, he is formidable. To think he destroyed a full squad of Type-Os… I suppose it was to make sure it had enough impact so that his message would reach my ears, but still… A letter would have worked just as well."

Cassandra: "He is awesome, isn’t he?"

It was apparent he could not talk about any serious issues with the hyperactive girl, so he just shrugged.

Cardinal: "Yeah, sure…"

The cardinal’s gaze wandered into the distance as he replayed the story Randall told him in his head. And as he finished, the final message involuntarily burst from his lips.

Cardinal: "Things will be different, he says… Am I supposed to be relieved to hear that?"

It took a few moments for the words to register in the girl’s ears and even longer for her to tear her eyes away from the pages of her sketchbook, but at last she glanced over the cardinal with an annoyed squint.

Cassandra: "Yes, you should. That’s why he sent you the message."

Cardinal: "I guess so, but I can’t shake the feeling that choosing Randall as the messenger was a mistake."

The girl rolled her eyes, like she just hears something outrageously silly, and promptly snapped her book shut with an disapproving scowl.

Cassandra: "No it wasn’t. It was part of his plan."

Cardinal: "You say that for everything."

Cassandra: "Of course I do, because it’s all part of his plan! Everything!"

Cardinal: "Sure. If you say so, miss Golden Oracle…"

The girl’s eyes opened wide.

Cassandra: "Whoa! Did I just sense a hint of sarcasm in our straight-laced cardinal’s voice? It must be a miracle! Nov’Elsfaan be praised!"

Cardinal: "Just your imagination."

Saying so the man promptly turned around and reached for the doorknob.

Cassandra: "Whoa, wait!" The girl lunged at him and grabbed him by the sleeve. "Where do you think you’re going?"

Cardinal: "To do my job. Unlike you, I have other duties to attend to."

Cassandra: "But you didn’t help me choose my clothes!" The girl pouted.

Cardinal: "I’m not you maid."

Cassandra: "Come oooon!"

For a few strangely suspenseful moments the two of them looked each other in the eye while staring daggers, then the man groaned again with frustration as the first thing he could think of came to his mind.

Cardinal: "Sixth page. It was “Gothic Lolita”, I think."

Cassandra bobbed her head in response. Apparently she wasn’t expecting such a straightforward answer. Seeing her reaction the man rolled his eyes again and took the opportunity to pull his sleeve out the girl’s grasp.

Cardinal: "Anything else?"

Cassandra: "W-Wow! No, that was already more than what I was expecting! I completely misjudged you, your holy cardinalness!"

Cardinal: "… I told you to stop calling me that. If you want to address me, address me properly."

Cassandra glared back at the man and forcefully twisted her lips into a cheerful smile, though even a blind man could tell she was anything but.

Cassandra: "Okay, his absolutely holy cardinalness, lord of the stick-in-the-mud, valiant pooper of all parties!"

After a moment of shock the man quickly collected himself and decided not to grant her the joy of reaction…

Cassandra: "What?"

However, the silence was apparently completely lost on her. He gave her one last harsh stare, then dropped his shoulders in defeat.

Cardinal: "You know what? I had enough of this. Just call me by my name; it would be a lot simpler for both of us."

Once again the oracle girl cocked her head to the side in surprise.

Cassandra: "Really? I thought you don’t like when people call you by name."

Cardinal: "Anything is better than the idiotic titles you keep making up…"

Cassandra: "But they sound so nice and regal!"

The cardinal narrowed his eyes and gave a firm nod to the girl in goodbye, though his frown was anything but courteous.

Cardinal: "… Goodbye Cassandra."

Cassandra: "Goodbye Saberger." She returned the courtesy with a monotone voice.

After exchanging goodbyes like that he closed the door and started walking down the hallway whence he came from. Once again, he passed by the old frescos and couldn’t help but sigh in frustration.

The last words of Randall still weighted heavily on his mind. He said he would talk to people who listened, and the cardinal actually had a good idea about who those people might be…

~~~

Adhi: "Wooooow!!!"

Harran: "Please stop being impressed by everything or we will never get to the abbot’s office!" The officer bellowed, turning quite a number of heads in the spacious courtyard.

Kiseki: "But it’s so strange!" The woman in white answered with her finger on her lips, making a contemplative gesture as she eyed the metal barrel in front of her. "What is this? I’ve never seen anything like that where we came from!"

Harran: "It’s just a trashcan!" The colonel bellowed again, this time turning the previous faces away as they suddenly seemed very busy moving along.

Adhi: "Yes, but a really impressive one!" The man told him with a childish smile. "Wow, it even has a pedal to open up the top!"

Harran: "I swear they are doing this on purpose…" He muttered in exasperation while clawing at his own forehead.

Kiseki: "Did you say something?"

Harran: "…" The officer took a moment to collect himself and swiftly raised his eyes upon the two again, this time wearing his best poker-face. "No, nothing. If you are done with that, please follow me…"

At first his request seemed downright amiable, but a quick look at the man’s twitching eyebrows and bulging veins was enough to tell that he was on the brink of blowing up. Surprisingly enough it seemed to finally get the message across and the couple nodded to him.

Adhi: "Okay."

Like that they were finally on their way… once again. Normally it took only a few minutes to get to the main building from the chapel, but the two newcomers took their sweet time adoring the most mundane of objects they could find. Needless to say, it considerably stretched out both the travel time and their guide’s nerves.

Finally, after fighting many small battles against the urge to leave them behind, the knight realized they finally reached the doorstep of their destination. The building in front of them looked like a gray concrete box with only a few small, square windows about two storeys high. It sat at the back of the circular compound on the summit of the mountainside, diametrically opposed by the chapel at the road access, and with that it occupied the most fortified position in the abbey.

Speaking of the abbey, if the mercenary couple would have known much about the standard layout of these military encampments, they would have probably been quite surprised by the spacious training yard encircled by the buildings. It was almost three hundred meters in diameter, so improbably large that the entirely of the provincia’s military personnel could have been lined up upon it and they would still have quite a bit of leg-room.

It was also quite strange how the abbot’s office building seemed to be almost built into the rock wall behind it, but the duo apparently didn’t pay much attention to it. ‘Good riddance’, murmured the knight under his breath, relieved that he wouldn’t have to listen them jabbering about this particular feature of the abbey. He mechanically raised his arm and lightly waved to the guards wearing the same ornamented armor as him in front of the office building.

The two at the door slowly observed the incoming group with the healthy dose of wariness their job required; their hands already on the safeties of their bulky assault rifles. To everyone’s surprise it didn’t seem to faze the mercenary couple.

Normally firearms were a rare sight these days, as the Order had an incredibly strict and severe anti-gun policy, yet the two didn’t seem to pay any attention to the weapons of the guards. Colonel Harran closed his eyes for a moment, but the eyes looking up at the guards were not one iota less exhausted than before he closed them.

Guard: "Halt." The gruff man in front of the thick metal door raised his hand in a practiced gesture and nodded at the knight. "Sir?"

Harran: "At ease lieutenant. These are the mercenaries the abbot was talking about—" The man paused and then added, "Two weeks ago, that is."

The guard took a glance at the two standing behind the officer and leaned closer to him, taking his voice down to a whisper.

Guard: "Are you sure?"

The knight looked back as well and then let out an exhausted sigh.

Harran: "Unfortunately, yes…"

At first the man didn’t know what to make of the officer’s words, but after a moment of hesitation he finally gestured to his mate to open the heavy iron door. Its well-oiled hinges turned without a sound.

Guard: "The abbot said you should see him whenever you arrived. It’s better later than never, I suppose…" The man mused as he returned to his post by the door. "Go ahead, it’s the big brown door at the end of the hall."

Adhi: "Thanks."

Kiseki: "Thank you!"

As they entered and the door closed behind them, the Harran’s face suddenly lit up as if a huge load was lifted from his shoulders.

Harran: "Damn it all…"

He abruptly turned around and stomped the ground something fierce before he groaned and broke into a forceful stride.

Guard: "Errr… Sir?" The guard spoke up awkwardly, apparently expecting the man to wait for the two outside. "Where are you going?"

Harran: "The training ground." The colonel barked back. "I just have to hit something…"

And saying so, he briskly left the place behind.

~~~

The difference between the rest of the abbey and the chamber of the abbot was astounding. The walls were covered with the extravagant portraits of the previous abbots while the space between them was draped with fine, crimson velvet. It generally looked more like the office of an especially posh nouveau rich government official who had nothing better to do with his fortune… so in retrospect, it actually made sense. Sort of. In some regards, at least.

The large shelves on the sides of the room were filled with countless books, scrolls and parchments while the back of the office was covered with large filing cabinets. Most surprising of all however was the computer standing on the large desk in the middle of the spacious office, a piece of pre-Devastation era technology that could hardly be found anywhere anymore. Even more astonishingly the machine seemed to be in working condition, professed by the abbot’s hands furiously typing on its worn keyboard.

The owner of the room himself stood out of the environment as well, which was not a small feat by any measures. It was decidedly hard to guess his age with the most telling wrinkles of his face being hidden under a neatly trimmed sand-brown beard. At least one could tell that his similarly colored military-cut hair and bushy eyebrows held no stray white hairs yet, so he was probably still at the peak of his life.

As for his garments, he was dressed in pre-Devastation jeans and wore an open azure robe over his worn black shirt; its edges trimmed what probably used to be golden thread at one point. At first glance it seemed as if it was only thrown on him to stand out even more from in surroundings, but a closer look quickly revealed a number of pockets on the cloth, so it must have had at least some practical use to the man.

Abbot: "Sit down."

He didn’t bother with greetings or even glanced up from his computer, yet his cold voice carried a sense of authority that made even the normally oblivious duo follow it without a word. After a few more seconds he finally raised his gaze and leveled his dark green eyes upon them with a look that could best be described as a ‘bone-chilling glare’. As the pair soon discovered, that was his neutral expression.

Abbot: "You are the mercenaries, I presume?" If his eyes were scary before, after this point they suddenly gained a severity that had no business on a human face. "You are late."

The abbot’s voice was dry and emotionless, like as if a computer was trying its best to imitate human speech without any understanding of tones other than cold antipathy. For a second or two the mercenary duo seemed awfully awkward, as if the man’s piercing stare has drained all the enthusiasm from them.

Adhi: "Yes, the Calamity Cou—" The sharply dressed man began but he was immediately interrupted by the abbot clearing his throat.

Abbot: "Spare me the infantilism. I know all about you and your nicknames."

After cutting him off mid-sentence the abbot quietly stood up, his frowning gaze never leaving the two for a moment.

Abbot: "I am abbot Artorius Yorhel, CO of the abbey in provincia Africa Inferior of the Ordo Magnus Nov-Elsfaan Caelestis, Sextus Aquilonis." The abbot narrowed his eyes while looking at the mercenaries and the sight of their confusion managed to tug the corners of his lips into a biting, sardonic smirk. "But you are well aware of all this, aren’t you?"

Adhi: "… Y-Yes. Naturally."

The man nodded as convincingly as he could, which wasn’t much, considering he started off his words with an audible gulp.

Abbot: "I’m glad to hear it."

Apparently satisfied for the moment, abbot Yorhel turned around and walked over to the filing cabinet in the corner of the office. His guests anxiously followed him with their eyes without as much as a squeak.

With that he started rummaging through the files in the drawers, seemingly completely disregarding the two. This lasted about two minutes, which is a long time to spend in awkward silence. For the duo it pretty much felt like a century. At last Adhi lightly cleared his throat and spoke up in a conversational tone.

Adhi: "You have a nice office here, sir."

Kiseki nodded to her partner’s words.

Kiseki: "Yes, very nice. It’s… errr…"

Adhi: "The drapes."

Kiseki: "Yes, the drapes are very stylish!"

Adhi: "And red!"

Kiseki: "Especially red!"

Yorhel: "It is only a matter of pure necessity."

The moment the man spoke the couple shuddered and all the budding enthusiasm flew out of them like scared pigeons. In the meantime abbot Yorhel returned to the desk in the middle with a bundle of several neatly arranged brown folders.

Yorhel: "People of all standings and ways of life respect and fear wealth. It is a rule of life as old as human civilization." He placed the files onto the desk and took seat, never taking his eyes off his guests. "Demonstrating one’s wealth is the same as demonstrating one’s power. The weak will cover, the strong will show interest and the resentful will be on guard. It makes people predictable either way."

The abbot’s voice seemed a bit less hostile than before, but his piercing eyes made sure the two didn’t feel themselves welcome even then. He carefully linked his fingers into a small dome in front of him and continued.

Yorhel: "I have to admit, sometimes I can’t help myself but feel amused by how primitive we humans are. Being swayed by such base things as one’s material possessions..." The man’s lips were once again twisted into a mocking smile under his thick beard as he looked upon the two in front of him. "But of course, I don’t need to tell about this to you either, do I? Mercenaries such as yourselves should be well aware how wealth simply cannot compensate for some, so to say, even more basic needs."

While saying so, abbot Yorhel slid two of the folders towards the pair and leaned back in his chair.

Kiseki: "Errr…"

Yorhel: "Go ahead, take a look at them."

At last Adhi carefully reached for the dossiers and opened the first one. To his surprise it was his own face that looked back at him from the first page. He glanced up at the abbot in mild confusion, but by then the man’s face returned to the perpetual scowl he wore when they arrived.

As he glanced over, he could see that the other file in Kiseki’s hands was the same. They were collections of reports focusing on the two of them and just a quick glance at them was enough to tell that they were improbably detailed. In fact, some of the particulars sent chills down the pair’s spines.

Adhi: "You have… good intelligence."

Yorhel: "Of course."

If one asked him at that moment, Adhi would have probably declared that there was no way one could say those words in a more matter-of-fact fashion than the abbot just managed. He couldn’t help but gulp nervously as his eyes quickly scanned the room.

No matter how he tried, he simply couldn’t come up with a plausible explanation for how the Order could get such detailed intelligence on them. In fact, he had no idea how anyone could find these things out, as some of them were so personal that they would have sworn that only the two of them knew about them. Either way, with their lives laid bare in front of them the two couldn’t help but feel the already swirling nauseating unease gagging at their throats.

Yorhel: "Don’t look so surprised. It is only logical that I would need that much information before I would ask for a meeting like this." Seeing the darting eyes of the pair the previous sardonic smile of the abbot slowly stretched into a devilish grin as he raised one hand. "I would advise you against moving."

Adhi: "Wha—?"

Yorhel: "I know what you are thinking." Abbot Yorhel’s glare was chilly as a glacier and felt about just as insurmountable. "You suddenly realized you are way in over your head and are thinking about ways to get away as fast as you can. I advise against such actions. "

The previously squirming woman timidly raised her voice, though it barely counted for more than a slightly louder whisper.

Kiseki: "You cannot really blame us for not feeling welcome after all that…"

Yorhel: "Oh?" The man’s brow slightly rose, but even that felt more mocking than an actual expression of surprise. "It couldn’t be helped. We need to establish the lines, you see, otherwise there could some nasty complications later. Needless to say, neither of us would really want something like that to happen, especially not you. It would be also quite counter-productive to leave without even hearing the details of the job I am about to offer to you."

Finally steeling his nerves, the man in the suit cleared his throat and glared back at the abbot.

Adhi: "So you are still trying to hire us?"

Yorhel: "Well, of course. It is why you are here, is it not?" The two awkwardly nodded. In the meantime the abbot grabbed hold of the remaining dossiers on the desk and smiled at them again. It was the same derisive smile as before, except this time it had a pitying edge to it. "As I said, we had to establish the power hierarchy before I could discuss these delicate matters with you. It is only natural to ascertain such things with hired dogs such as yourselves; otherwise you might get some silly ideas, like biting the feeding hand."

The two started squirming once again, though this time they were quite sure it was because of the abbot’s expression.

Adhi: "So? What is it?"

The suited man’s voice was uncharacteristically dry and he was visibly forcing himself not to let the abbot’s words get to him. Contrary to expectations, the effort seemingly pleased him.

Yorhel: "So you can act businesslike after all? Very good." With these words he finally put the folders back onto the desk and slid them over to the pair. "These would be your targets."

Kiseki: "Targets?" The woman cautiously reached for the documents and quickly glanced over the topmost one. "You are aware that tracking and assassination is not our expertise, right?"

Adhi: "Yeah, we are more experienced in the ‘destroy things and wreak havoc’ kind of work."

Yorhel: "Naturally. That is why your mission has nothing to do with assassination but wreaking havoc."

Adhi: "Oh…" The man scoped up another dossier and glanced over the first few pages. "Excuse me, but this one says ‘Soketsu’…"

Yorhel: "Yes, he is one of your targets."

Kiseki: "You mean, the Soketsu?"

Yorhel: "Is there any other?"

Kiseki: "I don’t know."

Adhi: "Me neither."

The abbot slightly shook his head and began his explanation.

Yorhel: "The current Soketsu went missing roughly a week ago during a highly classified mission issued by cardinal Saberger of provincia Africa Superior. I have a good guess where he disappeared to, and if I am right, I need you to find him."

Adhi: "So… It’s a recovery mission?"

Yorhel: "Not exactly." The abbot stood up again and circled over to the side of his desk. "Your primary objective will be just locating him. Your secondary objective is the recovery of him or his Alternate but only if a chance presents itself."

The pair twitched in unison when they heard the word, cold sweat visibly trickling down their foreheads.

Adhi: "Wait, he has an alternate?"

Yorhel: "Indeed. Her picture is on the fourteenth page of the Soketsu’s dossier."

Kiseki: "She is pretty young. And cute."

Adhi: "Yeah." The man glanced up at her partner and hastily added. "I mean, young."

The abbot pointed at the rest of the folders as he continued.

Yorhel: "If my theory is correct, you are also likely to encounter one or more of the following three men specified in the documents. In such a scenario you are authorized to use lethal force and engage them in any way you find satisfactory. I would personally advise against any such engagement, but in case it would be unavoidable, causing collateral damage could serve further purposes."

Kiseki: "You mean…?"

Yorhel: "Wreaking havoc."

Kiseki: "Ah, gotcha."

Adhi: "Just a question." The man meekly raised his hand.

Yorhel: "Ask."

Adhi: "I see we have a lot of info on these guys, but where exactly are we supposed to find them again?"

Kiseki: "Yeah, that’s pretty important."

Adhi: "Right?"

The abbot let out a small sigh and pointed at the map hanging on the wall right to his desk.

Yorhel: "Are you familiar with the Black Desert, by any chance?"

Kiseki: "Well, it’s a… desert?"

Yorhel: "I take that as a no." The man walked over and stabbed the map with his finger. "If my theory is correct, they should be somewhere north of Viginti."

Adhi: "Oh, we’ve been there."

Completely disregarding the man’s words, the abbot continued at his own pace.

Yorhel: "We know that this was the last known location of the Soketsu, before he left northwards towards his destination. Since the central bureau of Cathedral Africa Superior still denies his disappearance and thus refuses to share any information with us, I decided to take matters into my own hands." He turned back to the mercenaries and began walking back, only to notice that the woman had raised her hand as if she was in a classroom. "Yes, any questions?"

Kiseki: "Correct me if I’m wrong, but are you saying that we are supposed to go into the desert to find this missing man who might not even be missing?"

The abbot sent him a sharp glance, though in his case it was hard to tell whether it was a bad sign or just his typical demeanor and let out a barely audible groan.

Yorhel: "I assure you, he is indeed missing."

Kiseki: "And how are we supposed to find him?"

Yorhel: "You will have a guide and a small retinue to help you with that. They will help you reach the facility where he is kept, at which point your actual work will begin."

Adhi: "Wait, there is a hidden facility? No one said anything about hidden facilities!"

Kiseki: "Wait, if we know it’s there it’s not exactly hidden, is it?"

Adhi: "Good point."

Kiseki: "So, is it just a normal facil—"

Yorhel: "Silence." The duo immediately tensed up and fell silent like their throats were cut even though the abbot only raised his voice by the smallest of degrees. "At this point the base of operations in question is technically only theoretical. It’s underground and impossible to locate by traditional means because of the hostile environment. Discovering its location and size is also part of your task."

There was a momentary silence, then the woman once again raised her hand.

Kiseki: "So, if I get what you are saying, you want to hire us to find some kind of underground bunker in a desert that may or may not even be there and then find the Soketsu in it while dealing with the people who captured him, but we are not exactly supposed to recover him but instead just map things or something?"

Yorhel: "On very basic terms, yes. You are also to engage any hostiles and cause collateral damage, but that is the gist of it."

The mercenary couple glanced at each other and stood up in unison with fake smiles plastered on their faces.

Adhi: "We are sorry, but this kind of job really sounds like more trouble than it’s worth."

Yorhel: "Oh?"

The abbot once again chose to speak in a voice apparently designed to make even that single word sound like he was leering at them.

Adhi: "That would be it, I think. Thank you for your time, I suppose we are going to return to sight-seeing or—"

Yorhel: "Would you care to tell me how do you plan on leaving?"

The question was deceptively simple yet it instantly sent cold sweat tricking down the suited man’s neck.

Adhi: "Through the door?"

Yorhel: "Very funny." Those were the words, but the voice carrying them said exactly the opposite. "I advise you to sit back. After all, we haven’t discussed the matter of your payment yet, have we?"

Kiseki: "We just said we are not—"

Yorhel: "Sit!"

The abbot’s voice suddenly filled the room like an explosion, booming with an echo that did not tolerate any opposition. Just like that, the duo reflexively fell back into their seats like scared children, although once already sitting they both seemed confused about how they ended up like that.

Yorhel: "It appears you are still not completely aware of your situation, so let me enlighten you: you are not leaving this office until you hear me out and accept this job. That, or in body bags."

Adhi: "Are you… threatening us?"

The abbot’s face lit up in response, almost managing to even erase his frown for a second or two.

Yorhel: "As a matter of fact, yes."

Adhi: "I see, but… what exactly keeps us from just breaking out of here and going home?"

Yorhel: "Oh?" The abbot cocked his head to the side with a decidedly amused look in his eyes. "Very well, please explain how you would do that."

Taken aback by the sudden request, the two awkwardly glanced at each other.

Kiseki: "Well, I for one was thinking along the lines of grabbing the files, then break down the door, use it as a shield against the snipers and then bolt once we are out of range."

Adhi: "Or we could use the abbot as a human shield."

Kiseki: "Oh, good idea! That would work as well."

Yorhel: "Huh."

The disappointed grunt of the man suddenly froze his guests in mid-discussion. He slowly shook his head with disapproval as he lightly tapped the surface of his desk with his fingertips.

Yorhel: "Decidedly unimaginative. Also, you still appear to be unaware, so let me inform you that the moment you would try and raise a hand against me, you would be cut down."

Once again, the mercenary couple shuddered in face of the abbot’s glare, but even more so because of the sudden revelation. ‘You would be cut down’, he said.

Adhi’s eyes skimmed over the interior of the room in a nervous rush one more time and he could feel the beads of cold sweat trickling down on his forehead. As his eyes finally reached Kiseki, he found her looking at him with the exact same expression he felt he must have had at the moment. Something was wrong and they both realized it at the exact same time.

There was something in the room. In fact it was there from the very beginning. All this time they thought that their discomfort originated from the distant antagonism of the abbot, but it finally dawned on them that there was something else behind those feelings. Whatever it was, the thing in the office was obvious eyeing them. They could not actually perceive it but their honed instincts still picked up on its presence and now they were practically screaming at them in panic.

Yorhel: "So you finally noticed his presence? I hoped it wouldn’t take so long, I think it would have made things run smoother." The abbot’s dry voice seemed to fall on deaf ears as the duo kept nervously glancing around. After a moment of observation the man cleared his throat and once again began tapping on his desk with his fingers. "Stop being apprehensive of him. He won’t touch you as long as you don’t do anything rash."

Instead of verbal answers the abbot received a pair of glares. Normally he might have considered such conduct rude but this time he preferred this approach. For starters, it was way faster and much more efficient.

Yorhel: "With that I think it is clearly established who has the upper hand, am I right?" He looked the mercenaries in the eye one at the time and waited until both of them averted their eyes. "Good. If my memory serves me right, we were just about to discuss the finer details of your assignment and your payment."

The downcast eyes filled the abbot with a sadistic glee as he put his hand onto the desk again and began his rhythmic tapping one more time, purposefully making the two wait before he continued.

He had experience with people like them. One had to establish superiority if he wanted a smooth operation, now all that remained was giving them the incentive to work with him on their own volition. Put the stick aside and start dangling the carrot, as they say.

Yorhel: "As you are well aware, I have extensive intelligence regarding the two of you. I know that you two have little use of money or power, but I know what you really want."

It appeared even the prospect of the carrot was more than enough to pick the interest of the crestfallen pair as they raised their eyes in unison.

Kiseki: "What… are you talking about…?"

The abbot smiled. It was too easy. She might have tried to put up a front, but the woman had already took the bait. For a moment he almost felt bad for being so blatantly manipulative, but then he remembered how he loved doing it and his lips curved even further, showing some actual teeth for the first time. It was an unnerving sight to say the least.

Yorhel: "You know very well what I am talking about. Do I really have to spell it out to you?"

The mercenaries glared at him, but there was something else in their eyes beyond the animosity expected. It was hope, the greatest loop any halfway talented manipulator could sink their hooks into, and he was anything but halfway talented.

It was probably only a whim, but he suddenly walked over to the back of the office and pulled aside one of the picture frames. His guest silently followed him with their eyes but still couldn’t see the moment he glanced into the retinal scanner mounted on the wall. Not that they really looked for it, with their minds much too preoccupied with the man’s previous words.

Adhi: "Hey…" Adhi spoke up with a hoarse throat, obviously trying to keep his voice as level as possible. "Can you really do that?"

Kiseki: "Can you?"

Abbot Yorhel glanced back at his guests as one of the large filing cabinets slowly sunk into the wall behind him with a low rumbling noise. He faced the two with a bright white light engulfing his body from behind and beckoned the two with his hand.

Yorhel: "Follow me, and I will show you just what I am capable of."