The flaming bird zipped ahead, cutting corners and disappearing in a blink of an eye. It left a trail of fire in its wake. He was relieved that the sewage had hardened like a thin sheet of discolored ice and the stench became a little more bearable. When asked about it, the Yonchin grinned and said, “You can’t expect a lady to walk in muck, can you?”

A few moments later, her familiar emerged from a different tunnel, an adjacent passage blocked by rusted iron bars. Yui flicked her wrist and Miki melted through the metal. She ducked beneath and continued following the fowl without a shred of hesitation. She had no map or history of traveling sewers. She was too refined for that, Leor figured. How was she guiding them?

He glanced at Luella who had been scribbling her map each time they passed through a new tunnel. They had been walking in silence for a long while, the solar dial now a definitive vermillion, and the scholar had yet to say a word or question Yui’s guidance. Were they truly headed in the right direction? The uncertainty ate at him until he could temper it no longer.

“Are you certain we are on the correct path?” He asked, close behind her.

“Quite certain,” she said, keeping her eyes forward. “Can’t you see it? The river of light? It’s as thick as honey.”

Leor searched, but all he found was the brown grime seeping down the walls and dripping from the ceiling. He took note of the bronze tinkle and made sure to keep his mouth shut if he were to look up. “No?” He responded, unsure. Perhaps he misheard her.

“Truly? It lingers in the air like smoke.” Her heels echoed down the length of the tunnel. “I find it hard to believe The Sky Splitter left the inborn sense untaught.”

“I haven’t the slightest clue of what you speak. Who is this Sky Splitter? I’ve never met such a man and his inborn sense.”

She glanced at him as if she was examining his face for lies. “I can’t tell if you’re playing the fool. You mean to tell me you had no idea who gifted you Inazuma and Ikazuchi?”

His blood rose. He tired of these testing looks. “The old man, my mentor.”

“He never gave you his name?” She gave a mocking chuckle of disbelief. “Well, I suppose that is befitting of a deserter. He trained you in the sword, did he not?”

“Train,” Leor scoffed. He looked at Yoru and felt the scars on his back reignite like the wounds were still fresh. “If leaving me to die in the woods as a child is considered training, then I had the best of it. All I’ve known him for was an old drunk who always had women on his mind.”

“I see.”

He took note of the hint of sorrow in her voice. “And who is the old man to you?” A taste of your own medicine.

“No one,” she snapped, “No one but a traitor to his duty and family.” I must have struck a nerve, good. She slowed her pace to walk abreast of him in a glassy silence, then pulled him by the sleeve. Only when they were well ahead of the others did she finally whisper. “I need to find that man, Leor, and you are the last person to see him. Haven’t you ever wondered where he’s gone? Why did he take you in or left his famed twin katanas to you?”

His walk stiffened and he knew the sly woman knew he was enticed, even if it was for a sliver. That made her bolder.

“Tell you what — help me with my search and maybe I’ll teach you a thing or two about the inborn sense. Seeing as I’m already guiding you to Solaris, it’s a rather good deal, I would say.”

“I’d much rather have my swords back.”

The fire of her familiar flickered in her glower. “That I cannot do. Inazuma and Ikazuchi choose their own master and you are undeserving of that title.”

Sharp-tongued as ever. “And what good would this inborn sense prove?”

“Finding your way through a sewer for a start.” Yui pulled him to a halt at a cross-section and sent Miki soaring down one path before turning back to him. “Tell me Leor — how does one describe sight? Is it some unknown force that grants us vision?" She did not wait for his response. "No, certainly not. Our eyes absorb what’s before us and our mind gives it form. Sadly, we are imperfect beings. Our eyes can only see so much. The stone used to build these walls; rats scurrying at the flame; even the tiny insects between the cracks. If you strain your eyes enough. But what of the fire that fuels your ambition or lack thereof?”

When Miki returned from a different tunnel, Yui pressed her forehead to the phoenix and closed her eyes. “Every living thing contains a soul, a separate entity from the corporeal form. It bleeds from the body like a feeble creek or a raging river. Some a hideous black while others a beautiful sunset. But only a few can see the colors. Most only have an inkling.”

Leor pondered. The skill sounded like a bedtime fairytale one would tell children. “What color is yours?”

“You’ll have to find out on your own. If you’re lucky enough to be born with the innate gift.”

It took another darkened shade of red before they reached a sub gate, proving to him that Yui’s talk of a magical sense might not be a complete fable. Luella was so impressed by her navigation that she showered Yui with praise and compliments. She asked her how’d she find the correct route so quickly, to which the Yonchin replied, “With Miki’s help, of course.”

Was that a fake answer, Leor wondered? Or was she merely hiding the inborn sense from non-Yonchins? Was the inborn sense a Yonchin teaching? He shook his head. No, dwelling on it would prove nothing. He had to watch and listen, just as the Sky Splitter had taught him.

Yui stopped at the end of her glazed bridge of dried waste, where the sewage was lapping before her feet, and frowned. Sewage trickled out from the sub gate which raised the levels of the waste to ankle height.

When Leor asked her what troubled her, she complained of the rising muck being too deep to sear and that she could not press on without someone to carry her up to the elevated path and through the sewage. He was too stunned to speak. Were Yonchins truly this spoiled? But when he waved off her ludicrous request, she reminded him, “Without my guidance, you’d still be walking into dead ends.”

He conceded quickly for her words rang true, but it was mostly so they would hurry along. Not wanting to impede his movement further, he asked if Yoru was an acceptable steed. The Yonchin smiled and nodded, then carefully straddled the edgewolf. To his surprise, Yoru was much more submissive to her than he thought. He had hoped the edgewolf would’ve kicked around and splashed some waste onto her elegant clothing.

At her command, the edgewolf leapt gently up onto the upper metal walkway that led to the higher canals. Luella watched them with the envious eyes of a child. The stone was crumbling so Leor climbed up first. Only when the climbing path was deemed safe, the others joined him. He gave the scholar extra attention by helping her up halfway with a firm pull.

Beyond the sub gate granted them a glimpse of the former sewers and more. So much more. The sewage spilt over the canal edge and flooded the walkable path. They hugged the walls and walked carefully, allowing their light to guide them. The last thing they wanted was to plunge into the river of filth. Unlike the lower sewers, the upper level was less maze-like; it was a long stretch of tunnel with few turns and even fewer divergences, all sloped.

The Dreg Keepers have long abandoned their duty of declotting the sewage, Luella told them when they saw the red clumps of mush blotting the rising waters and clogging the gaps between the iron bars. The scholar said that the sewer system had been tunneled long after the end of the Great Calamity. Before the Licht Order moved to Tridon, Lord Gwyn had housed his realm in the old kingdom of light, but the young god had soon realized life in a city seated among the sky proved much of a challenge. Befitting its name, the days were brutal and the sun sucked up any traces of lingering water. Many had said it was the wrath of the Old Sovereign of Light, but the young god refused to submit. He had enlisted the help of Lord Khalon to mold a great cavern underneath Solaris, and Lady Naiomi to fill the lake and produce an everfrost glacier above it.

From then on, Lord Gwyn had instructed his strongest men who did not hold the title of Knight to build a system to separate the clean water and waste. It had taken ten years of labor and many lives to finish the intricate waterway. When all was done, the builders were charged with maintaining the canals, and thus, the Dreg Keepers came to be.

A pitiful reward for loyal servitude, Leor thought.

Luella and Yui atop of the edgewolf led the way, followed closely by Leor, then the others. Hendrick came to his side, grinning. The same smug grin he shared with Líada. “My lord, you’re quite popular. Another pretty lady dragging you off ahead for some alone time.” He punched him on the shoulder. Though it was a playful one, the meaty fist slapped hard.

“Cut it out, giant.” Leor paused to glimpse the women who were chatting amongst themselves, then looked at the giant. Only a mad man would volunteer himself on this expedition. He still knew next to nothing about the man who calls him that ill title. “What’s your game, Hendrick?” Leor said at last, in a low whisper.

He looked at him stupidly. “Game, my lord?”

“That. That right there. The lord shit. What are you after? And don’t tell me it’s because of some purblight brotherhood. I have never met another who willingly travels deeper into hell.”

“Does a man need a reason to fight for what he believes to be righteous?”

Leor’s face crinkled. “You must be out of your wits then if you think of me as righteous. Following me will bring nothing but your early death.”

“Perhaps so, my lord, but remember what I said to you in the woods. Some things are worth dying for. The Gods have had their play with us lowly purblights. It’s time for a new lord.”

“You truly have gone mad,” Leor chuckled. Perhaps an ally would prove beneficial. “Say, have you heard of an inborn sense?”

“Hm. . . no, can’t say that I have.” The giant rubbed his stubble. “I know very little about things outside of slaving and killing. . . and drink. Perhaps his Grace knows. I’m sure he’d tell you if you asked.”

Alden watched them from afar with his two black statues behind him, and waved. He looked more of a prisoner than a Pontiff, Leor realized.

“No, not yet. I’ve known Alden for only a short while and I know not where his true allegiance lies. He is the Pontiff after all.”

Hendrick raised a curious brow. “Oh? Then I take our little secret chat as an acknowledgment of my allegiance?”

No, he wanted to say, but instead humored the giant, “Not yet.”

His feet were bathed in sewage-soaked socks. Each step bubbled the sludge inside his leather boots, only for his sock to reabsorb it. It was times like these he cursed his lack of gold and wished he had scavenged knight greaves off the corpses at the outpost. Though the higher canals were also bountiful with harvest of armor. They found bodies piled along their path, shovels and pickaxes jammed deep into their flesh. One pair was peculiar enough to warrant an inspection.

Beneath the archway of a subchamber leading to another steep incline, two knights lay atop one another, their swords impaling the other. The Scholar wiped her glasses clean and examined the corpses, wiping the dirt from their armor. The Ruby Eye confirming they were the Fourth Pillar’s men. Freshly killed, she told them, blood dripping from the wound. Leor recalled the mad knights. He glanced at Hendrick to find the giant already giving him the same worried look.

“Perhaps the Gods have condemned them to this fate,” he joked, but no one laughed.

“The Gods had no hand in that,” an accented voice called out from behind the darkness of a pillar. Everyone jumped. Hand over sword, Leor peeked over as Líada stepped into the flame’s light. The merchant wore an ebony hooded cloak trimmed just below the knees and an absurdly large deflated rucksack. She had looked out of breath when he saw her. A thin coat of shine layered her face.

“It took you long enough. I’ve been watching the slick slowly inch down the stone. Any longer and I would’ve thought you declined my offer." She smiled. "Good to see you, Hendrick.”

The giant grinned and nodded.

“Leor, do you know this blind woman?” Alden asked.

“She’s not blind,” he said, uncertain. It was still a mystery how she saw through the black circlet. “Her name is Líada, the merchant who guided me to Fort Greymir and the purveyor of our secret sewer journey.”

“Oh, yes. A secret. One you share with five others I know nothing of.”

“That’s —”

“The bastard Michael’s idea?” She scoffed. “Who does he think he is?”

“A Pillar of Light,” Luella said, stepping forward.

“That means nothing in Celiran, girl.” She studied the scholar, coldly. “Well, no matter. Your favor should cover this little addition.”

“And what are you doing here?” Leor said, recalling her previous instructions. “Were we not to meet at the main flood gate?”

Líada frowned. “Not with those trolls roaming about. Damned things have risen. It’s not safe to travel alone anymore. It must be the work of you beyonders.”

“Trolls?”

“Half naked men in leather aprons. Thick with muscle and huge like walking mountains. They attack everything that is not their kind with some sort of long-handled sickle. It's too dark to be certain.” She shrugged and patted Leor’s shoulder with a firm slap. “But I’m certain they’ll also prove to be no more than fodder,” she added before turning to leave.

The others lingered a moment behind to exchange glances. Yui’s exceptional glare regarded the merchant suspiciously. Yet they followed after her nonetheless.

When the incline leveled out so did the waste, licking halfway below the knees. The stink of the sewers burned more than ever. Dung flies buzzed a feasting song and the sewage turned blood red. Leor had never wished to lose his senses, but the smell prodded the thought. Even the others seemed to catch a small taste of it, but the edgewolf had it the worst. Yui had to muzzle Yoru with her hand and caress its mane when it readied a cry so as to not alert the horde ahead.

It was as Líada said; the trolls were bloated masses of muscle, carrying an arsenal of weaponry. He had heard the scholar whisper, “Dregg Keepers”, when she laid her eyes on them. The horde was a dozen strong and growing as more joined their slavish march. Líada continued chasing their shadows, which Leor could only wonder why. Were the Dregg Keepers making their way to the main floodgate as well? He kept a hand over the lichtsword at his hip.

The horde disappeared around the end of the corridor where the merchant proclaimed it was the entrance to the main chamber. As Leor reached the corner, he heard steps quicken, splashing through the sludge with heavy feet. Have we been spotted? He raised a hand to quiet their steps, pressed his back against the wall, and angled his ear for a closer listen. The Dreg Keepers were running away, grunting, and . . .

Boom!

The chamber shook. Loose stone fell from the ceiling and waves rippled rapidly down the waterway. The party readied their weapons at once and surveyed their surroundings. Nothing. Then three more quakes erupted like war drums, the shockwave resonated up his legs and spread throughout his body. What the hell was that? He looked at Liada and the scholar for anything, but they looked as lost as him. Curious, Leor finally peeked around the corner.

The main sewer chamber, itself as large as Fort Greymir’s dilapidated cathedral, was a grand flat arena surrounded by sewage spewing out of the drain holes lining the moss-covered walls. Felled knights of the Order and Dreg Keepers scattered all over the room; submerged in the crimson swamp; embedded into the wall as if they were squashed flies; some caught in the vines that dangled from the high-vaulted ceilings.

A body flew and crashed near them. Another red wave lapping by their feet. The Dreg Keeper’s body was torn down the middle. Leor did not turn to see, but he could feel a deathly chill coming from his party. For the first time since entering the putrid waterways, he smelt something other than excrement. Fear. He gulped and followed the corpses. His mouth quivered open when he saw it.

Guarding the massive iron floodgate was an amalgamation of pulsating flesh and protrusions of weapons, tools, and bone that spiked its surface like snapped ribs, with a dozen grotesque tentacles made of a thousand fleshy, tiny arms. It was something not of this world, an ungodly creature that should not exist, not meant to be seen by human eyes. The monstrosity was half the size of the gate and had tendrils interlocked with the iron bars like a spiderweb of flesh. It swung at the charging Dreg Keepers and in a single swoop, it mowed four, cleaving through flesh, and grabbing the last by the foot before it dragged it into its toothy maw.

Alden mustered the courage and took a glance. The Pontiff froze stiff, his eyes bulged wide open. “By the Gods. . .”

Leor grabbed Líada by the collar. “What the hell is that thing? You knew about it, didn’t you?”

“That I confess to, but I did not have you run in blind as the trolls now, did I? A necessary sacrifice.” The merchant shrugged and smirked. “The choice to accept my offer was yours alone. You’re free to walk away as you see fit, but if you yearn to enter the city as strongly as I do, then this path be the best.”

He shoved her to the side and turned to the scholar. “Luella, does her words hold true? Is there no other path?”

Luella’s sight was locked on the monstrosity, the color of her skin flushed white as if all her blood joined the river at their feet. He had to call her again before she snapped awake. “O-oh, sorry. L-let me check.” She fumbled through her bag and took out her map. The parchment trembled in her hands. She studied the paper for a long while, her eyes glazing the same spot over and over. Luella swallowed hard. “It’s, uh, the closest one. T-the others would take half a day to reach and this one leads to the heart of Solaris. . .”

“And the lift is just beyond that mound of flesh,” Líada added.

“And how do you propose we get past it? Ask it to move?”

“That’s for you to figure out, Leor. My duty was to show you how to enter the city. It is yours to get us in. Do what you will. I’ll wait back here till the deed is done.”

He grumbled to himself and looked at the solar dial. It was almost the dreaded crimson purple as far as he could tell. Damn it. He turned to enter the chamber when Alden pulled on his shoulder.

“You mean to face that thing alone?” Alden shouted.

“If that is what it takes.” He dared not look at the Pontiff. He knew he’d try to sway his resolve.

Hendrick stepped forward and pounded his barrel chest. “Fret not, your Grace. I will not let the lord of purblights face the beast alone.”

Damn giant. Leor forced down his grin.

“Still, two is. . .” He gave his guards and Yui a look of desperation. The Dragonslayers stood still as stone while the Yonchin simply shook her head.

“Lord Alden, if Leor cannot handle his own problems, how can you expect him to prove his worth as a warrior?” Again, Leor saw her squeeze Inazuma and Ikazuchi. Was that a challenge?

“I agree with the Yonchin, Lord Alden,” said the tight-lipped Emilia. “Let us see why the ring has chosen him.”

Leor purged his mouth of the foul taste and refused to play with the conversation any longer.

By the time he entered the flooded arena, the Dreg Keepers had all fallen. He kept the greatsword steady on his shoulder and circled the amalgam, sizing up the beast. It was the largest foe he had ever faced, its tentacles half the length of the room. Yet it did not seem to take notice of him or Hendrick who approached the amalgam from the other side. A beast remains a beast, he told himself, but does that still apply to this thing?

“Hendrick, grab its attention.” He shouted.

The giant bashed a shield he scavenged off a corpse with his broadsword and whistled as he crept up slowly. The amalgam pulsed and whipped a meaty tentacle, Hendrick jumped aside and tried a slash but the tentacle retracted before the slice. Leor smiled. A beast remains a beast.

“Again!”

Hendrick nodded and repeated the taunt, dancing around the swings and shouting, “Over here, you disgusting ball of flesh!”

As the amalgam lashed at the giant, Leor crept to the main body and prepared the greatsword overhead for a devastating strike. But he heard the wind splitting and a tendril came rushing from the side. He slid flat into the sludge, the flesh pillar combed over him by a shred of hair. Leor scrambled to his feet, soaked in stink, but the ground beneath was pulsing and groping at his limbs like a million tiny hands. Out of pure disgust, he hacked at whatever was below, then leapt a great distance back. He expected some sort of follow-up attack, but the tentacles had already retreated.

How did it sense him? Was he too careless? Now that he thought on it, he rushed in just as the Dreg Keepers had, and look how they ended. Their bodies littered the waste like river stones. He cursed himself for being so foolish. Think! Study your foe as the old man taught you. It did not attack until he charged forward, even now it does not strike. Leor knelt and felt the ground. Stone. Then perhaps. . .

He stole a spear from a corpse and hurled it. The amalgam shrieked in pain when the spearhead pierced its upper flesh. It was almost human-like. He tried a few more throws and the monster cried, flailing its tentacles in desperation but the attacks were just shy of him. Leor smirked. “It senses movement through the ground with its feelers!” He called out to Hendrick. “Keep your distance and follow as I do! Quickly!”

The duo rushed for the scattered weapons and rained a storm of pointed silver upon the amalgam, weaving through the tentacles as they drew closer to the weapons until only their own remained. The amalgam pulsed like a dying heart.

Leor readied the greatsword for the final blow when suddenly, the monster’s body rumbled, the metal-and-timber skewers vibrating violently.

“My lord, get down!” Hendrick shouted as he tackled him, knocking the wind out his chest.

The amalgam wailed one final time before it exploded, shooting chunks of flesh and metal in all directions. An array of bone and spears pierced the giant’s backside. Hendrick fell limp atop Leor.

He staggered to his feet, moving the Hendrick onto his side as the backed-up waste rushed through and down the hollow.

“Hendrick,” he cried out, shaking him to keep him awake and inspecting the wounds. His right leg had been lobbed off clean below the knee by a stray axe. The others rushed at his cry.

“The healing waters!” Alden shouted at him, his voice a disoriented ring. “Take the blades out or it won’t heal fully!”

It was all ablur. His stomach buckled each time Hendrick screamed in pain as they removed the blades one by one. It took all of them to hold the giant down as Miki cauterized the stumped leg.