Chương 35: Chapter 34

The first thing Bishop Owen noticed was the road. Beside him was Bishop Romano and they could actually drink tea while the carriage continued down the road. The bandits named it 'I-15', a rather odd name. An even stranger phenomenon was Lyra's crown allowing such construction within its borders, controlled and protected by bandits, no less, from monsters that roamed about. Yet, the bandits seemed nice apart from the last sentence that made Owen frown, 'May Her Grace light your Path'.

First the Theocracy, now a new religious order had formed. All of it frustrated him, as the people needed Frae's light the most during times of conflict such as recent moons. Should a war be ignited against a different holy order, the Theocracy could completely wipe out the Church of Light. They could cite the need for more gold to fund the war, completely dismantling the ideals of the church. Despicable. The cardinals chose to turn a blind eye to their schemes as it allowed them to build the city.

But at what cost? Everyday, hunger, disease, and the undeath plague reached the city. Those who came for salvation turned away to their demise as they were rejected for having no coin. Even now, the purpose of this travel was to confirm whether the corruption had reached the Hadstead Mountains that the Theocracy had vehemently called 'meaningless'.

"Calm down, Bishop Owen," Romano said. Owen took a deep breath.

"I apologize, Bishop Romano."

"Take your mind off of your thoughts. Have you noticed the crowd perchance?" Pulling back the window cover of the carriage, he saw the roads were crowded with people in carts and on foot moving west. They were either going straight to the Barony of Lois or turning north towards the Dukedom of Tanison at the fork.

"Tell me, Bishop Romano. Is an alliance with a bandit camp normal for kingdoms?" Owen asked.

"Truly it is strange, and I asked myself the same thing last night."

"And?"

"I gave some blessings and healing last night at the tavern," Romano said.

"Rumours have it that the four Hadstead Mountain bandit camps have united."

"A warlord then?" Owen asked.

"A possible deduction," Romano said, putting a hand on his chin.

"Travellers have told me stories of lightning striking the same spot hundreds of times at the mountain. A legend may have unified the camp."

"What could Hebi's Sangtchjin be doing out here in this continent, I wonder..." Owen muttered, then shook his head.

"Yet the bandits spoke of a 'Her', did they not?"

"Ah, that is why I did not name Sangtchjin. He may be under this newly formed legend." Owen continued staring at the crowd that travelled along their path. The last recorded prowess of Sangtchjin was 726. Legends were prideful individuals, most were eccentric. There was no possibility for Sangtchjin to submit to a weaker legend.

"I know what you're thinking, Bishop Owen. But the road still makes no sense." Romano poured another cup of tea for himself.

"This smooth road would be destroyed during the war against the corruption. What would be the purpose of a bandit camp building these roads?" It was indeed nonsensical. Owen then turned off the silencing gem of the carriage and waved at a male traveller.

"Dear Sir, might I ask to which place you seek refuge for the winter?" The male traveller snapped his head up at Bishop Owen. His eyes widened before speaking.

"Oh great Bishops, have you not heard of Lois Barony's abundance of food?"

"We have, though, that may not be enough reason to seek a cold small port city for winter refuge. Might you allow us insight into your decision?" Owen asked.

"I see, then I shall tell." The male traveller spoke up louder.

"The baroness has sent messengers to seek out labour for her at the capital. I travel to her barony for such work."

"May we know what kind of work?"

"That I do not know. Just the baroness has declared she seeks able-bodied workers." Owen raised an eyebrow.

"Thank you, kind Sir, for the information. I shall leave you in peace on your journey."

"Thank you as well, Bishop. May Frae's eternal light guide you."

"May Frae give your life order, kind sir." Owen nodded then closed the curtains. The last bits of words the male traveller said put a smile on his face. At least their mission against the theocracy was working.

"Truly mysterious, Bishop Owen. I do not see how the baroness could hire able-bodied persons en masse after a war," Romano said.

"Shall we have a detour towards her barony?" Owen asked.

"We cannot. Our priority is the mountain." Romano shifted in his seat to view the travellers from his side of the window.

"Shall we head there after our visit to the mountain?" They'd have to travel back to the Church as winter starts anyway. There was no point in not visiting. Owen said, "Agreed. I do wish to see Marine as well."

"Has she written at all?" Romano asked.

"She has, but her letters stopped after the Count's war started." Owen remembered Marine always sending mail by the dozen, recounting each of the lives of the Barony's subjects. He could only hope she was alright, unharmed by the Theocracy's machinations. A knock came from the front wall of the carriage.

"Bishops, there is a detour ahead for an 'interstate rest stop'. It is but half an hour of the journey's time. Shall we head over or shall we head straight to the mountain?" the coachman said. How odd. A coachman usually did not recommend taking detours unless prompted to. Turning off the silence gem again, Owen responded, "You mention this rest stop as if you've been there before. Do you wish to take a break from the journey or do you recommend we take a visit?"

"You've caught me, Bishop. I do recommend taking a look at the interstate rest stop. There is a store called Star Cubs for stimulating drinks. When you drink it, it would feel as though you drink liquid stars. Beside it is a tavern named 'Fish-Fil-A', known for its sandwiches of crispy fish."

"Might I know the owners of this establishment?" Owen asked.

"Ah, that is a weird one, Bishop. The bandits own both establishments. However, please consider. As you've seen, I believe the bandits have turned a new, establishing a business for the good of the travellers."

"You are correct, coachman. I cannot deny your words as I've seen it with my own eyes." Owen turned to Romano. Truly, these are strange times regardless of the 'flock of dark birds' event.

"Shall we take a visit?" Romano asked. Owen didn't answer yet. He cared not for these 'stimulating' drinks. Alcohol was never something he indulged in. Even the most fragrant teas of Lyra was just simply a drink for him. Though he supposed he could eat something as he was getting hungry.

"Bishop Romano, how much gold do we have left?" Owen asked. Pulling his pouch out from his pocket, Romano counted the coins.

"About 3 gold and 22 silvers."

"We should have enough." Owen scoffed. The tolls might've been relatively cheap, but that did not mean their practice extended to their establishments.

"Coachman, please turn to what you call the 'interstate rest stop'. We shall visit this establishment for a meal."

"Understood. I shall have us there in no time." The coachman whipped his horses and the carriage turned to the right. As they continued on the journey to this rest stop, Owen noticed once again that the road was still bustling. In fact, it was slightly more crowded and the coachman had to tell those on foot to be careful as they were passed from behind. Would a bandit owned establishment be able to offer affordable prices to travellers? Surely not. Even a single silver to the common folk was a large amount.

Charging for less would just hurt their greedy bottom lines, especially as the initial entry fee for the road could be counted as a rounding error. Were they truly reformed bandits? Owen wanted to know. After about half an hour more, the carriage finally arrived at the interstate rest stop. There were people everywhere. Some sat on the grass while others sat at what looked like luxurious tables in front of the establishments.

These tables had a black metal top with a single dark wooden pillar that curved outwards into four distinct feet. The chairs were of similar fashion. Black metal seat with wooden back rests. The first establishment he saw had a front plate that read 'STAR CUBS' right above the front door. It was brown bricks, accented by black matte stone arches for the front entrance. The whole building looked like a cube. He supposed it wasn't fancy by any means, but it gave off a functional look that was pleasing to the eyes.

The second establishment had the same shape. Orange bricks, but accented by white stone instead of black. It created a contrast with the building beside it. On the front were letters in script that said 'Fish-Fil-A' in red.

"Shall we go into the building called Star Cubs?" Romano asked.

"I suggest we go to Fish-Fil-A. I believe Star Cubs is for drinks, correct?"

"Yes. Star Cubs is for drinks," the coachman said.

"Might I suggest the Double Quarter Fish Pounder on the menu in Fish-Fil-A?"

"What?" Owen asked. Seriously, he was confused.

"I apologize. Please explore the menu, Bishop." Romano opened the door on the carriage and exited. Behind him, Owen followed. Both of them walked over to Fish-Fil-A. Onlookers noticed their white garments, sparsely gilded with gold at the neck. A child waved at Owen with a smile on his face, and he waved back. In the child's hand was a sandwich with two pieces of fish between it, covered in a brown crispy looking coat.

The smell hit his nose after, a scent of oil mixed in with what was supposed to be fish, yet it wasn't off-putting at all. His stomach growled at the scent, even having to gulp as saliva pooled up in his mouth. Entering the establishment, what he saw was quite odd. Rather than the usual seating arrangements in a tavern of circular tables that took up most of the space, the whole area had rectangular tables lined with chairs. He could see strangers and families eating with each other, similar to a dining hall.

There were no servers that came by. Instead, people had lined up before the front counter.

"Excuse me, Bishops. Are you in line?" a woman asked behind Owen.

"Apologies, madam." Owen and Romano immediately moved forward to stand in the line. There were 4 others ahead of them, all craning their heads upwards above the server behind the counter. From there, they saw lines of text at the top that looked to be the menu. [Fish-Fil-A Single Sandwich: 3 copper.] [Fish-Fil-A Double Sandwich: 5 copper.] [Spicy Deluxe Sandwich: 6 copper.]... Owen read through more of the menu until he found what the coachman recommended. [Fish-Fil-A Double Quarter Fish Pounder: 10 copper.]"Bishop Owen, I believe these prices are very reasonable for the common folk. What say you?" Romano asked.

"I do not know what to say..." Owen muttered. Seriously, he didn't. How were they able to sell this food at such low prices? The bandits were supposed to be greedy, yet all of these told him they had been truly reformed. They were doing what the Church of Light should be doing: giving food to the masses in need. Although it was not free, at 3 coppers a sandwich, the price could easily be afforded on a daily basis. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen.

Please report the violation. A tug pulled at his sleeve.

"It's our turn next. Have you decided on what you want?" The movement of the line was too quick. Much faster than the taverns they stayed at in Lyra's capital. Owen read the menu again, but he had already decided.

"I shall get the Double Quarter Fish pounder as suggested."

"Good choice. I've seen some of them, and they looked really good," Romano said.

"Next in line please," the server said, a young woman who looked like she had barely passed adulthood. On the desk was a notepad with a quill pen that she wrote on. Beside the notepad was a lockbox. Romano and Owen stepped forward.

"Bishops, welcome to Fish-Fil-A. My name is Diane, today's server. Is this your first time here?"

"Yes, it is."

"Great. Do you need me to introduce each item on the menu or do you already know which you'd like?"

"I know which one I want," Owen said.

"Can I please have the Double Quarter Fish pounder?"

"Of course, and for you, Bishop?" Diane turned to Romano.

"I'll have the same."

"Would you like any drinks with that? I suggest the Arabelum refresher to quench down your thirst as you eat our heavenly fish sandwiches."

"Then we'll have two of those," Owen said, completely forgetting they had tea in the carriage.

"And will that be for here or to go?"

"Excuse me?" Romano asked.

"We could give you your food here on plates or we could give you your sandwich wrapped in Plaedis wood coated paper."

"To go please," Owen said.

"Coming right up. That'll be 30 coppers please." Quite expensive, but that was because they both got a drink and the most expensive item on the menu. Romano pulled out 1 silver, gave it to Diane. After a couple of seconds, she gave back 70 copper.

"It was my pleasure serving you. Your order number is 226. Please stand to the side and wait for your order, Bishops." Diane pointed them to the side and then ripped off her notepad. As she passed it to the kitchen window while calling someone named 'Therese', Owen and Romano stepped to the side. Other customers ordered their own orders and Diane did the same for those orders, pointing to the side and sending a piece of paper to the kitchen window.

It took about 5 minutes in total for their order to come out of the kitchen window.

"Order number 226!" Diane took a carefully wrapped sandwich in brown paper to the counter. Beside it were thin wooden cups made of what looked like paper, yet thicker and had the distinct dark colour of Plaedis wood.

"Thank you, Diane," Owen said.

"My pleasure!" Diane smiled. Owen and Romano took their paper wrapped sandwich and cup with them as they exited the establishment. They walked back to their carriage and told the coachman, who now also had a wooden cup but larger, to continue as they were towards the mountains. The carriage once again moved, but the whole experience haunted Owen's mind. Everything moved too quickly and seemed to have its own procedure. Was this really the work of a warlord? The whole thing felt odd.

It was as though Diane had rehearsed everything, just like the Theocracy's own speaking lines for the unfortunate visitors of the church.

"Why did we buy a drink?"

"I do not know," Owen said, putting his drink on the carriage's small table. He unwrapped his sandwich while Romano looked like he was messing with the drink that had no opening. But the man looked like he figured it out as he punched a hole through a marked spot on the lid. As Romano took a sip of his drink, Owen bit into the sandwich. As he took his first bite, he heard the sound of the crunch along with the texture that was just... heavenly.

He turned his eyes to his companion, also wearing an expression of shock.

"This drink."

"This sandwich." Both of them said at the same time. Owen didn't wait and took his own drink. Punched a hole with his thumb where the marked area was on the lid, and took a sip. The chilled liquid inside was just sweet and refreshing. It was nothing he had ever tasted before, a sweetness that was only exclusive to the nobles of kingdoms.

"Could a bandit warlord or demon really create such a tempting product while giving it to the people?" Romano asked.

"That we shall see..." Owen said. ☕︎ ☼ ☕︎ ☽ ☕︎ King Adric Lysenkov leaned his head on his fist as he sat on the throne. Before him, below the platform, was his trusted assistant, Ivan, an administrative knight who had been in the position even before he became Pandor's king. One thing didn't sit right with him. Has Lazarus truly abandoned him? Through the tinted glass to his right in the throne room, Adric saw the Fire Mage Tower. Perhaps the old fools at the top had a hand in his supposed disappearance.

It wasn't out of the realm of possibility, but what would the Fire Tower gain? Adric smirked. He always liked the Earth Tower the most compared to the other towers. Earth was simply the most useful out of all of them against the looming corruption of the north. A single earth mage could change the landscape to put any army at an advantage. Yet 'fire' had no qualms with 'earth'. Then the answer was obvious. To the south was the Water Mage Tower, holding 2 archmages in its ranks.

The Earth Tower just lost one, and now down to two. Though, it was curious. Maximus wasn't foolish enough to sacrifice the defense against the north. That's where all the conclusions came tumbling down. Nothing Adric thought of led to anything logical. The only possible reason for Lazarus's disappearance was death, not abandonment.

"A scroll, my liege," Ivan said, kneeling down as he presented the item. Taking it from his hand, Adric opened the scroll and read. To the King of Pandor, Adric Lysenkov, The Kingdom of Lyra does not permit military actions within its borders at any time. The Count of Mourier has suffered a huge loss under the actions of the Earth Archmage Lazarus. His mines are destroyed, and his people weep of famine. Lazarus has taken the Count's only method of earning coin, a great crime against the innocent.

Your Kingdom is hereby restricted access until further notice. Anyone above the prowess of 200 shall need to be registered under the Royal Court for access. Should you wish to rectify this act of unprovoked military aggression, the Kingdom of Lyra shall accept 500 gold as compensation. You have until the 6th moon of the next year to respond. Regards, Princess May Lallemant. King Adric already knew this letter was coming from Lyra's Royal Court.

Regardless of this restriction, they couldn't bar entry to the summoned heroes and their caretakers due to the Continental Summoning Treaty. However, he did consider it. 500 gold was an astronomical amount, yet not at the level of impossibility. Trade would become difficult if he didn't mend the relationship. The only reason why it would not be worth it would be in consideration of the nearing war with Dragus.

"Perhaps we send an answer?" Ivan asked.

"Send them a message. We shall pay the court 100 gold as reparations to the Court as an act of goodwill for trade. Should they accept, then it will be forthcoming." King Adric handed the scroll back to Ivan. The Princess of Lyra had always been shrewd, ever since he met her the first time. The scroll was merely the surface. What she wanted was a bribe to ease the tension between Pandor and Lyra, to appease the Royal Court over Lazarus' actions. The Count was just collateral damage.

"As you wish." Ivan wrote down something on the scroll.

"There is more news. The first is a dragon's appearance north of Stronghold Hatir, near our border with Dragus. The other is one of our Shadow Squall units that has returned from the Hadstead Mountains, where Raven flew to."

"Speak of the dragon first," Adric said. It was odd. Dragons were usually reclusive beings. Any time they appeared in the overworld, they would cause waves of violence.

"From the rumours, it seems the dragon has appeared in her human form. Onlookers recalled her orange scales on the wings on her back and tall horns that coiled by her hair. She wore black clothing and vehemently asked passersby where her son was." Orange scales and in humanoid form could only mean an ancient dragon. A walking disaster with a prowess of at least 1700. Adric leaned forward.

"Has Itzae left her post?"

"No one knows yet if the dragon in question is Itzae, as the being has not stated her name. The commoners have noted the dragon has been seen crying and searching endlessly. But based on evidence and descriptions, we could assume that the being is in fact Itzae."

"I see. Has she caused trouble in Dragus?"

"It would seem she has." Ivan smirked.

"The Stronghold of Hatir, which she was seen near, has a large gaping hole in its eastern walls." Adric's eyes widened. To think the strength of dragons could even destroy Hatir's walls. Yet this posed an issue. It was already known the Church of Frae had a civil war brewing within its ranks. What was unknown was whether it affected their Stronghold that held the line. While the heroes trained, the dragons helped the Church fend off the corruption, and now a hole within that continent was left wide open.

Again, it seemed things turned at rates Adric could not predict.

"A strange sighting, indeed, Ivan. It seems Itzae bore an offspring. Has there been no sighting of the young dragon?" Adric asked.

"None, my liege. I've looked into this issue personally before bringing you this news."

"A young dragon would still rival that of a legend's strength. Such a feat cannot..." King Adric snapped his head back to the ceiling at the broken stained glass window.

"A demon of corruption may have taken Itzae's offspring."

"I assume you have a decision on this matter?"

"You know me well. Send an envoy to look for Itzae and tell her of the direction where the dark birds flew." Ivan immediately wrote down the instructions on how to handle Itzae on the scroll that Princess May had given him.

"Your command will be done in haste." Although he had no idea where the young dragon had taken residence, it wouldn't hurt to take advantage of this to point Itzae against the demon of corruption. She might not be as strong as the demon that escaped, but if another dragon disappeared, it would force the hand of the Elder Ones.

"Now, the second item on the agenda." Adric shifted back to his seat.

"The Shadow Squall member. Bring him in." Ivan waved over to the two guards at the throne room's double door. The guards moved immediately, pulling open the heavy metal doors and revealing 3 men in the hall. Two of them were guards, standing side by side with what Adric presumed to be the Shadow Squall unit member. His face was obscured by black cloth with two hole cutouts for his eyes. The guards beside him walked him forward, just towards the front of the throne's platform.

"Might you reveal your face before your king, Shadow Squall member?" Adric asked. Ivan spoke up first.

"This man's name is Kromer, a top graduate of the Glory Knight Academy. It is understandable that hiding one's face in front of the king is disrespectful, but in this case, I would advise peeling his cloth back, my liege." He heard of the man's deformation in passing, but how bad could it be that even Ivan advised against peeling the cloth? Adric leaned forward.

"Kromer, do you wish to keep your veil and hide your appearance from your king?"

"No... my king. I wish... wish to-wish-wish to show my face? I have no face anymore. No face. No longer am I human." Kromer jittered around.

"I am your king, and you are my subject. All are equal in my eyes. Kromer, if your wish is to hide then I shall accept your request." Adric leaned back on his throne.

"Now, what have you seen?" It was then Kromer took the cloth over his head and peeled it back. Adric didn't notice his mouth gaped open as he finally saw what was behind the cloth. The form of melted flesh, bleeding in places where it shouldn't. A face that was not a face of a human but a mix of flesh and skin that had been grafted yet not. One of his eyes could not blink while the other blinked normally with a swollen look and pus dripping out of its cracks.

"You are brave, Kromer, but fear not, for your king still sees you as a subject of Pandor." Tears began pouring out of where Kromer's eyes should be. Blood mixed in with those tears as it dripped through the wrinkles and crevices of his melted face.

"Thank you..." He sniffled.

"But I do not regret my mission. My life is for Pandor and only for my king."

"Good. Now tell me, Kromer. What have you seen on your mission?" Kromer stopped sniffling and crying right then at the question. Coldness seeped into his words, seemingly coming from nowhere.

"A demon... or maybe a goddess? I was soul bound to Her. A contract she forced upon the lands. She was a strange deity... but do deities bind subjects to their will? No... she was benevolent. I saw... smiles. Smiles of people. Were they people? Maybe demons masquerading as humans. A benevolent demon or a wrathful goddess. She grew mad at me. She grew mad... she grew mad..." Kromer trailed off. Adric looked at Ivan, who met his eyes. Turning back to Kromer, he spoke, "Focus, my subject.

Was the corruption within the borders of Dragus at the Hadstead Mountains?"

"No corruption... no corruption... just a wrathful vengeful demonic goddess."

"Has a reclusive legend set up her base of operations in the mountain range? Speak, at once!" Adric shouted.

"A legend! Yes! A legend. It could only be a legend!" Kromer shrank back and whined.

"Could a legend take a dragon...?"

"Speak what you know about the dragon." Kromer started laughing.

"She named the dragon Greenie. Hahaha. Greenie was monstrous. The barbarians ran! Then caught by the vengeful legend! Served them right. That's right. Served them right. Arrogant barbarians!"

"What colour are the dragon's scales?"

"Green! That's why he's Greenie!" Kromer yelled.

"Or maybe it was a different colour? But why would the legendary demon goddess name the dragon Greenie? Her word was absolute, so it must be green. It must be. It must be green."

"Enough." Adric sighed.

"Send Kromer to ' rest'."

"As you command," Ivan said. He clapped twice and the two guards beside Kromer took him by the arms. As they dragged him, Kromer's words grew more incomprehensible by the second, laughing and then suddenly squealing in fear as he flinched at shadows. The two guards by the door closed it shut and the maniacal laughter disappeared, coated away by the silence gem.

"What do you make of this, Ivan?" Adric asked.

"I believe a strong reclusive legend has announced herself to the world." Ivan wrote down notes on Princess May's scroll once again. Though it felt too odd for Adric. There had been reclusive legends before that could bind a soul to them, but usually the subjects would die instead. The previous generations of summoned heroes had fought against a legend turned greater lich that had similar spells.

"Monitor the Hadstead Mountain range. There are possibilities of a secondary cataclysm apart from the north."

"I shall send a squad of Shadow Squall to monitor. I suggest placing them just far away from the range but enough to observe."

"Agreed. Place them at the Barony of Lois." Adric slumped in his chair. The squad would take a long time to reach the barony due to Lyra's restrictions on Pandorians. They would need to be smuggled in, as he just used his only way in, the summoned heroes, for Pavlina to gather intelligence on Lazarus. Once again, Adric felt the walls close in on him. First, the corruption, then Dragus from the south. Now, a potential second continental threat.

If it was just a legend, a coalition between other kingdoms with their own forces could crush this 'demonic goddess' that Kromer spoke of. Lessons learned from past records told him to be more cautious than that, and it burdened him even more, as what he truly wanted was something else. Was revenge against Reinglas truly worth it?

"Ivan, one more thing."

"Yes?"

"Send a private message to Princess Alizia."

"What shall the message have?"

"Just one word: cooperation."

"Understood, my liege." Ivan smiled. Revenge was petty, and he knew that very well. Though it could be made easier if he gave up part of his pride to work with the enemy's daughter, who had done nothing wrong. He'd need to wait for her response to move against Reinglas. The old fools sitting in their towers comfortably wouldn't do anything after Lazarus's disappearance. For now, all he could do was set his sight on the Hadstead mountain and unleash the beast upon the raven.