“Why am I being held?” a man wearing a heavy cloak protested, forced to kneel by those nearby.

Two weapons of gleaming white bone pointed at his neck, wielded by towering pale-skinned elves. They bore a black sash on their shoulder displaying a sunburst, with the rays of its sun replaced by the golden snake of House Vasquer. They did not answer him, and the people passing through the gate to Blackgard were held up by several soldiers as the conflict was dealt with. The refugees watched the situation largely in concern for their own safety.

The man protested and squirmed, but the blades wielded by the Veidimen were as immovable as a mountain. Soon enough, a new party of knights arrived. Leading them was a golden-armored knight with a long black braid descending from the back of his helmet, and the people muttered his name—Prince Orion, the vice-commander of the king’s royal guard.

Prince Orion escorted a tall woman with elegant bearing, wearing the black and gold of her husband’s kingdom. People recognized her, too, perhaps even more so than the knight. She was the queen regent, Anneliese. Some of the more reverential refugees knelt to her, but she single-mindedly walked to the man.

The queen regent sized the man up with her amber eyes, then nodded. “Well done. He’s a spy.”

Hearing those words, both the Veidimen and the man deemed spy moved at the same time. He cast a B-rank spell, disentangling himself from them, then called upon the Blessing of Supersession. His being was vested with the power offered by Erlebnis, and he called upon high-caliber magic which he directed toward the queen.

Prince Orion stepped forth to defend the queen regent with a shield that seemed to be made of a dragon’s skull, but she moved past him. She effortlessly contained the countless spells with a single ward. Some of the jewelry she wore resonated with divine power and strengthened her magic. He changed targets from her to the crowd, yet she reacted faster, containing him in a sphere of warding magic.

Isolated and neutralized, the spy grit his teeth and cast a spell with fear in his eyes. His body shifted and contorted, and then exploded into spikes of gruesome blood that propelled outward with alarming speed. Queen Anneliese’s ward was stronger, though. It did not show even a crack. She turned away from the sight with disappointment in her eyes, but then faced the crowd.

“The trouble is over, my people.” Her eyes slowly scanned the crowd, as if looking into the heart of each of them. “You will be in Blackgard soon. People like that can never get past this checkpoint.” She looked at the royal guard. “As I said, you did well. Ensure no one will be hurt.”

The guards knelt. “Yes, Your Highness.”

With a single nod, she left them all, exiting the checkpoint. Orion followed right after her, watching carefully.

Princess Elenore’s voice entered Anneliese’s head, carried by the blessing of the goddess of connections, Lira. “Is it done?”

He chose death like all the rest. Better he chose it when I came rather than when he was suspected, but our luck can only last so long. My magic

place. We would know at once

acknowledged. “Still, I cannot fathom where Erlebnis gets this many people willing to die

knowledge, not giving it to his underlings. We should be

you forgotten how we speak through your blessing

will be returning soon, and I

Anneliese answered begrudgingly. “See you in a

until he returns,”

long fields and orchards of bountiful crops, roaming livestock feeding on ground unpolluted by magic… in perhaps a year, this meadow valley had become a rival to the grandest cities on the continent. But it was put to test more

from Veiden. They came far overseas from other nations, bearing strange titles, strange weaponry, and

Veid, one a goddess of magic and the other a goddess of the Veidimen. Their alliance was not meager… and already, they’d drawn eyes by robbing Erlebnis, god

heist had already been realized in the divine artifacts wrested away. But soon, another harvest would be ready. Namely,

to the entrance of Blackgard’s parliamentary hall. Melanie stood there, and waved at Anneliese. The red-headed countess stepped up with her mercenary swagger, carrying a

The divine envoys are ready to join you whenever,” Melanie explained, a faint smile about her scarred face. “We’re supposed to

seriously. “I should hope so. Let me channel

#####

is Anne wearing?” Argrave asked Elenore, watching the Alchemist

every which way he desired—had Argrave’s chest split open, many of his organs sprawled out across the table next to him. The Alchemist worked at extracting a malignant-looking black magic thread from Argrave’s body piece by piece. They were in the process of removing the Blessing of Supersession from him without harming the rest of his body. This had been going on for a month by this point, and the end still

Anneliese is wearing?” Elenore repeated in Argrave’s head. “Are you really asking

weird one right now. My chest is split open, and I’m trying to help even still… well, it doesn’t matter. Give

worked. On Earth, he’d often heard about solitary confinement being torture. This was rather like solitary confinement with a phone, and front-row seats to an extremely

no view of the sky, and nothing to keep him company except documents and his surgeon… life had become a very dull and stagnant experience. And hearing of what had happened in the month that he’d been absent had only been more difficult. It was like having someone summarize every episode of a show

news he’d heard hadn’t been largely good,

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