“Marquise Rougedior, whatever happens, stay behind me. He is the
Hēgemṓn
of the Kataphracts, their elected-till-death grandmaster—he’s not a foe you can handle.”
The bronze bells of the Saint Bramwell Church—once forged in secret by the steelworkers behind their bosses’ backs—had long since been stolen. Nevertheless, the echo of Mr. Anhogi’s knocking his knuckles served just as well, announcing to the believers that the church’s last mass was about to begin.
“Okay, I get it. The Demmie has a cool sword, but he’s still a Soulful, right? You said it yourself back at the People’s Collegium—a human can’t cut off a god’s head.” In response, twenty-four of his knives flew at her, orbiting around Ælfgifu in a tight formation—ready to deflect any strike. The remaining twelve hovered near his shoulders like silent guardians. Then, her professor gave her the most bittersweet smile she had ever seen.
“If only you knew how bad things really are,” he murmured before reaching into his [Inventory], drawing a pair of fingerless gloves, each embroidered with the emblem of a deer whose antlers branched and twisted together to form the symbol of the Miraval Family—the Miraval Tree.
“Eight long years ago, I was the last man to see alive the last Marquis of Bloodmarch alive—SS-Class ‘Everlasting Waltz’ Kurtserk Rouge.” Mr. Anhogi began, tone low and eyes fixed on the Korinthian. ”We laughed together, betting on how long it would take him to wipe out the pocket of Kataphracts that had breached the eastern tower of Rouge Nox, and how much it would take him to reach me in the sewers, where most of the Korinthian forces were forcing their entry.” As he slid on the Mementos, roots began to interwine upward and downward across his arms and hands until from thumb to shoulder, he was encased in bark as thick as oak’s. “However, when I finished clearing the tunnels, there was no trace of him. So, I returned to the surface as fast as I could, only to find the Marquis’s corpse lying in the courtyard, while this bastard was standing atop the tower, wielding his heirloom.” He grabbed two of his hovering knives, assuming a duelist stance, while the rest of the flying blades stuck their tips into his wooden pauldrons. “A powerless Soulful killing a Class S? Impossible, they said—it had to be staged. That’s what everyone but me believed, but, instead of confronting an uncomfortable truth, the whole ’H.R.E.’ chose the only explanation that didn’t hurt their pride.”
“Are you telling me that he’s the reason why…you…” Ælfgifu swallowed hard as she watched her professor’s smile widening more and more.
“Eight years since I was expelled from His Holiness’s army. Eight years since that shameful trial. Eight years since the last time I felt pride.” His tone blended fervor and resentment—the cry of an avalanche. “Oh, thank you, ’Imperfect Eclipser,’ for granting me this one chance, this—REVENGE!” Mr. Anhogi rushed forward, his knives cutting through the church’s dust-choked air toward the featureless helm of his nemesis.
“Delusional.” Rougeserker moved on its own, twisting to intercept the knives—blood spilling from the two fresh holes in its living tissue. “It’s clear that calling Reactionarysm the opium of the masses is no hyperbole,” the Korinna’s Knight declared. From the crimson sword, dozens of entrail-like whips blossomed in every direction, ready to educate the professor. “Denying reality to the point of condemning a loyal soldier, just to preserve the comfortable lies their society fed them since birth…” Mr. Anhogi’s knives detached from his wooden armor, flying to meet the bloody whips mid-air, metal against flesh—bloodlets and sparks harmonizing their chaos. “As I always say, Essentias are not humans, but abhorrences of Nature. And as long as the wretched existence of even one of them continues to stain mankind’s pride, we will never break our chains!”
The rhythm of the fight quickened as Rougeserker’s swings grew heavier and more calculated. The twitching mass of blood and organs hammered against Mr. Anhogi’s disciplined defense, and each time the violet-edged knives intercepted a blow, they sank into the living flesh, forcing the ’Sinful Blade’ to retreat before it could regenerate and devoir his weapons.
“His armor’s massive, and he’s not even an Essentia! How the hell can he move like that?” Ælfgifu shouted as she did her best to support her professor, shooting debris bullets to slow down the monster’s advance whenever she could. Nevertheless, most of the projectiles were intercepted mid-air by the bowels whips, shocking the Marcher lady due to their almost-absolute precision.
“To answer your question, Marquise Rougedior, Rougeserker’s nerves and mine have interwined, compensating for my lack of speed and refle—” While the
Hēgemṓn
calmly explained—observing the courtesy of the Knight’s Code before a lady—Mr. Anhogi opted for a cynical view of the play to end the duel in a single hit. Like a skillful dancer, he pirouetted to his enemy’s side, dishonorably striking the back of his neck.
“Are you kidding me?” A fraction of a second before his blade could pierce the Korinthian’s armor and reach the brain, living muscle broke out from the seams between the plates—human fibers twisting together to absorb the knife’s momentum.
“I’ve heard thousands of your filthy Reactionary speeches about honor, and despite that, every single time without exception, you hypocrites are ready to slip on your fathers’ graves for the smallest gain.” From the pulsing mass, strings of flesh surged forward, wrapping around Mr. Anhogi’s left arm and constricting it with unbelievable strength. “Anyway, you ought to stop thinking of Rougeserker as a weapon, and start thinking of it as a familiar—a loyal steed that thinks and acts on its own with its first instinct always being to protect its master.” The ’Sinful Blade’ struggled with all his might, but his arm didn’t budge a millimeter, and none of his flying blades succeeded in severing the fibers restraining it. “I am an imperfect human who could be easily fooled by the words of a so-called nobleman who promises me a fair duel. However, Rougeserker has hundreds of eyes, offering me an omniscient view on the battlefield. And now, it’s time to reward my loyal patner—IT’S TIME TO EAT!”
*Swoooosh—thnkkkkkkkk!*
In less than an instant, the mass at the back of the knight’s neck shifted positions with the blade of coagulated blood, lunging forward. Mr. Anhogi reacted on instinct, recalling the knife still lodged in Rougeserker’s flesh, and the weapon answered, slicing clean through his own trapped arm and severing it just as the crimson blade was about to open his head in two.
“That toy…is far too dangerous…” The Essentia did its job, regenerating the lost arm in seconds. However, the old one was still in the hands of the enemy, and the professor could only watch in horror as Rougeserker twisted around it, devouring the limb piece by piece and spasming with delight at each new bite of his flesh.
“You have…no [Stats] over 300…” The now-frightened Kataphract didn’t wait for an answer. Instead, two wide wings of flesh, organs, and blood bloomed from within his pauldrons, spreading like the convoluted branches of a leafless tree. Then, with a strong burst, the
Hēgemṓn
flew to the ceiling, hoovering beneath the church’s stained-glass cupola—his silhouette blocked the sunlight, darkening like the moons during an eclipse. “Who the hell are you?”
“Liar!” Ælfgifu shouted. “He’s a professor at Miraval Academy! They only hire the best of the be—” Her protest was cut short by a sharp ding—a new notification. After opening her [Contacts.Window] the Marquise De La Marche blinked in shock—the [Email] from an unknown sender contained a photo of her professor’s [Stats.Window]. “Slander!” She snapped, releasing a new storm of debris on the foe. “You’re not even an Essentia—how could you measure his power so precisely, anyway?!”
“Once Rougeserker feasts on enemy flesh, every secret buried within that DNA is revealed to its master.” The grotesque wings beat once, twice, thrice, and more, unleashing a series of gales that blinded the ’Sinful Blade.’ When he reopened his eyes—Rougeserker was at his neck. “This isn’t your real body, is it?”
Mr. Anhogi was forced to recall half of the knives he’d left to defend the Marquise, and now twenty-four violet-edged blades flew to intercept the attack, colliding with the spasming weapon and releasing a storm of crimson sparks. Nevertheless, the recoil was too strong, and the ’Sinful Blade’s’ boots carved deep trenches into the stone floor as Rougeserker’s monstrous strength pressed harder and harder, driving him back inch by inch, until his shoulders met his student’s.
“Is he telling the truth—you’re not really here?” Ælfgifu pleaded as she unleashed volley after volley of dust bullets and debris storms at the Korinna’s Knight.
“Little squirrel,” Mr. Anhogi began calmly, even though he struggled to hold Rougeserker’s gluttony at bay. “Remember when I told you that Adam blessed us—Class S—with digits higher than anyone else?” She nodded. “Well, despite being deities among mortals, we Class S are still human, to prove ourselves worthy to join Adam in Paradise, like anyone else. That being said, only Hero Roland ever surpassed 500 in a single [Stat], and do you know why? Because this test called life would be far too unbalanced otherwise—those who fly too close to the sun shall fall.” He breathed heavily, and then, with a sudden surge of strength, the ’Sinful Blade’ pushed forward. His violet blades pressed harder and harder, sinking into the spasming mass of blood and organs till the professor managed to take a single step forward.
“I learned that in Catechism—the higher the [Bonus], the harsher the [Malus].” Ælfgifu declared. “But that doesn’t explain a cap of 300 across all [Stats]? That’s just too much. What could you possibly possess that has forced Adam himself to block your potential so hardly?”
In response, he gave her the brightest smirk. “My [Skills]—what else?”
*Hhhhsssssssssssssssss!*
From each of the floating knives came a sharp hiss, followed by the slow release of a purplish gas that spread through the church. Within seconds, the mist thickened, swallowing both professor and student, concealing the faithful from the Fallen Angel’s sight.
*SKREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAGHHH!*
The instant Rougeserker’s flesh touched the violet haze, a groesome shriek erupted throughout the church—a sound that could only describe the embodiment of agony. The convulsing mass of blood and organs writhed uncontrollably due to a pain so intense it triggered its emergency protocols, flooding his veins with a rush of adrenaline. The
Hēgemṓn
received the same shot, instinctively retreating toward the dome above. However, the creature’s body spasmed too irregularly and too frequently to be steered, turning its flight erratic and forcing the Korinna Knight to crash-land atop the altar roof.
“It’s all right, Cuteserker, nothing’s been done to you,” he whispered, tone calm as he stroked the spasming mass. “It’s only an illusion, one of the filthy Reactionist tricks. What you feel isn’t real—it’s a lie, like everything their Unholy Rotten Confederation stands for.” Despite the soothing words and the gentle touch, Rougeserker continued to convulse, its spasms growing worse. “Full shutdown,” he commanded with no other option left, and one by one, the organs and flesh detached into fibers, wriggling like worms until they vanished entirely beneath his armor. Now, the
Hēgemṓn
stood alone again, his armor’s bluish steel glistening under the light of the dome, with no trace of organs and flesh remaining—not even a single stain of blood.
I only caught a glance of what Rougeserker felt, but the pain…it wasn’t like the pain I’ve endured from torture—it was the kind that comes from the heart, one that never fades with time. Are you…the devil?” Thermal scanners, Radiation sensors, Hydrowave radars, these were a few of the devices embedded in the armor of a Kataphract, meant to eradicate all uncertainty in battle. Yet, when the
Hēgemṓn
’s instruments analyzed the purple mist, they returned no data—no heat, no density, and no Radiation, it was as if the vapor was the entrance to another dimension. “Are you the reincarnation of the cruelest of the Chaotic Gods?” He asked as he drew from his [Inventory]—an artificial one embedded within his armor—a Tigress, pointing it at the dome above, where a dusty stained-glass depicted Adam extending his hand to humanity below. “Are you—the ’Dawn Sovereign?’”
*BAAAAAANG!*
An orange bolt exploded from the Gaussbow barrel.
*BAAAAAANG!*
However, mid-flight, the shot got intercepted by a fragment of marble, exploding into an orange mist that veiled Adam.
“What was it like to take a human life?” The ’Sinful Blade’ stepped out of the violet cloud, the haze winding from his shoulder like a cape, while, in his hand, he held a strange mid-sized sword—its blade crooked like a stick and as translucent and purple as an amethyst. “It’s a question journalists, attorneys, and judges asked me a thousand times during my trial.” He continued, pointing the blade toward the altar, ordering the mist to encircle the altar. “But I think they all asked the wrong question. ”What I always wanted to hear was—’How do you think your victims felt before their last breath?””
“Nice sword,” the Korinna Knight calmly asked, his tone almost curious. “Not as grotesque as Rougeserker, but I don’t know why—just looking at it makes me sick.”
“Do you like my stick, don’t you?” Mr. Anhogi beamed. “It’s called Brainstem, and as its name suggests, it has a peculiar power—one unique to my [Class]. It allows the wielder to face the consequences of his sins—physical and emotional pain alike—that they’ve ever inflicted on their victims—all at once.” The violet storm surged forward, engulfing the
Hēgemṓn
. “[SINNERMAN]!”
”AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.” The scream that followed
strained the already wavering air—madness made audible. The church’s crumbling walls trembled as the chorus of torment grew louder and more eerie, while the black silhouette within the mist twisted into inhuman shapes—a true mirror of Hell.
“Life is the cruelest game.” Mr. Anhogi began, echoed by the high-pitched shrill of that infernal orchestra. “Being a Class S might seem like a blessing, but, in truth, it is the greatest curse of the Holy Trinity because we exist only to prove ourselves worthy of Adam’s gift.
”A worthless soul might find a mistress or drown in vice, and commit other sins that only harm himself or a small circle of people at worst. But we Essentia are gods walking on earth, carrying powers that, with a mere snap of the fingers, can erase millions of lives in less than an instant. So tell me, man who has broken his chains—-do you see now how cruel Adam has been to us? How perverse one must be to grant his children the capability of sinning as we wish without consequence until his test reaches its end?” He swung Brainstem in an arc, and the violet mist started to thin and fold away, releasing the sinner within from his torment. “Why are none of my [Stats] above 300? Because more than enough to deal with those who, due to their weakness, might be free from sin. Whereas, for anyone above that digit, [SINNERMAN] will always deliver their judgment, and to this day—I have yet to find an exception.”
”AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH.” Although the
Hēgemṓn
’s silhouette grew clearer with every passing second, his scream did not fade. Instead, it deepened and distorted until it resembled a Hydro’s static.
“I think this is enough, Mr. Anhogi.” Ælfgifu stepped through the violet cloud, her face caught between awe and doubt at her professor’s terrifying display of his [Skill]. “You know…capturing a high-ranking Korinthian could give us priceless intelligence, helping us to break the siege.”
“Maybe,” the ’Sinful Blade’ admitted, lowering Brainstem. “But I can’t erase any memories. Hence, we can only pray his mind hasn’t broken in the process…ahem…like your friend—Shadow Eye.”
That name sent a shiver down her spine. Sudden flashbacks of her visit to Saint Miraval Hospital, and the abduction that followed, flooded her mind, almost freezing her in place. “Anyway…Is it true? You can really see people’s sins?” Mr. Anhogi silently nodded. “Then…then you ought to find who betrayed Ysol—”
*BAAAAAANG!*
The corner of her eye caught a flash of light before it was completely shrouded by her professor’s chest pressing against her face as they both fell to the ground.
“Aiming at a little girl, and you dare call yourself a follower of Heroine Korinna?!” Mr. Anhogi shouted as he forced himself upright, eyes locking on the featureless helmet and the Tigress pointed straight at them. ”[SINNERMAN]!” The violet dust surged again, engulfing the Korinna’s Knight in a spiraling cloud. However, instead of screams, they only heard a flat laugther. “You must be kidding me…” Mr. Anhogi couldn’t believe his eyes. “You killed thousands at Bloodmarch! How can you bear the weight of that pain without flinching?”
“Ahem, I think you misunderstand your own power.” The
Hēgemṓn
began, tone almost bored. ”Your [Skill] affects those who have tasted sin, but I am a faithful servant of the true Trinitarian Faith, and of its True Prophet—Euroine Korinna.” He raised both arms. ”Hence, I have never committed a sin in my entire life, so you can’t do anything against me.”
“Shut up! You’re a soldier, too. You must know what it feels like to take a human life. That alone, whatever valid reason was, is enough for [Sinnerman]!” Mr. Anhogi roared back.
The knight waved both hands in dismissal. “During my twelve years of loyal service to the nation, I’ve ended 1,303,030 lives in total—1,288,000 indirectly as a result of my orders, 12,000 sailors aboard the ships I sank while serving in the navy, and more than 3,000 by my own hand on the battlefield. So, what does it feel like to take a human life? I wouldn’t know.” He smiled beneath his helmet. “I’ve only ever killed Reactionary scum.”
“Do you think this is a game?!” Ælfgifu snapped. “His armor probably has some protection built in, so don’t fall for his lies and don’t lose focus, Mr. Anhogi.” She clenched her fist, trying to cheer him up, but nothing she said could erase the shock from her professor’s face.
“No…that’s impossible. Remember, his and Rougeserker’s nerves were linked—he should have felt my [Skill] the first time I’ve used it…” he muttered, whole body trembling.
“So you’re telling me that…” The ’Dust Symphonist’ swallowed hard. “He actually believes what he just said…”
“World peace will come when my blade cuts the throat of the last abomination called an Essentia,” the
Hēgemṓn
proudly replied.
“Oh, for the love of Adam—shut up, fucking Demmie.” Mr. Anhogi slips out of his rage. ”There’s one thing I don’t understand—why fake a scream? Was your joke really that fun?” The ’Sinful Blade’ asked, and, as an answer, the Korinna’s Knight pointed upward.
“To mask my emergency rescue signal—what else?”
*CHHHHRAAAANG!*
A rain of bricks fell upon the church. The dome collapsed, and in its place rose dozens of heads—each belonging to a different species of beast.
*BANG!* *FWSSSSSSSSSH! *
From the Tigress a grappling hook was shot, latching onto the back of a gigantic eagle and yanking the Korinna Knight onto its back. “I know it’s anticlimactic, but I’m not stupid enough to fight without Rougeserker. Anyway, it was entertaining, so let’s try to finish this another time. It’s better as soon as possible because—you don’t have much time left,” he concluded as the beast took flight.
”WAIT!” Mr. Anhogi screamed as the Sphinxes leaped into the church, surrounding the professor and his student. “If you won Rougeserker by killing the Marquis of Bloodmarch, then what the hell did you use to defeat him in the first place?”
“Sorry, no spoilers. If you want to know how a human can cut a god’s head, you’ll have to wait for my…
leitmotif.”
