/monster/ - The Last Bastion of Romance

By the way, OP…

Are you aware that you started out with the nekomata child's name as "Lei Ming" for a post or two, but afterwards started referring to her as "Mei Ling"? Was "Lei Ming" just a typo?

>>393581

I didn't even notice. But Mei Ling sounds a lot better, in my opinion.

>>393581

Didn't even notice that typo either, good catch. She is indeed Mei Ling however.

>>392935

I approach walking along with Hashir as I turn on my glamour.

Glamour is a very simple spell that most of us magical monsters like to use. It “helps” people see what they want most to see. It makes us look… optimal for what they desire or would listen to. For a lonely man like Crowe I seem affectionate and motherly, gentle and understanding. To an aggressor I seem like someone they would like or get along with. A minor adjustment of facial expression and body language will make people believe anything they already want to.

A light bow before I speak.

“I was wondering when you would arrive.”

He leers forward, then smiles. His previous angry mood dissipates quickly.

“How is the… Supposed situation?”

“Supposed? I assure you it's very real. The Dryad have killed or abducted hundreds, only a skilled few managed to escape or help hold them back.”

“And the sorcerer?”

“He’s currently holding them back, He asked me to request aid from the standing army.”

He smiles, showing white teeth.

“If he’s holding them back then there’s no need to rush.”

I smile and nod.

“He will of course be perfectly fine until we happen to get there.”

I end up walking beside the man, the commander orders this “Kalisto” to get off of his horse and allows myself to ride it as well. I can feel a glare coming from both the man and Hashir. After a couple minutes of slowly walking and resting on the horse Hashir can no longer restrain herself.

“Why are we walking so slowly? People are in danger, How could…”

Swiftly I raise a tail and apply pressure to several points on her body, rendering her unconscious, then lifting her up to the back of the horse.

“I hate it when the unimportant ones talk, don’t you?”

The man left eye narrows slightly more than the other as the slightest smirk raises from his lips.

“We are of the same mind, May I ask for your name?”

“Yome, Grandmaster of the Soft-tails, and you?”

“Commander Griger. Pleased to meet you.”

I wish I could say the same. I would prefer to have ripped out and eaten his liver, but I will have to avoid a diplomatic dispute.

I lean in and whisper to him.

“You know, he’s not that powerful on his own, that particular sorcerer. Those golems are to protect these two. He’s probably already dead.”

He whispers back, with bated breath.

“Truthfully?”

“Without a doubt. I would think he has… certain items that could reasonably be… missing on the battlefield. The only words we have are a small child and a mercenary guard against a mighty general and myself. If we’re lucky, they will be dealt with, the threat weakened and you can take the credit. His golems arrive with the wounded I’m sure they will love to hear your acts of heroism when they recover hm?”

His smile disgusts me. It was all I needed to know.

>>393628

Many people are of the belief that magical creatures cannot lie. This is untrue, some can and some cannot. For a fox, it depends upon them at random and is decided by the god of the foxes. Such is her fickle nature, if someone living knows that the fox in particular can lie they lose the ability to do so.

I can lie.

In fact I do it very often to those I target. Mortals are easy to lure with inklings of power. A simple act to draw them to trust you because you are “Of like mind”. Just because you think alike and seem a little attracted to them they will listen to anything you say.

Personally I hate mortals, their short sightedness leads to suffering in their nations. So when Crowe’s minions rise over the hill and the crowd of soldiers panic at the monstrous form of the living tide of bones and their gazes rise along with their panicked shouts I find the perfect opportunity.

I possess him and now pull his strings. I reached into his skull and now he thinks he’s in control, like always. My possession is quite insidious, it “Whispers” good ideas to him like a muse.

Using him I force everyone to calm down and make them set a triage for the injured and bring the others forward. More importantly, I order that I should be allowed to speak to the escorted two for more information, as I “know them”. The pace of the group has doubled since my requests have been met.

This particular commander was well adjusted to using fear to control his men. Not a single one dares question any order he shouts, no matter how odd or insane.

The three monstrosities that follow the cart are something to behold. Hulking and lumbering, but by choice. They seeming leer over any who are near them by their chosen posture as if ready to strike at a moments notice. Looking back upon the trail I can see their heavy markings along the ground behind them, their long armoured toes gouging the thick padded clay like fresh springtime soil. They turn their… hollow helmets to look directly at me. I raises a far to long arms from inside its robe as if it's going to open the carriage door. I have to gesture towards it so it doesn’t tear the locked door off the side of the carriage.

I slide in the key and open the door. The two I promised to protect seem entirely fine, if depressed. The little one’s ears flick as she looks towards me while the other one looks ready to attack at any moment.

“Hold, I’m here to help. I’m a friend of Crowe, your father. He’s dealing with a serious issue now. I’m getting all of your out of here, now, and taking both you Kala and Mei Ling home.”

The child has the face of a doll, rosy cheeks and large fluffy kitty ears. Tufts of fur come from the insides of her ears and blow with the wind from the open door. To say beautiful would be an understatement. Light facial markings accent her cheeks in a ritualistic fashion, almost giving her a glow. I can see why he’s so protective of her, I would probably adopt her if I could.

“Are you Yome?”

“Did your father tell you about me?”

“He said you’re one of the most beautiful and dangerous women he’s ever met. I smell father’s blood on you, why should I trust you?”

she maintains the same sweet smile.

I feel a shiver down my back as she looks at me. She’s entirely unaffected by my glamour.

“I was not myself, I was injured and unaware of my surroundings and struck him accidentally. He said it was a minor inconvenience at best, he will be fine but he wants you home. More importantly, why are you with these people?”

“I’m still here for papa. I would have retreated to the ship to wait but we were asked to come along if we weren't lying by that man. It's obvious he wants to extort papa using me. He will change his mind when he sees what father has done. He’ll see his future. Then he’ll let us leave.”

I look at her closely, not sure if its naivety or just some knowledge.

“Are you certain?”

She looks at me, entirely deadpan.

“You don’t understand what my father is really capable of, do you? Look ahead, in three minutes everyone will understand.”

Truthfully it's less than two minutes before the land evens out to a plain. The forest that once lied past the temple is no more. The land is barren save massive clouds of foul smog that choke the very air. It hangs in the air rather than settling. I can feel no trees, plants or wildlife as if there’s nothing left.

I look towards commander Greiger and see a absolute look of terror. The colour leaves his face as he looks upon the remains of the forest, miles in the distance now a cloud of choking smog. It takes him a moment, to his credit, to regain composure. For a moment, he clearly considers his options as he starts to sweat.

“Second Kalisto?”

“Yes Sir?”

“Get our guests some good water and food. I’m using my authority to contact the General.”

It's not thirty seconds before a Gate, a tear through reality, opens nearby. A woman with the lower body of a snake wearing golden armour and a feathered crown-like headdress comes roaring out. The back of her tail is covered with thick plates of steel and bronze ornamentation and the end of her tail is adorned with a large curved blade.

She is larger than any single lamia I have ever seen. Perhaps larger than any two I’ve seen put together. Her hair is wet as is some of her skin and scales.

“Commander Greiger…”

She looks toward the forest, her look of intense rage visible by the tips of her claws penetrating the palms of her hands.

“…Why is the forest gone?”

>>393630

—————————————————————–

I feel cold and numb, feeling only the icy wind through my broken armour. The unnamed creature upon my back has died in honourable service, my living armour has died after all the abuse it was put through and the minions with me are likely gone.

I have won. The parasite princesses are dead.

I don’t have feeling in my legs, but my three remaining fingers are suitable to find my balance. The last seed of the princess in my palm, I crush it and drain its lifeforce into me. I fall back among the dead, bones crack and ash is blown into the air. My palming at my mask is futile, even as I try to use my fingernails to pry some off I find that my mask finds more purchase into my fingernails than the other way around. My extra senses are shot, I’m blind and vulnerable as a kitten in the middle of a dead forest.

The body of a single princess lies beside me, I remember. It was missing a leg and arm as far as I can recall. I feel the innocent fur of the poor creature as the wind roars once again around me.

Was there wind when I was fighting? I don’t remember the ash being thrown into the air…

I move my fingers around its chest to feel it moving ever so slightly. Its dying, but alive. I feel along the poor things threads as it dies. I feel them slowly fray as I make it stop and tie them together and I make the dying stop. I don’t know why I do this. I have made no deal or pact, no promise nor pledge. She’s not my responsibility or burden, she does not fall under my precepts or dictations or duty…

Why did I go out of my way to save the other hosts again?

I feel overwhelmed, the lack of senses around me consuming me. I don’t understand why I do anything anymore. My master is missing, my country is dead and my everything is meaningless. Why do I still exist in this world, why have I outlived my dogma? What is my fight? What have I spent my existence killing and murdering for? Why do I still feel the need to enforce the laws of a scorched nation of dead men?

Who am I?

Why do I do the things that I do?

I hear the cracking of bones all around me, a sudden quake. It never stops as many seem to be crushed as various things move. There are no words spoken, only the crunching of bones filled with empty air but I know they exist around me. I can feel their stares. If I am to die, it would be a good death. Maybe I’ll wake up in the tomb again and I get to do it all again a second time.

“It was a nice dream while it lasted.”

Something warm reaches behind my head and around my chest and arms. I’m lifted into the air, it can feel my weight as if the ground is eager to reclaim me. Something soft and fuzzy finds its way around my neck, like I’m being cradled.

The darkness slowly encroaches around me, overtaking me as my consciousness fades.

“This time…can I go home?”

It's a pleasant feeling, my head is pulled and my body bent slightly. I’m not dying I think, just suddenly very, very sleepy. In my mind I “hear” pictures, they make little sense to me but the patterns somehow have meaning. Then all I feel is a warm hand to hold as I soon feel nothing at all.

>>393631

—————————————————————

The choking smog is quelled by several mages.

This land is beyond dead. It generates neither magic nor energy. A sorcerer, mage or myself can’t draw any energy into ourselves so it slowly grinds down the casters among us. It’s not long until their own reserves start to run dry. I worry for Crowe, but deep in my heart I know the fight must already be long since over.

I can only hope that it was a decisive victory.

The entire way the general is “talking” to the cowering Grieger. Telling him to look around and take it in. She does not say to much beyond shouting to make the soldiers move, inevitably we find an area deep within the forest where I can sense remains of magic, a great deal of it in fact. It is a crater, about ten meters in diameter and a meter deep at its lowest point nearby. There are no remains of Crowe left, nor of the grove princess he was fighting. However, the natural magics wielded by the princess can still be felt, but fading.

The general is entirely stone faced, looking towards me and then towards the remains of the grove where several soldiers are skimming the ground to find any evidence.

“Thank you for your cooperation, Grandmaster Yome. It will make explaining this much easier. Tell me, do you think he’s still alive?”

“Mei Ling says he is, that child knows him best. According to her he’s likely recovering, but… not a single one of his minions can be seen and I cannot sense his magic even in this dead forest…”

The conversations continue but nothing ends up being found, this place is now a wasteland. It's not long until I lose faith in his survival. I leave towards the entrance to the forest and return to my daughter, Mei ling and her bodyguard.

My dearest little girl is still stirring, but I can feel no wrong with her. She tosses and turns in Crowe’s carriage that the general so kindly had brought over here by a few underlings. When she does a little ambulet rolls over her shoulders onto the seat. It is made of tarnished silver and an odd green stone. On it is a very old piece of heraldry, an Arrmagam personal sigil. It's been centuries since I have seen a piece like this. I gently pick it up between my thumb and forefinger, feeling the bumps caused by tarnish. It opens as I feel the latch, a picture of another fox, tall, imposing and with golden fur. Inside are several engravings that I can thankfully translate.

“Property of the Grand High Inquisitor of the Spire of Retribution, the honoured Tenth Seat.”

I figured it didn't belong to her, I had a couple of suspicions of who “Crowe” really is… or was. He’s from an influential line. I look towards the picture of the fox, it's carefully modeled. In fact it's not a sealed picture but a gently carved gemstone coloured and dyed that’s been bonded to the inside of the ambulet. From the corner of my eye I can see Mei Ling, her glare is clearly fixated upon the ambulet in my hand.

“Do you know who this is?”

“He does not talk about her, but from what I know she tried to kill him”

Set 1:

Information: Yome would like to ask someone who knows Crowe more about him.

>The Empress of the Depths, or representative

>Old clan Scrolls

>Other clans

>The people around him

Set 2:

Arc 2: An Inquisitor Missing

Who will be our primary protagonist for the next arc?

>Clementine

>Yhammena

>Kama/Yareif

>Mei Ling

>>393632

Set 1:

>The people around him

She should ask Mei Ling. Probably no one knows him better than her.

Set 2:

>Kama/Yareif

I think it would be interesting to take Yaereif's perspective. But I'm nearly as interested in Mei Ling's perspective on things. But I'd really like to know both.

>>393632

>set 1

Mei Ling

>set 2

Mei Ling

>>393640

Fuck, sorry about that

Asking the ones close to him is a good start. Also going with Kama/Yareif

>>393632

Set 1

>ask mei ling

Set 2

>mei ling

>>393632

Set 1

People close to him

Set 2

Kama/Yareif

>>393632

I don't trust this fox. I don’t like her at all.

Father has said to be wary of them, to be mistrustful and take great care. However, that ambulet belongs to father. Why does the smaller fox have it? Why was it affixed around her neck? Did she steal it?

Perhaps so, perhaps not. There’s only one way to be sure.

She speaks with a carefully chosen voice, showing me the picture within the ambulet.

“Why did he give this to Kama?”

I can think of only one reason. If the fox knows she could use that fact to hold power over father.

“I have a condition.”

She raises her eyebrows curiously.

“What is your condition?”

“You cannot lie to me.”

She keeps herself carefully measured, stoic and calm. A continuous aura of serenity seemingly emits from her.

“I cannot lie, but I will adhere to your request.”

“Now that I have you in a deal. Who are you to my father?”

“A former acquaintance.”

“Did you kill my father?”

“No. I injured him, but he seemed mostly unfazed.”

She looks towards her nails as they extend a foot before my very eyes, razor sharp. She continues, likely choosing her next words carefully.

“I was linked to a parasitic Dryad, several of them in fact. They were attempting to take over my mind and I was delirious. The experience was… Something I never want to feel again. In the delirium I, according to your father, fought with him and drew blood.”

“Did you kill him?”

“No.”

“Do you intend me harm?”

“No. If I did I would’ve done so already, I had ample opportunity.”

She seems legitimate, It will have to do for now. She might be useful, I’ll likely need her to find father. Nothing else matters.

“Ask her who the woman in the picture is. She’ll answer Selesnya or perhaps “Mother”. Then wonder about the male side of the lineage…”

She gently looks over the ambulet, placing it back onto the other fox’s neck and under her hair.

“Did Yasgerouf tell you this directly?”

“I overhear quite a bit of Father’s musings. He’s not much of an internal thinker, when he’s alone he mumbles to himself quietly. I found out why he decided on this trip about halfway through when he was wondering how to tell me without distressing me.”

Her tails gently flick around her adoptive daughter, that being the only reasonable assumption.

“He helped her before, three years ago. He removed a curse, could he have known then?”

“Not if he was merely unraveling the curse. Father told me that I should never look or interact with another person’s threads unless I must. Its impolite.”

“How did he find out now?”

“I don’t know. He simply didn’t tell me, or anyone for that matter. For all his musings he knows how to keep his matters his own Yome.”

She nods, stating something along the lines of him being a very private man. Until she asks a poignant question.

“Who is he really?”

I find myself at a lack for words.

The obvious answer is that he’s my Papa, my caretaker, my teacher, my master and the one who took me in and gave me something when I had lost everything. But beyond his personal relationship to me… I don’t know anything about him. I know my Papa is a man of extremes, of cold and ruthlessness, of compassion and warmth. But of his past.

“The proper question Yome, is who Papa was.”

She smiles.

“And you need my help for this?”

“I need her blood, using it I can find my Father. I can pay.”

She gently taps the seat beside her, I move over to that seat and feel her warm tails wrap around me like a coat.

“Technically, he’s the father of my daughter. I think we can void the cost for this. I’m as curious as you are to learn about the more than four-hundred year old Crowe.”

“Yes.”

Wait…

More than four-hundred?

“How old is Kama?”

“Four-hundred and a couple years.”

You have got to be kidding me.

That explains him complaining about history textbooks.

>>394414

———————————————————-

I was getting the distinct feeling that Mei Ling disliked me. However… It seems to be slowly fading by the hours that we spend on Crowe’s ship. Several of my own people are accompanying us now, though with strict orders to stay upon the ship and not enter Crowe’s domain. Mei states that she can allow exactly two people on the island besides herself, anyone else requires Crowe’s direct permission. Though I cannot feel the permissions and protections “Weaved” into that island in the distance, I can only believe that they exist.

After all, I have not heard of a single person who has ever entered his villa door without an open invitation ever returning. Assuming they could even get within the island’s borders.

We feel no earthshaking voice as we enter the territories of the reeflands, as I acquired authorization for their territories quite some time ago. Still an hour away from that villa as I sit beside Kama and between Mei Ling. The two of them speak carefully to one another, my little Kama likes to eagerly ask what he’s like. Its cute little back and forth, she tries so hard to remain calm about the news that her father is likely alive. However we arrive none to soon before they’re done.

Arriving I find the massive structure standing before me, sensing several guards on the roof, within windows and spine tingling sensation of something else just below the ground here. Looking towards the entrance and in the windows I can see several faces looking out windows, all women. Many look confused, but none moreso than a beholder and an owl.

That Beholder, Clementine, quickly ushers us inside. I wonder looking around at the gothic decor, clearly spruced up after the fact by the touches of many women. Was… he the kind of man to have a harem?

The beholder slowly leans into me, so that Mei Ling cannot hear.

“We’re not concubines.”

“How did you…”

She simply smiles at me knowingly.

“It’s written on your face.”

She looks over toward Mei Ling, Gently reaching to her heat and stroking behind her ears.

“Now then, go and prepare the ritual. I’ll entertain Yome, don’t over exert yourself.”

After they leave, steal a glance at the beholder.

“I don’t remember telling you my name.”

“You didn't, we have to talk you and I. You want to find him as well don’t you? Our little Yasgerouf.”

“How do you know these things?”

“Yasgerouf was, and perhaps still is a very lonely man. As lonely as he was he was oft to accept company if it was offered. He has told me many things, as I have told him many things. We have shared nights together, after I spent a considerable amount of time coaxing.”

“So he told you about me?”

“Nope.”

I think she seeks to entertain herself more than me.

But I’ll need her opinions on this, if what she says is true then she’s a very good primary source. One would not expect this absolute feeling of oppressive magic power to come from her, from that smug smile.

>Nothing in particular to vote on. Will be next time however.

>>394415

>Clementine immediately begins teasing Yome

I would expect nothing less.

Looking forward to more!

>>394415

The fox lies impatiently on the lounging sofa, looking towards me curiously. It's written on her face what she wants me to say, what she wants to know. It's tempting to just lead her along carefully for at least an hour… But…

“I’ll be more straight with you Yome. He’s about to fall into old habits. For the past while he’s been idling at home because he believes he has a duty to us…”

She leans forward, an expectant look gleaming in her eyes

“Are you all married?”

“No, nothing like that. Technically most of us are under his employ, but he provides roof, food and home. We had nowhere to go and he offered protection. I accepted his offer.”

“A Beholder accepting a human mage’s protection? I thought your kind tended to imprison your mates.”

I giggle, I can’t quite hold it in. That’s funny coming from a nine-tail, jealous women that they are.

“Special exceptions can be made, such as when the Beholder owes a great debt. While normally I would love to pull him into a lair but to restrict the freedom of my saviour is…”

The fox leans back, looking towards the artistic representation of several spires rising over strange forests on the ceiling.

“Most unfair. So were you being hunted, or perhaps enslaved?”

“A coven of witches were attempting to use us for parts. He wiped out the coven, butchered the entire leading structure then left the remnants behind to scatter on the wind and spread terror. He has my loyalty, so if you desire someone to vouch for his character I am quite biased.”

“Hm, so you’re telling me that he’s not quite the same person as he was?”

“Now you’re getting it. Now, you must understand that Yazzy has not told anyone except myself, Yhammena and the Empress anything. Mei Ling knows nothing, and she should continue to know nothing.”

She frowns, then places her left hand to her chin.

“Is that healthy for the girl?”

I sigh.

“Would you like Yaereif to know every little thing you’ve ever done that was questionable? Every sin laid bare? All I’m asking is that you allow her to find out by herself.”

She considers her options, carefully. Its several minutes before she nods.

“Very well. I’ll keep quiet.”

“Then we’ve reached an understanding.”

I stretch myself right side up once again, floating in the air as the greater beings do. Over to the wall embroidered with another intricate design. However this design hides a handle just beneath an iron fitting worked into the design. A light pull upon the handle revealing a small bookcase. A door hiding a bookcase, rather than the other way around. Several book lie here, large tomes.

“Are those…”

“His memoirs? Yes, take some time to read them. After all, you have the right as Yaereif’s mother.”

“She has problems with that name.”

“I think she’ll take it a little differently when she finds her father.”

“Perhaps so.”

The fox slowly opens the first memoir and begins to read the stories.

—————————————————————————————————–

My father’s workshop is an ancient marvel of metallic instruments and bits of artistry unique to the art. The light is dynamic, changing with the time of day to alert him as to how long he works within its walls. One table has several prongs of iron, steel or silver and several blades of various sized to carve bones. Father says that while moulding the bones using magic is efficient, the best results come from carving after the fact. However I’m not here for any of these particular materials or tools.

I’m here for his salt, silver and that silver knife he was using to find Yaereif’s location. But as I’m rooting through the various tools I keep getting pestered by the fox in question.

“How will the ritual work?”

“I need some of your blood and then I can use that to locate Father. I’m looking for the long curved silver knife, not the iron ribber or the grey serrated crystal.”

She reaches over me, being significantly taller, reaching above the table’s rack as I hear a “click”. A small clamp atop the rack held the knife in question. She carefully hands it over to me. I can’t help but feel jealous at her. She’s very pretty, she’s just within that range of petite but also heavily womanly. Warm fluffy tails and pointed features with high cheekbones. She has my father’s eyes, a powerful and judgemental stare seems to perpetually emanate despite a smile. Something I would like to inherit, but obviously cannot.

“T-Thank you.”

“You’re very cute.”

She reaches down and fluffs my hair and rubs behind my ears. Its weird, a very similar feeling just like papa does it.

“I’ve always wanted a little sister, I thought I would never had the chance after I learned… Well that’s not important. If you need anything I’ll be there to help you.”

“Family…”

A family, a sibling.

Papa gave me these things when he extended his hand to me so many years ago. I lost my mother, my birth father likely abandoned us or died in the wilds of the world “Adventuring”. But now I have a sister. As my father would say, treat people with respect until they treat you without. So of course I give her a hug, nuzzling my head into her chest.

“There there, I know its hard with him being missing, but we’ll find him. Let’s start the ritual… How much blood do you need?”

I look up to her, stepping back and brandish the knife.

“Just enough to cover the blade, it's very sharp and we just need to purify it beforehand.”

I rise a very small slight waft of corrosion along the blade, causes it to become a fully clean, dead blade. Small bits of sand fall upon the floor, the remains of any uncleanliness removed. It is roughly twenty minutes to prepare the circle, the bonemeal, the salt and silver and the focus. I need to reference one of the several journals that papa has prepared to me for my study. Each of these contains many methods of safe practice, as father says I’m to be careful. I’ve tried this same ritual numerous times, only to find no threads linked to mine.

However this time I have a thread in hand after four hours of concentration. I know where he is, and he’s safe. He’s moving quickly. However, he’s not using the sygian rivers, hes fully within the realm of the living. I’m unsure how he could manage this speed, no mere bird or griffon could fly like this and he’s on ground level, something I can tell from my connection.

Something is strange here.

—

Vote:

The pursuit.

>We should take our time, wait until he stops moving so we are prepared

>On the other hand, time is of the essence. Something is not right here.

>>395574

We know he’s safe, so let’s wait until he stops. Then we’ll be able to catch up to him. My first guess is he’s with some kind of wurm given that he’s on the ground yet moving so quickly. Or possibly a mage of some sort.

>>395574

>We should take our time, wait until he stops moving so we are prepared

Agreeing with >>395589. He would likely already be dead if it were one of his enemies that found him. And as much as we want to find him, it would be safer to wait until he stops moving. That will give us better information to prepare for the trip to find him.

Besides, I think there is a good chance that those who rescued him were allies of the women whose lives he spared when he destroyed the Dryads. So it may very well be his compassion that saved him while he was lying defenseless.

BTW, what happened to our runic wolf-girl, Kala? Did she return home with Mei and crew?

>>395574

As I read these memoirs I slowly get more and more furious. From childhood to adult it has nearly every memory and thought he’s ever had, but likely through a rose tinted gaze…

But if what I read here is a best possible view then I cannot imagine the whole truth of the matters described within these pages. When I spoke with him, I could feel his care for his master. The Inquisitorial Empress Yatrae Reistragoayt Melgorale, I had constructed small things in my head about the man near the start of this tale about a boy and his master. A cute little story that was shattered within minutes. A small bit of context found its way into his story, mainly that Yatrae, or the first section of an Arrmagite’s title is not their name, last or first. It simply dictates class.

Yasgerouf simply means “Hand of”, to be used in “Yasgerouf Reistragoayt”. That is to say, for how glamorous it appears to be on the surface it really means “Slave”.

Reistragoayt was an animal, something to be put down for their lack of restraint. Practises such as the ones I read have been done before in other places, but not with this level or efficiency or cruelty. Patterns emerge in his behavior as it slowly becomes more uniform and forced, he repeatedly calls his former way as inefficient and naive when he was simply a child.

“the fifth day of fall marked my twenty seventh failure during my apprenticeship towards my great master. And so, another scar upon my body burnt down to my bone with corrosion. It will likely never heal to remind me to try harder in the future. It still burnt even nearly a year later, I was certain that I had let down my master greatly that day.”

“No matter how hard I tried I felt like it was never enough. I slept barely four hours a day studying into the long nights as the forest around us developed frost upon their leaves and tropical foliage. It never came easy, I am told that I am no prodigy but that my master had great hopes for me, and that she would continue to motivate me so that I could be of use to her.”

Clementine stares into me, its unsettling how her expectant yet pained eyes seems to understand my feelings exactly.

“She turned a young boy into an attack dog.”

She shakes her head.

“A dog has some sense of agency, some individuality or acts in a small degree of self interest. No, she turned him into a cudgel. A “thing to use”. Zeal, faith, love, hatred and alienation make for a very loyal weapon.”

“Clementine tell me the truth, how much actual “will” does.. He have.”

I can’t really bring myself to say that phrase “Yasgerouf”. To know that I called him merely a slave several times feels wrong. It is one thing to kill a man, quite another to force them to live for you.

“If it makes you feel better I call him Yazzy for the same reason.”

“Answer the question.”

She looks towards the floor, a sad smile.

“No need to be so angry. To answer it simply, next to none. He acts even today on the small remnants of his master standing orders given to him nearly four hundred years prior. Only in the past year has he shown any sense of self, something he would be tortured for normally.”

He’s too dangerous to let roam the world, I can only imagine what could happen if the wrong person managed to somehow reassign his loyalties. He, in this wandering state is far too easy to manipulate. I could do it with some very minor glamour, a small dash of love and he would easily mistake it for a new master… After four hundred years of being alone, vulnerable and masterless.

“Assuming the worst has occurred and he’s being converted, how much damage could he do?”

I ask this, but I know just what he could be capable of. I can only imagine a spell of the magnitude he wielded in the forest outside the master’s domain was instead aimed towards a country’s breadbasket… or a capital.

“Magic is merely as simple as applying one’s force of will. Necromancy is the application of one’s self over others, superiority.”

“Would that not weaken his magic? He has little sense of self.”

“You would think that, wouldn’t you? It’s not so simple. Devotion, Faith, Zeal, blind obedience toward one single being. A Single creature that only he and he alone follows, something that every other thing acts against. A thing that when compared is superior to every other being in the world, no matter how divine or demonic. A creature that Yasgerouf is second too, and the exarch of its will.”

“So you mean…”

“His master sent him to die four hundred years ago, because she was too afraid of what she created. The moment he pledges himself as Yasgerouf once again, that nameless forest will look vibrant compared to the enemies of his new master.”

—

>>397504

It's obvious to me that Clementine knew I was there, listening to them. However she kept talking like she wanted me to know. Disturbingly I have a desire to read those memoirs, despite what they seems to contain.

However I think I’ll ask the man himself when this is done with.

I could do nothing but sit back and be quiet in the master’s domain. I’m weak, pitifully so, a butcher without a knife. I couldn’t protect the one who held my head, who gave me a home and comfort in my time of need. I could only secure his daughter’s safety by my passivity. I still wonder if I should’ve butchered those men, innocent soldiers or not. They were obeying a fool, but I couldn’t take the risk.

I did what he asked, but was the the right thing to do?

If I was beside him during his time of trouble could I have prevented him from disappearing? Or from Clementine’s hinting… being taken?

What can I do to bring him back?

As I thought, the target dummy I was striking has been broken into fourteen pieces, each limb at the joints and then the head and torso. Another strike to its chest and it is launched into the warehouse walls, crumpling like a human’s would. Even with my strength it's never enough, like my master said I’m pitifully weak compared to my former brethren. Always the runt.

Was it like that for him I wonder?

“You seem distressed?”

I calm myself from the sudden appearance of that wight. She’s changed her appearance from long ago, now a petite woman with long white hair and green eyes. She has always made me feel uneasy, like Clementine its like she’s always watching. With Clementine its a mix of dread and joy at making you uncomfortable, but with Quill its her idle curiosity and wonderment at the most simple of actions or interactions.

“Yeah, I suppose I am.”

“Why? Telling me may help you understand better if you’re unsure.”

There’s no real harm in it I suppose. She watches me, standing perfectly still, unbreathing and unmoving. Her eyes do not shudder nor quiver in the slightest bit. I move to the side and sit against the wall.

“I don’t understand why he keeps me around.”

“You manage the warehouse and help with supply receiving.”

“That’s not my talent, I’m an assassin, I have told him as much. Instead he teaches me mathematics, advanced literature and has me learn to cook.”

“Is that such a bad thing?”

“Well… no…”

“You seem to misunderstand something important.”

She sits behind me, carefully placing an arm over my shoulder. The other reaches awkwardly onto my head, ruffling my hair and ears.

“Why do you think he would have need of another weapon?”

“That’s my point!”

“I shall rephrase, you being here is enough for him to appreciate you, enough that he would invest time and effort to try and make you happy. He likes you because you speak with him, because you are kind to him and because you desire to help him. He needs you because you’re the kind of person, deep down inside, that would criticize herself for not being able to help more.”

I look over to Quill, astonished. She stares back unfazed and smiling.

“You always pull yourself down, but I think it's about time someone pulled you up.”

I feel a light tug under my sash I use to keep my breasts in line.

“Where…”

“We’re going to Clementine, She may be strange but her loyalty to the Father is second to none.”

“Are you sure that’s wise?”

“I have had enough of her secrecy. We both know something more is going on here. I’m going to find out what it is and bring him back. And you’re going to help me.

—————————————————————————————————————

He’s still unconscious.

I reach toward the mask upon his face, broken as it is. Forming a claw from my index finger I slowly work around the mask. It's easier to break the fragile bits then cut only the absolute thinnest layer of skin underneath to finally see the man underneath.

Its him.

The man who killed me. Or is man too unfair a term for what he was or is? If that’s the case then he’s the weapon who finished the job. I can forgive him, if none of the others. After all, how can a weapon have the intent to kill if it's just the unwitting tool of its true master? It's not his fault, he didn’t understand anything, the poor creature.

The white wolves are stable, curled around him and unwilling to leave. Injured though they are they seem to desire him. They will make him at ease as I perform my work, he will thank me for what I plan to do, for what I need him for. Our goals are one and the same, we both desire to put down the ones who tried to kill us. It took so long to find him after so long, he got out early and I admit my mistake being unable to find him. A fragment of myself found him a few years ago, with some odd memories blocked. But it doesn’t matter now, I have him.

And I’ll help him see the truth.

>>397506

>No vote this time

>>397513

Very interesting update! Though some of these revelations about Yasgerouf are disturbing, they explain his character. Thanks for bringing Kala back into the story too.

>>397506

So exists survived the battle? That’s interesting. But I’m curious now. If yasgerouf practically had all his individuality stripped from him how did he fall in love and form friendships before his imprisonment and release? He likely wasn’t rebelling against his training/brainwashing given the devotion he still holds for his master. Was his indoctrination simply imperfect?part of me wants to say someone has been screwing with peoples memories, but that would be on such a scale nothing short of Deus ex Machina would be able to do it

>>397520

My thoughts on this:

I'm not sure if it's as much his personality as his purpose in life that was exploited. He has always suppressed his emotions, in order to be a more effective tools for his master. But he never at any point completely banished his emotions permanently, except when he does literally that with magic (to temporarily keep his personality from preventing him from taking decisive action, like when he murders the witches). He's has always appeared to have a strong sense of JUSTICE, a desire to protect the weak, and a soft spot for children. He's not a machine. He was just heavily brainwashed into thinking his entire purpose in life was to please his master. So it's not that shocking that he could at some point find friends and love, although his trust would have been very slow to come.

>>397506

He’s stopped and been idle for at least an hour, he’s decently far, deep within the eyeless desert. According to the maps he’s within an area labeled as the “Atrayan Sanctuary”. The exactness of this ritual is disturbing to say the least. I know where Papa is, his relation in terms of distance in every sense and using that I can pinpoint him upon a map. I can sense his physical state of being, slowly recovering. However I cannot sense his mind…

It seems that every magic has its limitations.

From upstairs, I can hear some arguing. Not specifics, just some things about “We’re involved”. My sister seems to hear them as well, judging from her expression she might be hearing more than I.

“What are they saying?”

“Kala seems to be demanding information from the beholder…”

“Clementine”

“Right, Clementine… Wait, why is a beholder named Clementine?”

“Is that odd?”

“More than a little, but we’re off topic, let’s see what is going on upstairs.”

“Can you hear them?”

“They closed a door, its heavily muted now.”

“Then they’re in the lounge.”

Father spent little time decorating the villa, though his preference for gothic architecture is very apparent among the designs. We spent much more time making it look less dreary. Paintings of the ocean, flowering the thorned vine motifs on the walls, changing the railings, window coverings and adding flower baskets to the outside. Now it looks like a happy home, if large.

I can hear Yhammena from within the lounge, the door closed.

“…That’s what the prophecy says.”

“If it comes to pass then we might not get him back. How accurate is this particular one?”

“It’s fifty fifty, the timeline is distorted. Things with significant power are becoming involved is what that signifies.”

I push open the door.

Nearly everyone is in this room, staring at me.

“Now what’s this about Father not coming back?”

The older fox. Yome, is the first to break the silence.

“If this is going to work Mei Ling, you’re going to have to trust me. It may be the best chance we have.”

Yhammena looks tired, bag underneath her eyes. I can see her energies, her magic has been stretched thin. Looking toward possible futures with her eyes. I look towards her, asking.

“Am I able to know?”

“You cannot. If you do it will change.”

“Yhammena, you need to get some rest, using your eyes is far too strenuous in your current state, I’ll find Father and bring him back, trust me.”

She smiles, leaning back in her chair. “I Believe that you will.”

“Yome, sister, if Father doesn’t move within a day we will start our way to him. As fast as we can by air. Yhammena you’re staying home, So are you Clementine…”

Clementine smirks a toothy grin, floating in the air laying upon her side.

“No I’m not, little girl.”

“But…”

“Shhh, I’m coming, trust in me.”

“Fine, Quill, I might need your help.”

She bows, but states carefully

“No, Quill will stay at home to keep everything ready for the master. Take Kala instead.”

“But…”

Kala furrows her brow before nodding.

Quill smiles, her still features showing a doll-like beauty.

“Clementine will be sufficient, she is stronger than I.”

Kala moves to kneel, but I stop her. She has no need to do something like that to degrade herself when she’s already done so much.

“All you need to do Kala, is be prepared. We need to be ready.”

I turn to leave, trusting in them, in Yome, my sister, Kala, Yhammena, Clementine, Quill, Minerva, Haku, Pan… and most importantly in myself.

My sister looks to me, wrapping a tail around my shoulder and pulling me into a warm hug. After I’m out of the room, I can’t stop crying. I just want my Papa. I just want him back. After several minutes I find myself calm and collected.

“Thank you Kama.”

“Mei Ling, where are we?”

“Father’s office.”

I kneel down underneath the desk, tapping the wall along a small design similar to a constellation. After several gentle movements it depresses into the wall with a “Click”. The tile in front of the bed pops upward and slides to the side revealing a ladder down into the dark depths.

“What is…”

“Father’s real workshop. Inside he has armour for me he was holding for my birthday. I’m going to bond with it. We may need the help.”

“Why did you prevent Yhammenna from coming then?”

“Two reasons. The first is she is important here, well spoken and could explain everything to the Empress if a request comes in…”

“Makes sense, but her prophecies…”

“Secondly, I forgot that you can’t quite see what I do. How her life-force is intermingled.”

“Is she sick?”

“In a sense, if you consider the side effects of early-stage pregnancy. Your other sister, soon to be.”

“Yasgerouf, three days later”

I’m alive.

It was an uncertain thing, if left alone I would survive but if a wild animal found me I doubt it would be a graceful end. It was fortunate… or so I thought.

I have no idea where I am. My vision is blurry and unfocused, eye damage is one of the most annoying things to fix. I would like to see what is brushing up against me. All around me, below me and… on top of me. I feel movement like breathing, but I also feel excessive fluff and of forms of softness around me. Something warm rubs itself along my face, I should be saying someone as I feel a nibble on my ear.

A huff from whatever this monster is starts a cascade of four more each from a different direction around me.

But that’s not what worries me. I remember the things I’ve felt, pain, fear. but I’m seeing it from another perspective. From the outside, I see myself being scarred and beaten for every failure no matter the cause. Feared by the people I supposedly served, kept under the thumb of my master with no chance for freedom. Why does it look so different than my perspective? What’s wrong with me? I’ve wasted my life for a master who would never love me.

A hand ruffles my head.

“My dear, dear Yasgerouf.”

“Who are you and what have you done to me?”

“I just showed you what I saw from your own memories. I merely removed your lenses to reveal the truth.”

“But why?”

“You killed me, but then brought me back.”

“I can’t see.”

I hear rustling around me as legs and arms move around me.

“That’s a shame, you would like what you see. Just look through those other eyes of yours.”

I do and find myself unable to see the one speaking.

“Where…”

The hand in my hair ruffles it as I feel myself pulled towards the woman’s chest.

“Right here. It's all right, you don’t have to feel bad about it, It's not your fault.”

“Exists…”

Exists was a half-formless being, on tangentially existing within our own world. A “Great Evil” they said, the damage she caused could not be ignored. The lives lost were innumerable and unforgivable, however in reality it was like a child’s tantrum. The power of a minor god in the hands of a being alive for only months. We only learned of what she really was a few weeks before the confrontation. Now, in my mind I have no doubt that this is why we split, the cowards, the traitors mixed with those far too noble to do what had to be done.

I thought I had to go through with it. That it was necessary… But was it really?

Could I have talked to her? Reasoned with her? Maybe, but I would not and could not even think of trying. Even with this new perspective I don't know what to think anymore. So I remain silent. I can even comprehend what she must look like now, but how is she alive? Did she say I brought her back? How?

“You reached out for anything nearby, any corpse to bring back. You reached ME, I then simply brought myself back from that reanimated state.”

“You couldn’t even speak…”

“You formed a mental bond with me, I saw everything you have through your life. A rude awakening to sentience. But that’s fine, it was enough to know who hurt me. You can make it up to me, all you need to do is let me heal you, recover and help me finish everything. They hurt you, they hurt me. Let’s finish this together, I need you.”

She feels like I do. But…

“Who is left?”

“Only one, Uryd the Wanderer.”

“He was always a survivor. Fitting that he’s the last.”

“Will you help me willingly? I’ll forgive everything, I’ll love you. You brought me back and gave me another chance and I’m going to do the same for you.”

I…

The Final Stretch:

>Revenge.

>It’s not worth it now.

>>399136

Yazzy didn't come this far to be a quitter. Time to finish the job, so picking revenge

>>399136

There’s still a lot we don’t know. Let’s agree to hunt down this last guy until we can find out if exists is telling the truth. Sheit? might be lying to get us to help her

>>399136

>Revenge!

Lets do it. Then we can finally move on and find some peace. Peace with our daughters, and all our new companions.

>>399151

>>399136

I feel like I should point out that we absolutely shouldn't trust Exists at face value. She might be trying to manipulate us towards her own ends. They just happen to coincide with our own for the time being. I suppose we should let her heal us, at least. But we should be very wary of her intentions.

>>399136

Definitely going for revenge, time to finish the job.

>>399136

I'm up for it, but i'm not giving Exists an inch in the matter. We Kill Uryd and nobody else unless they violate our NAP. It's not going to be that easy of course, but what choice do we have at the moment?

>>399136

Are you still alive, writefag? It's been around a month since your last post. Please finish the story!

I figure you'll check the thread, considering you're alive. Hope you're doing alright OP. And to anyone else who checks on this

>>399136

Yasgerouf

… Should see this through.

It's not fair for her to experience what I have. I don’t think that anyone should. It was not my intention to bring her back, I just reached out for anything nearby, bodies of former friends and all. I had no idea that it would even have the slightest chance of bringing her back.

I should try to bring her some measure of peace.

“I’ll help you. But have you taken thought about what happens after?”

“I have, a great deal in fact. Isn’t it obvious?”

Two warm hands place themselves over my eyes. No pain, no discomfort, just an odd feeling of peace. Slowly they’re removed and my eyes open. The dim candlelight pierces my flesh searing me with its existence. Vision, light, a connection to the world around me, and a connection to her. I try to lift my good arm and find it being firmly held by white-tan ball of fluff. A cacophony of huffs and rumbles as I feel arms adjusted around me and tails wrapped around my shoulders. The fur on a single tail is long enough that it nearly consumes my entire shoulder. The four white wolves are alive.

“A smile, I suppose it's something you’ve always wanted.”

The one gripping my arm adjusts herself to a sitting position, looming over me. Leaning down she nuzzles against my face.

“I was only able to heal a single one… did you bring them all back to life?”

“They are a single entity, linked together for their entire existence. You were the one who made the choice to save them, not me. I merely accelerated the process.”

I gently rub along her hair, page white and like silk. The wolves pull closer to one another, leaving me less space as the nuzzling one finds her way on top of me pulling for a cuddle.

“Exists” hand moves my head against my will to each side looking carefully.

“Now, you asked what to do after? It's simple, no-one will understand you like me. And no-one has pitied me more than you. I will have you be mine forevermore, I’ll hold you tight and never let you go. Like she around you now, damaged as she is… we will be a family.”

“I already have…”

“You are confused I’m sure, hurt, uncertain, conflicted and betrayed. Trust me, I’ll make you understand. Once our business is concluded, creatures like us are relics of a colder time. We can’t adapt or change, we were trained to be flawed, ridgid and made to fail by those we trusted. It will just happen again and again, do you really think that any who was not just like us would accept us? The things we’ve done because we were simply told? They may smile and nod, but that is because those people you’ve collected owe you. In their heart of hearts they would treat you differently, like a beast, a psychopath who could strike at any time. Inevitably they would hate you. Let me show you everything… You’ll soon see.”

Her forehead touches mine, every time I blink she looks different, a different species, a different form, sometimes only her eyes or hair color change but other times the change is as drastic as from elf to leviathan. My mind burns as I see things that I don’t understand. The symbols arrange themselves into indescribable shapes, no… structures into formations like architecture and designs of artifice. Primitive yet more powerful and effective at everything they do, everything they convey.

As I’m forced to watch, I start to understand what it means, what she meant. All four hundred years I missed, I see what could have been, from every decision I could have made from even far before. Every life, every death, every failure and victory thousands of times over. Families from other realities, people important to me who have not even been borne into this reality.

I see it through her eyes and see her possible fates… But why are the endings so similar? Why is it all so similar?

The rush of information scalds my mind as I lose consciousness…

>>403280

Yaereif

All I can feel is a crushing uncertainty on the future of things. A distinct feeling of there being something for me. But something I cannot know until I move forward and grasp it within my own hands. Just like so many years ago when I left the clan.

The yearning for the man, for my father never left me. From storied whispers I would hear from my mother I believed that he was a giant of a man, a fearsome presence that could place his boot upon the neck of even the greatest of mankind. She would never tell me why she did what she did, even as she was confined to the cave of reflection. Even as I tore off part of her face she would say nothing, likely out of shame.

Now that has been turned on its head. I’m meeting all these people and I’ve seen my own father face to face but we didn’t even recognise one another. He saved my life and acted as if it was the most minor thing he had to do that day. I have a sister, a part of me feels as if I was replaced. Its irrational and untrue, Its likely he never knew I existed. However, if he never knew I existed then he couldn’t have abandoned me. He came for me, so he loves me. I think that’s what’s important.

Many things are to be prepared for this, Yet there is not much I can do on my own.

The hidden storage facility lies open before us, the darkness is foreboding. There are no sources of natural light but my eyes can adapt to true darkness.

“Don’t use or do anything that can create light inside of here It will raise an alarm. I assume you can see in the dark?”

I look down to the small kitty, patting her head. She leans into my hand ever so slightly. Before she pulls away to descend down the ladder. She does so with little to no flair or grace, a grip upon the rims to a slide down towards the depths below. I follow, seeing faces carved into the walls as we pass by.

While I can see in the dark, specific details such as colour are far too difficult as the shades of grey overtake nearly everything. At least, that is how it should be in any normal environment. Here however, the very walls are alive and singing with very subtle magic. The magic I feel is different from the villa, this feels like it's watching and moving with me. The hall seemingly glows within my vision. The end of the short hall is a massive stone door with no adornment. My sister walks up to it and gently taps on its center.

“Father told me that if someone were to force this door they would have their soul torn from their body. Nobody expects such a thing to open with a simple tap.”

“He obviously trusts you a great deal.”

“He started telling me things when he found out I would learn regardless.”

The door grinds open along the floor revealing my father’s real workshop.

“Be careful when you want to touch something, most of the things in here could kill you easily.”

The workshop is a massive open space, a dome cave with many pickmarks along the sides. Several platforms carved from stone rise from the ground each with piles of bones or brackish metal or an oddly shaped pitch-coloured brittle looking stone. The farther corners have much larger piles of resources, I wonder how many creature’s bones in total in morbid curiosity. However two things appear to catch Mei Ling’s attention.

One is a stand holding a crimson robe, with another stand holding a set of metal armour. Bladed gauntlets with claws, fitted back piece with armour for the tails. Nearly a full set of plate of living steel. She moves and touches it, the metal turns to liquid and seemingly consumes her. I move to try and remove her from the mass but I see her hand sticking you waving a finger at me. The armour forms around her, hiding even her face except for two eye holes.

Her voice echos hollowly from the masked featureless helmet.

“This is much heavier than I expected. Now then… I can’t reach the hood.”

I help her get properly dressed, the armour managed to put itself on under her dress. The metal is warm to the touch. Hopefully this will keep her safe.

“Now we just need to awaken the mummified eagle and we can get father back within our hands.”

———————————————————————————-

No vote this time

I do plan to finish this story, I did have to take a hiatus but I have returned for the foreseeable future.

>>403281

welcome back

>>403281

Welcome back. Great to see it being finished.

———————————————————————————-

The cliffs rise around me, battered and broken by the quakes and the weather rushing from the lake of aeons. The wind continues to blow even now after all these centuries in the exact same way. Even as the old monastery now lies in ruin. I feel a deep kinship with these ruins, broken bits of the past, a thing that has outlived its original purpose like many in this day and age.

The wanderer’s ancient home. Should he not be here… I will never find him again. The last card in my deck while I have an empty hand.

There lies a single living person here, alone. Within the last standing bastion of this ruin gone to time. I sense it, I recognise it. He is also a relic of era’s long since past. Alone I approach, no minions, no creations nor machinations. I move forward to the one I hate the most in this world, my animosity boiling. The anticipation burning within me.

I pass through the open stone door to see a decrepit old man looking at me with a single eye. A cane carved from a branch, ratty clothes and wrinkles deeper than indentations within the bark of an ancient tree.

He is calm, as if resigned to his fate. The brief feeling of one who has felt despair emits from his every orifice. Yet despite this he is even and flat, not even in a stance to fight.

“I knew you would come one day.”

“Yet you did not run.”

“I accept my fate. I am old, I have lived, loved, hated and been hated. But it has been a life I stole. A life that wasn’t mine to take.”

I gesture towards his living conditions, as I remove my mask.

“Is this the life you chose to spend your time upon?”

He seems hesitant, wondering why I still speak.

“It t’was a dream for a time. But the monastery was betrayed from within.”

“Ironic. Don’t you find it strange?”

“What do you mean?”

“Let’s talk.”

He nearly falls over, unable to comprehend what has transpired. To be sure, I would like to kill him. But I have plans.

I sit down and look to him as he follows suit. He remains more silent than even the dead as I speak.

“Each and every one of you betrayers lived ironic lives and died ironic deaths.”

“Did you not orchestrate them?”

“No, and neither did their ultimate killer, who killed only five, Who I know very well. Though I appreciate cruel irony, I do not waste time. The holy warrior Halt lost her powers and was shunned by the very society she betrayed us to maintain her reputation within, ultimately ending her own life in shame. The witch Glint became overcome with her lust for power until it became the very thing that led me to her. Seven the black was betrayed and left to die at the hands of a single boar by his friend who poisoned him. Feina the Great Arcanist and four others died by my curse after fighting it for several years, the revelation of that fact that this curse was mine causing the half centuries war, the thing they existed to prevent… Need I go on?”

“Then…”

“We are being manipulated. It’s all a game, a thing to pass time, a revenge story with an aesop. A beginning, middle and end of which we are approaching rapidly.”

“All of this… all of the things we did!”

“Now I want you to listen to me. I’m going to end this story and you’re going to die… But there will be a sudden twist. And for that I require your assistance.”

He looks around him, at his own hands and then to me. A fire once extinguished now stoked a thousand times over.

“What must I do to earn forgiveness?”

Perfect.

>>406007

I'm pretty curious what he could actually do at this point, if that one dude is the last betrayer left. Aside from his ultimate revenge, what desires could Yasgerouf still have? Now that Yasgerouf's eyes have been opened, I wonder if he would want to confront his old master (assuming she is still alive and hidden away somewhere)?

>>405942

Anyone else kinda confused by what’s going on? Like I love the story, but it updates so rarely that I kinda forgot what has happened so far. Specifically the bit about Yazzy’s curse and the ultimate killer and the half centuries war. I’ll probably reread everything after it’s fully done but for now I’m curious about what these mean.

>>406073

>Specifically the bit about Yazzy’s curse and the ultimate killer and the half centuries war

I have some ideas on these, but I don't know for certain that they are correct.

>Yazzy’s curse

I assume it is a curse he cast on his betrayers before he was sealed away, while he was fighting them. They were physically unable to kill him, because he could nearly endlessly spontaneously heal himself. So they were forced to seal him away. But not without first being cursed by him.

>ultimate killer

That would probably be our new "friend", Exists. She was getting her own revenge, on behalf of herself and Yasgerouf.

>half centuries war

Once Yasgerouf was removed, it led to a power balance in his old kingdom. They went to war and eventually lost.

>>406095

>Once Yasgerouf was removed, it led to a power balance in his old kingdom.

A big shift in the balance of power, I meant.

>>390617

I archived the page.

Current snapshot here:

https://web.archive.org/web/20190805025620/https://8ch.net/monster/res/390617.html