Theatrics

The next morning, Noah paid a visit to Elisandra. Due to the time zone difference, the sun was lower when he arrived, but Elisandra was already up and sorting through documents at an ornately decorated desk. Lour was there with her, along with several elven maids.

"Noah!" she said with a smile as he appeared.

"Hello. I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"Nothing as important as you." She then turned to Lour. "Let's pick this up later."

"Understood, Your Majesty," he said with a bow. He then turned to Noah and bowed once more. "Lord Noah."

"Chancellor Lour," Noah replied in kind.

The elven maids tried to keep their eyes downcast as professional etiquette, but curiosity forced them to sneak peeks. Their interest was to be expected. Not only was he the father of the unborn heir to Sylphtoria, but he was the only human known to have impregnated an elf. As a species with a low birthrate, these maidens found that quite intriguing.

"And you can take the maids with you," Elisandra then added, as if reading their minds. Once they left, she got out of her chair to greet him, though there was some difficulty.

"Careful, don't strain yourself," said Noah.

"You sound just like Lour. If it were up to him, those maids would be carrying me in a sedan chair throughout the palace and would do everything for me, as if I was paralyzed from the neck down. I'm glad you're here. I find myself in the mood to go for a walk."

"That sounds lovely," Noah replied.

Carrying the harkonen sphere, Elisandra left the palace, bringing Noah with her. Her guards and maids followed from a distance, wanting to give the two lovers some time to themselves. They walked the bridges that stretched between the trees, made of interwoven branches, moving down level by level into the city. Though he was only a phantom, Noad could hear the birds and smell the abundance of plant life. It was a beautiful day in Sylphtoria, and the citizens were out and about for their daily routines. Those they passed by would stop and bow. "Your Majesty. Aegasviel," they'd say.

"The elves really do love to call me that, don't they?" Noah mused.

"Can you blame them? Under the light of your star, every night is a new religious experience. Many have even come to worship you."

"I'd prefer they didn't. I've been worshipped before in past lives, and it rarely ends well. I simply want their respect, not their idolization."

"Well, you'll have to come back here for real and do something about it. Royalty aside, our son is already being revered as a holy being, blessed by both the spirits and Lumendori. I've even been asked if intimacy at the Lunar Temple would allow other couples to have children."

"That's actually what I've come to talk to you about. Not about children, but the Lunar Temple. Specifically, the mirror."

"Go on."

"I told you last summer about the difficulties I've had in finding the core rune of my magic. Well, I've figured it out, at least partially. I've found that if I look into a similar mirror while my magic is active, I can almost see the rune. However, the mirror I created is not nearly strong enough. I need to use the mirror at the Lunar Temple on the night of a full moon, when the Moon Tears are fresh."

"Hmmm, that does make sense. Yes, I will have someone bring the orb to the temple so you can use the mirror. The next full moon is in a few days."

"Thank you. It's strange; I feel genuine excitement when I think about finally discovering my true magic. I've only had it for a few years, but it feels like I've been waiting my whole life to find out the truth. It's been so long since my heart raced in anticipation like this."

"Not even for me?"

"I am excited about you and Rain, but it's a different kind of excitement. This almost makes me feel... young."

"I'm glad. That smile of yours is making me fall in love with you all over again. So, you made a similar mirror in Vandheim?"

"I managed to buy some good holy silver and glass from someone, but the moon tears looked older than the actual store we found them in."

"How are other things going in Vandheim?"

"Not great. The king is in complete denial about the return of the Profane, and his advisor is enabling him. Everyone in the city is scared and too afraid to admit it."

"I wish I could say I was surprised. No one likes an inconvenient fact."

"You'd be amazed at how much time and energy I've spent trying to combat that laziness. I've seen people get all worked up and throw hissy fits just because someone tried to warn them of diseases, enemies, health hazards, existential threats, what have you. They'll accuse you of lying, of trying to rob them or quash their freedom, all because it's easier to deflect and accuse rather than accept their fragile mortality. Tell them that fire is dangerous, and they'll stick their hand in the flames just to try to prove they're strong enough not to be burned, all because they can't stand being told what to do and what they're vulnerable against."

"I believe it. Elves can be surprisingly foolish and stubborn. You think it's hard convincing humans and dwarves of danger? Try changing the mind of someone who has held their beliefs for centuries. Once they believe a lie, no amount of evidence will get them to admit they're wrong. Lour and I once had a disagreement about the name of a bird that would frequent my window. I knew its true name, but he had been raised to believe it was something different. I pulled out a book about birds and proved I was right, and though he relented, I could see it in his eyes that he thought the book was wrong."

"Reminds me of my daughter. Her name was Erica, the most skeptical brat I'd ever raised. She went through a phase where she questioned EVERYTHING, and not in a good way. Try to tell her something, and she'd always argue, second-guess, and doubt, and for no reason at all. She just assumed everyone on Earth was lying to her, because God forbid someone knew something she didn't. She improved as she grew up, but it remained a bad habit of hers.

I mean, skepticism is good; it kept her from falling for misinformation and schemes. Better to have a kid that's naturally skeptical than naturally gullible, but it got insanely frustrating that she couldn't take even the smallest thing on faith and leave it at that. And almost every time someone asked her to do something, she'd have to know why. Imagine if you saw something heavy swinging towards you like a log on a rope, and you dropped to the ground and yelled at her, "Duck!" She'd just stand there, asking, "What for?" and then get killed. I was her father, and she didn't believe a word that came out of my mouth. Hopefully, Rain will be less obnoxious."

Elisandra laughed. "I have so many nightmares of Rain being, well, a nightmare. It's gotten to the point where I'm certain our son is either going to be the most polite, noble, endearing prince the world has ever seen, or the rudest little pissant to ever live. There is no in between."

"So, you're saying he'll either take after you or me."

They arrived at a small museum down in the lower levels. Sylphtoria was filled to the brim with art, but this particular museum was recently created and rarely empty of visitors. Inside, numerous paintings hung, chronicling the reclaiming of Kisara Island. When he and Valia returned after failing to bring back Valon, Noah showed all of the pictures on his phone to a local painter for duplication. There were pictures of the local wildlife, the ancient city that once stood, and the elves from Noah's scouting team, taken, of course, with Noah's trained artistic skill for variables like proper lighting and distance.

With his sharp elven eyes, the painter blew up each picture from the small screen onto vast sheets of canvas. The smallest details on the tiniest pixels were transferred with crystal clarity. The museum drew spectators from all throughout Sylphtoria, amazed by both the subject of the paintings and the unbelievable realism. The exhibit was not without some sorrow, revealing a once-vibrant elven society reduced to ruins, but it also lifted the hearts of many, showing how Kisara Island, and the brave elves who helped Noah reclaim it, had been immortalized.

Noah and Elisandra walked by the paintings, with Noah retelling details of their capture. Elisandra had heard it all before, but every time Noah paused, she'd hold onto his arm, insisting he continue while smiling and laughing. They stopped before the two paintings that drew the most attention from the public. The first was a picture Noah had taken at the Kisara palace in the great hall. All of the elves and knights of Uther had been brought together for a group photo. They had awkward smiles, as to be expected.

"I swear, I must have explained the process half a dozen times, but the knights still didn't get it. I told them I wanted to take a picture of them, they complained about how many hours it would take to paint them, and once it was done, they were shocked."

"The elves seem equally bewildered. Orville looks like he's completely lost," Elisandra giggled.

"I've manned plenty of expeditions and journeys in past lives, and my teams and I would always take a picture like this, be at a mountain summit, the bottom of the ocean, or even other planets. So many great minds and explorers, seeking truth in the unknown."

"Courage and curiosity; you'll find them in every lifetime, I imagine."

Then they turned to the other painting. "And here's your favorite. I still remember how hard you laughed when I first showed it to you." It was the picture Noah took of Aithorn, soaked in mud and fish guts.

"By the gods, I wish I could have been there to see it for real. He looks so fed up with everything. Look at his face. You can tell he swallowed something that he really didn't want to."

"If I had shown him this picture, he would have never allowed me to take it back. He would have smashed my phone to pieces before letting the world see him with fish intestines hanging around his neck."

"You'd be surprised by how many women ogle this painting. He's had many admirers throughout his life, but for some reason, they now find Leuca especially handsome when covered in filth. They say he looks rugged and tough. 'I want him to dirty my sheets,' they'd whisper."

Noah and Elisandra laughed and continued through the museum.

----------

"So, who would you rather do? An elf that's been dead for a few hours, or a female ogre with big tits that's in heat?" Daniel asked, walking down the street with Foley and Seraph.

"There is no right answer to that question," said Seraph with a grimace.

"I know there isn't. The question is, which terrible answer will you resign yourself to? It's a game from my world."

"I can't. I just can't."

"I bet that's because you got the princess on your mind. You trying to score with your dead brother's girl? That's low."

"You don't know anything. Besides, you're talking about having sex with dead people, which is so much worse."

"I'll take the ogre," said Foley. "I need someone who will throw that ass back, even if it's an ogre. You know she'll be grateful. Ok, I got one. A centaur like Shannon, but she'd remain in her centaur form the whole time, or a sexy Profane, but she'll try to kill you the second you drop your guard? Whoever you pick, you have to do all the foreplay. That means taking the road down south."

"Oof," Daniel grunted. "I don't know how well I'd be able to perform with the threat--and certainty--of death, but I worry that if I get behind the centaur girl, she might accidentally kick me in the nuts. Plus... horse puss, man. I just can't do it. I'll go with the Profane, and just take off as soon as I nut. I won't even grab my clothes. I'll just run for life with my dick swinging."

"I'll take the Profane as well. I'm pretty sure I'll be able to handle myself if she turns violent. Plus, she's probably a demon in bed," said Seraph.

"Good choice. Seraph, you're up."

"Ok, uh... an average-looking human woman, but she'll spread horrible rumors about you after, or a gorgeous woman, but with an equally attractive husband, and he's into some freaky stuff?"

"Well, when I consider all of the gross, shameful things I've done to support my drug habit... I'm going with the rumors bitch, because I can just make up rumors about her too, and I am too sober for the married couple."

"Same, rumors bitch. I'll just give her a fake name. I'm a dwarf. What's she going to do, pick me out of a crowd of other dwarves? I know how you people look at us."

They then halted their conversation as they approached a produce stand.

"I haven't seen you around before," the little old lady said. "What can I get you?"

"All this looks good. Can I try one of those carrots?" Seraph asked. She passed him one, and he bit into it. "Oh, that is really sweet. We'll take a bag of those."

"You have good taste. They're freshly picked."

"I haven't had carrots in a while. Many of the farms surrounding Colbrand were destroyed with the city, so the pickings were slim," he replied.

The old woman stopped. "Colbrand was destroyed? How? When?"

"You didn't hear? It happened last month," said Daniel. "The Profane attacked with a huge army--twice, actually. We fended them off the first time, but they leveled the entire city the second time."

"I have friends living in Colbrand. How can I believe this is true?"

"You really didn't know about the Profane coming back?" Foley asked.

"Well, someone said a man was shouting it somewhere in the city, but no. No, no, I refuse to believe it. You three best hush up and stop spreading your nonsense before you end up banished."

"It's only a matter of time before they strike here. Hopefully, someone in charge will do something before it's too late," said Seraph. He paid for the carrots, and they departed, leaving the woman to fret.

"They really like banishing people, don't they?" Daniel muttered as they continued through the street. "That reminds me, Foley; what's the story of your family? How did your clan get the boot?"

"Back in the day, the Foley clan was highly respected as a family of craftsmen, with many members being regarded as the greatest of their era. At the time, it was led by five sons: a leather worker, a wood worker, a blacksmith, a runesmith, and a jeweler. They wanted to work together on what was to be the finest piece ever produced by our family, and settled on a shield.

The leather worker made the straps and surface layering, coating it with wyvern hide. The woodworker shaped the body out of the pieces of sverna and other magical trees. The blacksmith fortified the rim with a carefully crafted mixture of alloys, giving it an edge that would make it safe for the user to grasp, yet strong enough to strike down foes without breaking or chipping against enemy strikes. The jeweler carved and set in a unique magical gem that would boost the powers of both the shield and the user. The runesmith imbued it with brilliant magic.

It was a masterpiece of magical craftsmanship, and the five brothers loved it so much that they refused to ever let it be used, for despite its strength, they considered it too beautiful to risk being damaged, and decided it would forever hang over the Foley hearth. However, one of the princes of Duravound found out about the shield and became obsessed with it, wanting it for himself. He approached the brothers with offers of wealth and power, but the brothers refused, so the prince resorted to threats.

The brothers realized he wasn't going to give up, so they came up with a plan. They asked the prince for an exorbitant amount of money, something that would take time for him to gather, while they crafted a duplicate shield. Unfortunately, they had already used up their best materials and tried to make do with what they could get on short notice. The prince was an obnoxious shit-stain, but he had a good eye, and his obsession led him to discover it was a lesser fake. Since they tried to swindle the prince out of such a large amount of money, and break a devulist agreement, the whole clan was banished, and the shield was confiscated as added punishment."

"That's rough."

"That's part of the reason why I came. I want to see if I can get it back. I bet if I had it during the fighting tournament, I could have outlasted Saimallah."

"Considering how stubborn the people here are, I suggest you start praying," said Seraph.

These warnings about the Profane were happening throughout the city. Noah and his friends were moving about in groups of three, acting like regular tourists as they explored Duravound. Whoever they talked to, and no matter what they spoke about, they'd try to steer the conversation towards the Profane. Over in the next district, Cyrilo, Alexis, and Sophia had just stepped out of a bakery when they noticed a work site down the street. An obelisk was being erected, one of dozens throughout the city.

"Excuse me, is there a story about these pillars? Are they monuments or something?" Alexis asked an idle worker.

"Apparently, it's all part of a magical experiment that the king has approved," the dwarf grunted. "Once all the obelisks are erect, they'll gather ambient mana from all around us, and we'll be able to harness that power for all manner of magical technology."

"Like a barrier or weapon?"

"As if I knew."

"It would be good for this city to have one. With the Profane on the move, this city will need all the protection it can get."

"Pfft. Nothing but lies," the dwarf scoffed.

As Alexis spread the message to all that would hear, Sophia stepped forward to examine the runes carved into the side of the tower.

"What is it?" Cyrilo asked.

"From what I can tell, he's correct about them drawing power from the environment, but this formula is very unusual."

"Unusual, how?"

"It's using many more runes than it actually needs, like answering a question with forty words when only four are needed. Spells are like contracts, but this one is stuffed with so much jargon and fluff that it's near impossible to read. Why would they intentionally make the spell that much harder to balance?"

"It's very common for things like this. Spellcasters like to keep their runic formulas secret, much like chefs hiding their prized recipes from the competition. All of that jargon and fluff is to make sure that no one can copy the formula and put it to work elsewhere. Noah and I saw them earlier during our shopping trip."

They continued on with their mission, but not too far off, Noah, Valia, and Shannon were having the worst luck. Onlookers gawked as they were forced out of a tavern, with everything from steins to food being thrown at them by the indignant customers and staff. They had tried to tell stories about the Profane in Handent and the fall of Welindar, but all it did was infuriate those in denial, while those who may have believed them were too afraid to speak up. That was the third tavern they had been booted from. It was beginning to look like the unspoken fear of the Profane was not as prevalent as they had hoped.

At midday, they all gathered in front of the inn to discuss their progress.

"We convinced some kids before their parents dragged them away, but the rest cursed us and all of our descendants," said Seraph.

"At least someone listened to you," said Cyrilo. "We were accused of hysteria and trying to start a panic."

"We had mugs thrown at us as we were kicked out of a tavern. I have to go inside and wash the ale out of my hair," said Valia.

"This isn't looking good. It seems like the public is as bullheaded as the king," Noah muttered.

"How in the world are we supposed to convince people of the truth when they wager everything on their lies and denial?" Alexis asked.

"By lying to them," Noah said, suddenly struck by inspiration. Before he could elaborate, Valia, Shannon, and Cyrilo all perked up with their pointed ears twitching.

"We have company," said Valia.

A large group of soldiers arrived, led by Ragar--or Sados, as Noah knew him. The troops with him were enchanted with magical armor and weapons, and exuded a powerful aura. It would be a fair guess that they were the best in the kingdom, and their presence could only mean one thing.

"Wandering Spirit, you and your friends are under arrest."

"On what grounds?" Noah asked.

"Murder. The owners of the Gilded Jewelry Box were found slain earlier this morning, and witnesses confirm you got into a heated argument with them because they expelled you and your group yesterday."

"It was not a heated argument. I offered to pay for damages incurred by your men, and they refused. My friends and I were kicked out, but we simply moved to another inn. I had no quarrel with the owners of the Gilded Jewelry Box, nor any reason to cause them harm."

"Noah was with us all night last night," said Valia, stepping forward.

"It's true. He never left our side," Shannon added.

"Of course, you would defend him, but that makes you all guilty as collaborators. Your little stunt earlier caused the king to hesitate in throwing the book at you, Wandering Spirit, but word of your murders has convinced him that you cannot be allowed to roam free. You are a criminal, an agitator, and a liar. Call out your little fart squirrel if you wish, but nothing will protect you and your friends from justice. Men, advance."

The soldiers stepped forward, but Noah held up his hand. "Wait," he said, speaking through his clone self while, in his invisible state, he removed his storage ring and swallowed it. This situation could actually be just what he needed. "I stand by my innocence and the innocence of my friends, and if you try to apprehend us on false charges, we will defend ourselves. However, if it will put your mind at ease as well as your king, I will surrender myself into your custody until the truth comes to light and I am exonerated. Take me and let my friends go. The alternative will be far worse than some skunk spray."

This was not what Ragar had been expecting. Like before, he simply wanted to pit Noah and his friends against the soldiers of Duravound, ruining any chance of the king listening to them and driving them out of the city. However, that plan would likely fail to kill Noah, and if he escaped, he would continue to be a thorn in the Profane's side. However, locking him up in a cell was the next best thing. He would be removed from the board, and his friends, missing their precious leader, would be at a great disadvantage when the time came. All he had to do was keep Noah locked up until Zyrga's remains arrived.

"Very well. However, you will hand over all of your weapons, plus your knight ring. I'm well aware of the enchantment it holds. We'll also take any other magical items you possess."

"If it's all the same to you, I'll leave them with my friends, but you can search me to confirm."

"Noah, don't do this," said Valia, grabbing his arm as he unbelted his sword.

"Valia, trust me on this. You'll see me soon," he replied.

She stared into his eyes and let go. "I trust you."

"My Lord!" Shannon exclaimed as she wrapped her arms around him, trying to keep him from leaving.

"Shannon, stay with Valia. Trust me."

Valia managed to pry Shannon off him, but it was clear that she wasn't the only one distraught.

"This isn't right. It's just like with Lucius," Alexis cursed with her hands balled tightly into fists.

Noah passed his weapons and his knight ring to Shannon with the dwarves watching, but it was the unenchanted ring he received as a bronze-rank. He also emptied his pockets and handed over any additional weapons he was carrying. He was locked in irons and led away, having just enough time to look back and give everyone a nod.

"Tell me something, Sados," Noah said as he walked down the streets in chains, turned into a spectacle to show the might of the dwarven empire. "Did you kill those innkeepers yourself or have someone else do it for you? I'm curious as to how much effort you put into this farce. If you're going to imprison me on trumped-up charges, I'll be greatly disappointed if all this was done half-assed."

In response, one of the soldiers behind him kicked him in the back of the knee, knocking him down.

"I'd watch my mouth if I were you, outsider," Ragar growled. "You're not in Uther anymore. This is the world of the dwarves."

Noah was marched through the city, with one of the soldiers loudly announcing his crime so that everyone would know what he did. The crowds booed and jeered him, but abstained from throwing anything, simply because they didn't want to risk hitting one of the soldiers. It didn't bother Noah, as this was simply another experience he had gone through before. He was brought to the prison district, where magic was used to extend the walkways along the cavern walls.

"Most of these cells are empty, but don't worry. You'll have company," Ragar taunted. Noah was brought up to his cell and shoved inside, with his shackles removed. "Enjoy the rest of your stay in Duravound," the cruel dwarf then added before the door was shut.

The slamming of a cell door; yet another sound Noah was painfully used to. His room was stark, with nothing but a hole in the floor to use as a latrine and some old straw to sleep on. The only source of light came from outside his cell, with only the dimmest sliver of illumination passing through the small barred window of the door, leaving him in darkness.

"So, I finally have someone to talk to. What are you in for?" a voice outside asked.

Noah stepped up to the door and crouched down by the dwarf-height window. "They say I killed two people. What about you?"

"Disturbing the peace. I tried to warn everyone about the Profane, and they locked me up."

"Same for me. That's why they say I murdered two people. You must be the joker that Princess Cynatas told me about, who made a big show of trying to warn everyone."

"What a second, Noah?!" Roc exclaimed.

"Hey, Roc."

"I've never been so happy to hear your voice."

"Yeah. I was wondering why you sounded so familiar."

"You said you spoke with Cynatas?"

"Did somebody say my name?" the princess asked, appearing outside of Noah's cell as if materializing out of thin air.

"Princess, how nice to see you again," said Noah.

"Sados was making such a big deal about arresting some killer, so I had to see what all of the fuss was about."

"Well, it's not true. I've been framed."

"I assumed as much. Sados has a bad air around him. I can feel it. It seems like there is always someone in the royal court with a noxious aura. Still, I have the Wandering Spirit and my one-armed songbird all to myself. It's the start of a neat little collection. Though it will be awkward for my love and I to flirt with each other with someone right next door. Roc has told me a great deal about you. Some good, some bad."

"Well, you can believe the bad," Noah replied.

"Noah, please tell me you have a way to get us out of here. I've been stuck in this cell for weeks. They can detect vibrations and damage. You try to tunnel out or bust the door open, and the guards will end up having to scrape you off the walls. The lock is similarly rigged, so don't bother trying to pick it."

"I have a similar plan, one to get myself out of here and then prove your innocence so they'll let you out."

"Proving my innocence doesn't mean much at the moment. I don't care what it takes to get out of this pit so long it happens as soon as physically possible."

"Look, I promise I'll get you out of here, but you have to trust me. Once I slip out, I'll leave a doppelganger here to make it seem like I'm still in my cell, and I'll need you to convince the guards it's still me in here. This only works if Sados and the king think I'm locked up. It's the perfect alibi."

"What works? What are you going to do?"

"You were locked up because the king refused to believe your warning of the Profane. I'm going to convince him and everyone else. Give me a day and I'll have you out."

"You'd better be sure about this."

"I am. Cynatas, will you help me?"

"What do you need me to do?"

An angry voice then echoed from below. "Hey! Get down from there!"

"I've been spotted. I need to leave," she said.

"No! Stay right where you are. I need them to extend the walkways and come up here. Tell them I'm sick, very sick. Convince them to open the cell door."

"I understand." She then turned and hollered to the guards below. "Guards! Your prisoner is sick! Something's horribly wrong!"

Noah could hear the walkways extending and went to work. He jammed his finger down his throat and triggered his gag reflex, forcing himself to vomit up his ring. After cleaning it off, he put it on and conjured one of his harkonen orbs, stashing it in the pile of hay with his ring. He then lied down on the ground and began to spasm, pretending to have a seizure. The pool of vomit next to his face would make it all the more convincing.

Cynatas backed away as the guards arrived and saw him on the floor, quickly opening the door to come in and assist. However, the dwarves had no idea what a seizure was, so they foolishly tried to pin him down to stop his convulsing, and one of them even stuck the sheath of his knife in Noah's mouth out of fear he'd swallow his tongue. He also docked points when they tried to give him water.

"Hey! What's happening?!" Roc shouted, trying to feign concern.

Noah soon halted his performance, pretending to recover from the seizure. "I'm all right. I'm all right," he said shakily.

"What in the world was that?!" one of the dwarves barked.

"I've suffered from episodes like that since I was a child. Don't worry about me."

The guards scoffed in annoyance and turned to leave. As they did so, Noah rendered himself invisible and summoned his clone to take his place. He retrieved his ring and followed the guards out of the cell, narrowly avoiding getting caught in the door. They then turned to Cynatas, who was standing outside.

"And you! You know better than to come here! You may be royalty in name, but you are not allowed to speak to the prisoners! Be gone and don't come back!" one of them chided.

"We'll see about that," she scoffed before leaping off the walkway.

Noah followed the guards down to the bottom level while letting his clone disappear. He then found an isolated spot to hide away and conjured his main harkonen gem, using it to resummon his clone back in his cell through the orb he left behind, then transferred his consciousness to it.

"Roc, can you hear me?"

"Noah? I guess you weren't able to slip out after all. So much for that plan."

"No, I succeeded. I'm talking to you through the doppelganger I left behind. My real body is down below. I'm going to pose my doppelganger to make it look like I'm meditating. When the guards deliver our food, tell them that I put myself in a meditative trance to pass the time and won't answer them or eat. Though I'm speaking to you now, I won't know what happens in this cell unless I divert my consciousness here. When my attention is elsewhere, we'll have to hope no one bothers to check on me."

"I hope you know what you're doing."

"Don't worry. You'll be out of here soon."

While remaining invisible, Noah returned to the inn, where everyone was trying to figure out their next move.

"We have to break him out," said Alexis, slamming her hand on the table in the room where they were speaking. "Right now, he's a rat in a cage, vulnerable to anything and everything. They could poison his food, suffocate him with smoke, or just aim an arrow through the bars and shoot him dead."

"Noah told me to trust him, so I'm going to," Valia calmly replied. "He didn't tell us to break him out or help him, only that he would see us soon."

"He may have meant that he would see us when we save him. Maybe that's why he let himself get taken in exchange for letting us walk free: he trusted us to get him out." Seraph argued. "We've tried playing nice, tried being polite and playing by their rules. Maybe now it's time for a show of force to teach them who they're messing with."

"That would just further alienate the dwarves. They would never trust us again," said Cyrilo.

"She's right," said Sophia. "If we get violent, it'll just prove that we're nothing more than outside agitators trying to cause trouble." Though she tried to sound brave, it was a struggle to hide the fear and worry churning in her stomach.

"I'm with Valia on this," Daniel added. "If anyone can pull himself out of a jam like this, it's Noah. If we try to interfere, we'd probably just get in the way and end up in jail like him."

"I think we're all a little too riled up for making decisions. I suggest we drink on it and sleep on it," said Foley.

Shannon had yet to speak, not uttering a single word since Noah was taken, simply staring off into space with a despondent look.

"These are all wonderful suggestions," Noah said as he released his invisibility, appearing beside the table and causing everyone to jump in shock.

"Noah!" his friends exclaimed. Seeing her beloved lord, Shannon lit up and tackled him, nearly knocking him to the ground as she held him for dear life.

"Honestly, I'm gone for an hour and some of you already want to start a bloody revolution, while others look like you're at a funeral. Do you guys really have so little faith in me?"

"How did you get out?" Valia asked.

"I pretended I was sick, lured the guards up to check on me, and then slipped out through the open door while leaving a copy of myself behind. It should buy us some time before I'm discovered."

"But what happens then? Once they find out you've escaped, they're going to come for you even harder," Alexis asked. "We'll all end up on wanted posters."

"I have a plan to convince everyone about the Profane. Once we prove the threat is real, they'll have no reason to be suspicious of us, and I'm sure the king will listen to reason about my murder accusation. While I was locked up, I also discovered that Roc is in the cell next to mine."

"Roc is here?" Daniel asked.

"That's right. He was the one who first tried to warn the city of the Profane and was arrested for it. I promised him he would be released after I convinced everyone of the Profane. It turns out that he and Cynatas have been whispering sweet nothings through the bars of his cell."

Hearing about Roc and Cynatas, Seraph bit his lip and looked away.

"So how are we going to convince everyone?" Cyrilo asked.

"We'll first need to make some preparations, and then we'll execute my plan tomorrow. I want to give Sados and the king some time to solidify the belief that I'm no longer a concern. As for the method, well, it's simple. Like I was saying before I was arrested, we're going to lie to everyone."

The next day, a loud gong echoed through Duravound, causing everyone to perk their heads up in surprise. It was the ringing of the Bell of Zhad Dür, shaking the entire mountain. It was normally only used ceremoniously, with everyone knowing ahead of time, but to ring without warning like this meant something terrible was going on. In the palace, King Geord and all of his subjects felt the same fear and confusion as the public. Even Ragar was bewildered by the ringing of the bell. Geord had given no order, and striking it without his permission was a grave offense. Of course, that was unless someone was trying to warn the city of a disaster.

"Rally the troops! The first legion will gather outside of the city gates in preparation for attack! The second legion will escort the citizens to the gathering area and form a perimeter!" Geord barked. He then pointed to Captain Rodham. "Captain, take a contingent of men to the bell and apprehend whoever is ringing it! I want to know the moment you find out who is doing this and why!"

Again and again, the bell was struck, faster than normal. It raised everyone's anxiety further, quickening their steps towards the communal gathering place. But while the bell was ahead of them, it felt like the deep, thunder-like booming was coming from behind them, like the aligned steps of an approaching army. Men, women, and children; they all felt some horrible doom breathing on the backs of their necks as they ran for their lives.

Upon reaching the corridors leading to the gathering area, they couldn't help but push and shove their way through, with the bell now being struck even faster, just like their racing hearts. When they finally reached the vast amphitheater, they gave sighs of relief, only to notice that their breath was fogging before their faces. It was late summer outside, but why was it so dreadfully cold in the chamber? All of the moisture in the air from the steam system was turning into a layer of ice covering the ground and stone seats.

King Geord, standing atop the wall separating the palace and the amphitheater, looked out across the sea of scared faces, trying to figure out what was going on. Ragar was beside him, equally bewildered.

"Your Majesty!"

Geord looked down, seeing a male human and a female dark elf he did not recognize.

"I'm Prince Seraph Albion of Uther, and this is Lady Valia Zodiac. What's going on? Did you order this?"

"You are not permitted to speak before the king!" Ragar snapped.

"No! Bring them up!" Geord then countered.

Seraph and Valia were brought up atop the wall to face the king. "Do either of you know what's going on?" he asked.

"No. We thought you would," said Valia.

"We got separated from our friends in the chaos. Sir Noah was arrested yesterday. If something is coming, then he's not safe in a cell," Seraph added.

"Your murderer friend isn't going anywhere!" Ragar argued.

"Your Majesty!" Captain Rodham shouted as he approached. "Your Majesty, there is no one ringing the bell. It's doing it on its own."

"How is that possible?" Geord asked.

"I have no idea, but we can't stop it. We tried holding on to subdue the vibrations, but we could still feel it strike again and again, like we were clinging to the heart of a colossal monster."

"Oh gods," said Valia. "The Profane. They're here."

"Lies, all of it! Rodham, get these two out of here!" shouted Ragar.

He knew none of his underlings were causing this commotion, but as for who the culprit was, he had no idea. He was certain that Noah was still locked up, with the guards confirming he remained in his cell. But who else could be behind it? Finally, the bell went silent, but what should have brought relief instead terrified the people further. Why had it stopped ringing? Was something about to happen? The cold and silence felt like the dirt of a frozen grave. At least with the noise eliminated, Geord could finally address the public.

"People! Citizens of Duravound! Hear me!" His voice echoed throughout the chamber, drawing everyone's attention and calming their nerves to a slight extent. "The Bell of Zhad Dür was not struck by myself or anyone following my orders. It seems we have all fallen victim to someone's idea of a cruel prank. For now, let us all just remain calm and take a seat. My men will scour the city, looking for the one responsible and ensuring there is no danger. Do not give in to fear, for that is simply what this trickster wants. What is important is that we all...."

Geord trailed off, scrunching his nose and shaking his head, with everyone in the chamber soon doing the same. There was a foul smell in the air, the horrid stink of rotting flesh. At the same time, an unusual sound echoed through the chamber. It was some kind of continuous whine, like the ringing of tinnitus or the shrieking of metal grinding against metal. It wasn't loud, but it scratched on everyone's eardrums like a dirty fingernail, growing higher and faster seemingly without end, like the whistling of a tea kettle, raising everyone's anxiety even higher. With the smell of death and eerie whine, what calmness the king had given the people was now gone, erased by this assault on the senses.

Geord and the others then flinched as one of the braziers on the wall suddenly burst with a roaring crackle, the flames taking on a blue and violet color. The same happened to another brazier, and then a third, and so on, each signaled with an explosion before the flames changed hue. Everyone was starting to panic, and the king raised his hands.

"Everyone, please remain calm! Now is not the time for fear!"

Then, a dark voice echoed through the room. "We've moved past the time for simple fear. Now it's the time for terror."

Down below the wall, before the portcullis, a cloud of fog bloomed in a twisting torrent, then disappeared to reveal a demonic figure. He stood over six feet tall with cloven hooves and the head of a goat. He was covered in black fur and clothes with red eyes and a matching pentagram on his forehead. The citizens screamed in terror at the demon's sudden appearance, and he laughed in joy.

"Yes, that's it, that is the sound I live for. Your beautiful screams nourish me better than any feast. Greetings, people of Duravound. I am Diablos, here to deliver the good news. The world, as you know it, is at an end. Welcome to the world of the Profane!"

Everyone was left aghast at the announcement, as the nightmare they refused to acknowledge was now a reality. The only dwarf without fear was Ragar, but he was at a loss for words as to what was going on. There was no Profane by that name or appearance, at least as far as he knew, and he had given strict orders that none of them were to come near Duravound until the arrival of Zyrga's remains. Who was this idiot, blowing his cover and threatening his plans? He didn't sense any Profane energy from him, nor did he feel like a normal person either, yet both the smell and chill of death permeating the chamber gave credence to his unholy existence.

"Guards! Slay that abomination!" Geord shouted.

Soldiers with bows all took aim at Diablos and rained arrows down upon him, yet not a single wound was inflicted on the dark figure, passing through him as if he were made of nothing but air. Seeing that arrows wouldn't work, the soldiers charged with swords and spears, ready to take the monster's head. With a cruel laugh and little effort, he dodged their attacks and countered. He'd slash them with nothing but the claw on his index finger, and they'd collapse, many crying out in pain as they tried to cover their wounds.

"You really think such puny attacks will work on me?! King Geord, I am truly disappointed." Diablos turned and looked at him with sadistic eyes. "How tragic that the final king of Vandheim should be such a failure." His words were not lost on Geord, who tried to swallow the lump in his throat.

"Your Majesty, stay behind us," said Valia as she and Seraph stood to defend the king. "We'll try to keep you safe if he attacks, but to be honest, I don't know what chance we have against someone like him."

"Hear me and fear me, puny dwarves! This city, this nation, this entire planet, will soon experience a baptism of blood! The only question you should be asking yourselves is if you will be anointed, or be drained, so that you might be used to anoint others! Try to run, and you will die. Try to fight back, and you will die even faster. But for those of you who wish to live, those who crave power and dominance over the weak, I extend this invitation to you: join the Profane!

Embrace the dark sacrament and ascend to a higher level of being! Join us in conquering this land and plunging all of creation into darkness! I am here merely as a messenger, but the next Profane to arrive will be far less diplomatic. When he arrives, you can either be turned into one of us or turned inside out and put on display. Your time is short, so make your choice."

The demon then disappeared, and with it, the unnerving sounds and smells. The citizens were panicking, and Geord turned to Rodham. "Bring me the Wandering Spirit, now! The Profane have made their move!"

"Your Majesty, let's not be hasty! Surely this was some kind of deception!" Ragar argued.

"For the love of a Terranora, Sados! One more word out of you, and you'll take his place in prison!"

That said, Ragar was completely right. It was all just lies and theatrics. Noah, standing down below in his invisible state, having shed his demonic disguise, took off in a sprint towards the prison district. In his hand, he held a duplicate key to his cell, having swiped, copied, and returned the original after escaping. Once he reached the prison, he had to wait for Rodham and his troops to arrive and extend the walkway. He then raced ahead of them up to his cell, opening the door while using his illusion powers to make it appear closed, and sneaked back inside. Moments later, they arrived, finding Noah lying on the pile of straw.

"I was wondering what all that noise was. Let me guess? The Profane?"

"That's right. The king wants to speak with you immediately."

"Well, it's about damn time." Noah stepped out of his cell and stood beside Roc's. "But I'm not going anywhere without him. He tried to warn you first."

Rodham was in no place to argue, so he opened the door to Roc's cell. He staggered out and sighed in relief. "Thank you, Noah."

"Don't mention it. Let's go."

They followed Rodham through the panicking city and to the palace, where Geord was trying to restore order from his throne with Cynatas nearby. Ragar was also there, silently fuming. He could not explain it, but he knew Noah was responsible for the demonic stranger. That said, he had no way to prove it. Noah's friends were there, all trying to hide their smiles from the mission's success. When he saw Roc, Seraph averted his eyes. The last time they met, things didn't go well, and considering the smile on Cynata's face at Roc's arrival, it was unlikely to get better.

"King Geord, greetings. I am Sir Noah, knight of Uther and Sylphtorian lord. I suppose I should be angry and indignant over everything I've been put through, but I don't want to waste any more time."

"Watch your tongue in the presence of--" Geord silenced the angry guard's outburst.

"Sir-- No, Lord Noah, if I were to bow my head and apologize for your mistreatment, could we move beyond this?"

"Let's not forget the false murder charges that have been pinned on my friends and I. I don't know who killed those innkeepers, but someone in your court either jumped to conclusions after they died, or worse, killed them to frame us. I can take a wild guess as to who it was, and I'm sure you can as well. I expect you to take action and suitably purge them. Besides, it's not just me you should be apologizing to, but Roc. As I understand it, the beastman tribes of the Ashok Mountains have had a bad relationship with your kingdom for ages, yet he still went out of his way to try to warn your people of the imminent danger."

Geord lowered his head. "Roc, of the Ashok eagle tribe, I do humbly apologize for everything you've been put through. I was foolish to ignore your warning."

Roc didn't say anything, but simply turned to Noah and nodded.

"Now that that's out of the way, we can move on to business. Rodham got me up to speed as to this Diablos character's arrival. I can't say I've ever met him, but you should heed his warning. The Profane are massing in the northwest, having fully conquered Handent, and are using its population to bolster their ranks with corrupted beastmen. The city of Welindar has been rendered completely inhospitable, while Colbrand was recently leveled by a Profane attack a month ago. They're also probing the Anorvan Forest for weaknesses in the elven defense, and I, myself, saved the queen from an assassination attempt and averted a plague."

"What would you have us do? How do we stop this threat?"

"King Tarnas and Queen Elisandra want to stage a joint operation to purge Handent and exterminate the Profane. Handent is the largest of the four nations, but with the combination of men, elves, and dwarves attacking from the south, west, and east, the chance remains to surround and flank the Profane menace. The Profane are vulnerable to holy magic and sunlight, though their weakest members can move about in the daytime.

While he was running Utheric operations in Welindar, Prince Lupin utilized weapons blessed with a holy enchantment. Though no substitute for genuine paladins, it made a considerable difference, and I've been experimenting on various drugs and poisons that will work on them. Now, with the proper time and resources, we can help prepare your soldiers for what is to come. I can whip up a decent starting arsenal, and my friends and I will train your men on Profane strengths and weaknesses. We've tangled with them, before and we know what to expect.

You also need to get in contact with King Tarnas and Queen Elisandra to begin sharing plans and information with them. I can help you do that in real time, so you don't have to rely on messenger birds. At the moment, however, I think what's most pressing for you is calming the public and getting the heads of the various clans and other nobles within Vandheim on the same page. While you do that, Roc and I are going to get some decent food and enjoy our freedom."

"I understand. You and your friend need to rest, and I have a lot of work to do. Prince Seraph, what say you? I feel our introduction was rushed, and I owe you an apology as well for not properly greeting you."

"All I have to say is that Duravound is a marvelous city, and I'm honored to experience it and stand before its new king. You probably expect more from a prince, but unfortunately, I'm not much of a diplomat. My brother was better suited for politics, while my only skill is combat. I'm not even the leader of this group. As you've no doubt realized, Sir Noah has been given the reins. Both my nation and Sylphtoria have entrusted our survival to him and his wisdom. For all intents and purposes, you can consider him the War Chief of our alliance against the Profane."

Hearing Seraph's glowing recommendation, Noah couldn't help but mentally chuckle at the situation. Looking at his friends, it was clear from their expressions that they shared Seraph's beliefs. When he first arrived to this world, his main priority was gathering information and sating his curiosity as to how it might interest and entertain him. When he realized that magic could help him break his curse, he promised himself that he would pursue it with reckless drive, ignoring or discarding anything that could get in the way. However, as he had learned time and time again across the multiverse, life was rarely so simple.

His goal to remain untethered to any nation, unbound by responsibility or allegiance, devoting everything to his cause, had come undone, and he now found himself bearing the weight of yet another planet on his shoulders. If he had to choose between breaking his curse and saving the world from certain doom, he'd choose his curse in a heartbeat and leave the world to its bloody fate. Still, until such a choice was actually placed before him, it seemed he once more had to bear the responsibility of savior.

Noah wasn't the only one mulling over Seraph's words. Ragar was also looking at the situation in a new light. He, the leader of the Profane, was standing before the War Chief of the anti-Profane alliance, a stranger no one in this world had ever heard of until recently, but had now embedded himself in the heart of the political scene faster than Ragar ever could. True, it was Adwith Tarnas who had vanquished Scyler and won the battle for Colbrand, but Ragar now understood why Tysinger was so wary of the Wandering Spirit and considered him an even greater threat. After all, he was certain that the appearance of "Diablos" was somehow Noah's doing.

"Yes, I understand," said Geord. "Lord Noah, I look forward to working with you. Let us reconvene tomorrow morning."

"That would be perfect. We're staying at the Platinum Inn. You can send a messenger when you're ready for us. Until then, Your Majesty."

Noah and his friends turned to leave, except for Foley, who loudly cleared his throat, only to immediately regret it when all eyes fell on him. Still, he had to finish what he started.

"I uh... Your Majesty, I am Sir James Foley of Uther. My... uh... apologies if this is not the best timing. I came here with Noah and the others to help with the Profane issue, but I also have a personal reason to be here." He then pointed to the wall, where a magnificent shield hung over a pair of crossed halberds. "I'm part of the Foley clan, which was banished a few generations ago over a disagreement regarding that shield, the shield my ancestors made. On behalf of my family, I uh... what's the word... petition! With all due respect, and on behalf of my family, I petition you to return the Foley shield to our family after it was unjustly taken."

The king seemed bewildered by the request and the audacity of the stranger who made it. "Excuse me, who are you?"

"Just... uh... something to think about. Sorry, Your Majesty. I... uh... I'll just go."

Foley hurried out of the throne room as though expecting to be chased by guards, leaving Noah and his friends, as well as every dwarf in the room, to shake their heads. The group left, and as soon as they were gone, Geord sighted, then turned to Ragar. "Moving on. Is there something you wish to tell me, Sados?"

"Your Majesty?"

"You told me that the Wandering Spirit killed the innkeepers of the Gilded Jewelry Box. At best, you were rash and inept. At worst, you were downright deceitful. When I think back to how much you assured me that the Profane were not something to worry about, it paints a very worrying picture as to your reliability. Frankly, I'm starting to wonder why my predecessor kept you around."

"Your Majesty, I assure you, I have never spoken a single lie within these hallowed walls. I have only ever offered you the truth as I believed it, as well as my undying loyalty to this country. Whatever fate may have befallen the innkeepers, I was certain that Sir Noah was responsible for it. I was wrong about him and the Profane, and for that, I sincerely apologize and acknowledge my mistake. I was blinded by the precariousness of our situation and outside threats, and I--"

"Enough. I don't want to see your face around here anytime soon."

"Are you banishing me, My Lord?"

"In light of your years of service, I won't go that far. However, don't come back here until you have something to prove your worth."

"Yes, Your Majesty," Ragar growled. He turned around and walked away, but stopped after a few steps, struck with an idea. Perhaps this cloud could have a silver lining after all. "Before I go, Your Majesty, one last word of advice--a down payment to prove my worth, if you will. If the Profane truly are going to sweep through our nation as the Wandering Spirit says, then Duravound will be the safest place for its citizens.

However Diablos got in, we need only bolster our defenses and shore up our security so that it can't happen again. Duravound can be a sanctuary, a fortress to house the displaced peoples of Vandheim. With enough men and supplies, our entire nation can withstand any siege here. I suggest making an evacuation plan, so that when the Profane do make their move against us, everyone in danger can be moved to the safety of Duravound."

"Hmmm, I'll consider it. You are dismissed."

Ragar departed, cursing under his breath. This was exactly what he was afraid of happening. The Wandering Spirit showed up, and within days, he was out of a job that took decades to fill with his Sados persona. All that work down the drain. At the very least, he hadn't been outed as a Profane, so he still had some wiggle room. Ensuring Zyrga's remains would arrive and be properly taken care of would be difficult, and he didn't have nearly enough time to prepare a new persona to run things through proper legal channels. He'd have to do everything under the table.

This late in the game, timing and luck were everything. That said, he still had almost a month until the bones would arrive and the ritual would be performed. Perhaps now would be a good time to visit Andromeda and attend her gathering, as well as give Geord a good reason to consider his evacuation idea. In a way, this disaster could be an opportunity in disguise.

As Ragar pondered the next stage of his plan, Noah and his friends left the palace and walked through the streets of Duravound.

"Thank you again for getting me out of there," said Roc.

"Don't mention it."

"I take it being locked up is a lot less fun without me to keep you company," Foley chortled.

Roc held out his hand, and Cynatas grasped it, putting a warm smile on his face. "I had company. After the thin gruel they fed me, I'm hungry enough to eat a whole cow. But before we get some food, there is something I desperately need to do."

"I figured you'd say that. We're heading there now," said Noah.

They reached the city gates and stepped out into the sun. Roc sighed in bliss and soaked up the sunlight, thinking he'd never see it again. He assumed his beastman form, extending his wings.

"I don't suppose you want to ride on my back?" he said to Cynatas.

"Just fly as you usually do. I'm fine like this. Trust me," she replied, squeezing his hand.

Roc crouched down and then launched himself into the air with a mighty beat of his wings. One might think the sudden force would have ripped off Cynatas's arm, or at least dislocated her shoulder, but with her powers rendering her weightless, she felt nothing, and the way the air magically circled around her made her immune to wind resistance. Roc flew circles in the sky overhead, holding her hand, with Cynatas gliding through the air with even less effort than he was, and her dress fluttering like a flag. There was no drag or weight unbalancing him, just the softness of her hand.

Even from a distance, it was clear on Roc's face how much he had missed the open sky. Back at the academy, he had gone a whole year with barely any chances to fly, but even then, he still had the sun in the wind. In the darkness of Duravound's prison, he had been cut off from everything, and Cynatas became the sun and the wind for him. Down below, Sophia and Shannon were fawning at the sight.

"That is just the sweetest thing I've ever seen!" said Sophia with her hands on her cheeks.

"I feel so warm and fuzzy," Shannon added.

Looking over, Noah noticed the way Seraph was looking at them. "You better not let Roc catch you eyeing his woman like that."

Seraph directed his eyes to the ground. "The moment we met, it was like I had been struck through the heart by an arrow. That smile, those eyes, her personality... I had never felt that way about someone before. When she asked me if I was here to marry her in Lupin's place, I was hoping she was serious. Had Valia not said something, I would have agreed right then and there. To see her with Roc, of all people...."

"Really pours fuel on the fire, doesn't it? You two have been feuding since the academy."

"It's not a feud, because I feel no hatred for him, though I doubt he would say the same about me. I'll admit he made himself into my rival, but if anything, I respect him, having come so far and become so strong after losing his arm. During the tournament, every time I got knocked down, I remembered how he would keep getting back up, and told myself that if he could do it, so could I.

An average paladin vs an average beastman warrior, neither possessing any exceptional powers. With both his arms, we should have been equal in strength, but with only one, he demolished me. If he was fully restored as I have been, I can't help but wonder if he would beat me again. What if he's still stronger? I don't begrudge him for winning her heart, for being with her. God knows I don't deserve her."

He then began to slowly walk away, but from his gait, it seemed like he was actually trying to lead Noah out of earshot of the others before he could continue speaking. Noah followed him, and when they were a safe distance, they stopped, and Noah spread some of his mana to soundproof their conversation.

"You were saying?"

"Noah, I've done a lot of bad things, bad things to women. That was back when Galvin was still poisoning my mind with his evil, but the sin remains mine. I look at Cynatas and remember the people I've hurt. I look at her face, and I can see it twisted in the same pain and anguish that I've inflicted on other women, all because I thought I was above things like compassion and morality. By what right do I have to be with her, or any woman for that matter, after what I've done? By what right do I have to love and be loved? I'm forever unworthy.

I've resigned myself to bearing my guilt for the rest of my life, to devoting my days to repentance and making up for what I've done. I thought I was prepared for the pain, used to how much it hurts, but I never thought it would hurt like this. I guess the punishment fits the crime, doesn't it?"

"I'm in no place to say what you do or don't deserve. If you knew the kind of things I've done in the past, your head would spin. Have I been punished for my sins or rewarded for my virtues? I honestly don't think anyone truly is. All I can tell you is this: repentance, like vengeance, isn't the be-all and end-all.

It's not supposed to be the last chapter in the book of your life. You don't do it so that you can die satisfied, but so that you can live in peace. Hopefully, the day will come when you've made up for what you've done and rebalanced the scales of your soul. On that day, you'll be worthy, and you can truly start living."

Noah walked away, leaving Seraph to think over what he had been told. He returned to his friends, just as Roc and Cynatas landed nearby.

"That felt so good. I can't tell you how much I've missed flying." He then looked over at Seraph. "What's the deal with him? The two of you are best friends now?"

"Let's just say I helped turn his life around. He's no longer the guy you fought at the academy or the tournament, and he has no quarrel with you. I suggest you two bury the hatchet and leave the past in the past."

Roc grunted in response and cleared his throat. "Anyway, I'm starving. Let's get some real food."

"Come on. The inn we're staying at has great cooks."

They returned to the Platinum Inn and rented out one of the main dining rooms for a big buffet to feed their entire group. Countless dishes were prepared and drinks brought out. Considering how boisterous everyone became the last time they drank, Noah sealed off the room with his mana to contain the noise. They all indulged in their gluttony, savoring the dwarvish cuisine with their cups refilling over and over. They talked, exchanged jokes and laughs, and Noah filled Roc and Cynatas in on his curse and past lives.

"So how exactly did you guys convince the king about the Profane?" Roc asked while chewing on a rack of ribs. Being locked in prison had reduced him to skin and bones, so he was stuffing his face with unparalleled voracity.

"We put on a little show to make everyone think that the Profane had paid a visit," said Alexis. "You heard the ringing of that bell, didn't you? It gathered everyone in front of the palace."

"I'm glad you told me ahead of time, or else I would have attacked you," said Cynatas. "How did you do it exactly? Was that a costume you wore?"

"Sort of. It was a character I played on stage a long time ago. I think the story was called... Dark Downfall, or something like that. It originally was a costume, but now I can recreate it with magic," said Noah.

He then stood up and demonstrated, assuming his Diablos appearance. However, when he did it for the king, he had been wearing stilts on his feet to compensate for his character's demonic size, so he appeared shorter than before. Roc jerked in surprise, and his friends, even after seeing it already, were still unnerved by it. He then pointed a clawed finger at Roc.

"'I stand unopposed, with no God above me, no nemesis before me, and all of mankind below me!' I loved that line, but I hated the three hours I'd have to spend in the makeup chair. But still, you've got to love Rork Ryan, the best director I ever worked for. I respect anyone who goes for practical effects over CGI." Daniel was the only one who understood the last sentence and nodded in agreement.

"But how did you do that rotting smell? And that weird whine?" Cynatas asked with an amused smile.

"That was known as cadaverine, the chemical released from rotting meat that gives it its signature smell. I collected a sample from a dead rat and used alchemy to mass-produce it, filling the cavern. It wasn't actually the first time I used it either. A long time ago, in another life, my school--which you could think of as similar to the Knight Academy, minus the weapons--did a haunted house display for the town. Folks would walk in, enjoy the shoddily-made skeletons and specters put up in the dark hallways, and then have cookies and punch.

The guys in my class were really lazy and just wanted to do sheet ghosts. They'd cut out some eye holes and wander around, making the 'ooooh' sounds, but I came up with an idea. 'Not sheets,' I said, 'BLOODY sheets.' We had the people touring the exhibit go through a dark room, where a bunch of scattered students would just be standing dead-still like trees with sheets covering them, and a bloody stain where their face was, using red paint, of course. The idea was that it would be unnerving and build suspense, with the people walking by always expecting some kind of jump scare.

Most of the students would just stand there and do nothing, but I had some of them make small actions to build the tension. A couple of girls would pretend to sob under their sheets, a guy would suddenly jerk his head to side while making a cracking sound, another would keep whispering that he didn't want to die, and the biggest guy in the class would stand by the exit, loudly muttering, "I can smell it. I can smell it. I can smell it," over and over again. Then, when the people would walk by him to get out, he'd suddenly reach out and yell, "YOUR FILTHY SOUL!" We also kept the room cold, like we did for the Profane thing, to make people shiver.

The original plan was to simply hide plates of rotting meat in the corners for the smell, but the school objected, so I had to figure out how to artificially produce the cadaverine. The whole thing was a huge success. Multiple people soiled themselves, some came out just yelling swears, saying how fucked up the whole thing was, and unfortunately, one parent had a heart attack. He survived, but the exhibit was closed after that, and several parents complained about their kids having nightmares after."

Everyone in the room was either laughing at the story, shaking their heads, or just staring with wide eyes. "Anyway, you could say that was good practice for this."

"You're an absolute monster," Cyrilo sighed.

"Need I remind you that it was you and Sophia who produced that deathly chill in the amphitheater? You helped scare more people today than I did back then. And Daniel produced the whine you heard, Cynatas."

"It's called a Shepard Tone, used to build tension and cause anxiety. I'd never done one before, and it's not easy to do on a guitar. Still, it worked out awesome."

"Shannon and I were responsible for the braziers," said Alexis. "We launched arrows into them filled with explosive powder and various metals to change the colors of the flame."

"How'd you knock out the guards?" Cynatas asked.

Noah held up his hand and formed a small, illusory scalpel. "Weapons produced by my magic can't cause actual damage, but they make the victim think they've actually been cut, and can cause a feeling of dread and mortal terror. To the crowds, it looked like I was just slashing the guards with my finger."

Cynatas began clapping. "Well done, all of you. That was the finest show I've ever seen. You've succeeded in saving Vandheim. Now, it's getting late, and I think it's time I returned to the castle."

As she got up to leave, Roc grasped her hand. "Are you sure you don't want to stay a bit longer?"

"I need to make sure things are going smoothly for the king. Besides, you need your rest, and more importantly, a bath. But I'll see you soon."

She kissed him goodbye and then departed. Once she was gone, dinner was wrapped up, and everyone went to bed. But Noah, unable to sleep, decided to pay a visit to Sylphtoria. He projected himself to the palace, appearing beside Elisandra's bed. She was sound asleep, but that was no issue, as there was something else he had come for. He walked over to one of the windows and gazed at the moon. He couldn't see it in Duravound, but here, its fullness was crystal clear. Just a few more days, then he would know.

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