Blood Magus

Down in his base, Zeth spoke to Astrys.

After giving her precise orders on how he wanted her to move, he nodded. “So, those are your orders. Go up into the forest, search the surrounding area in the way I told you to, then come down here when you’re done.”

“That is…An extremely specific method. Was there a reason you decided it was necessary to control the exact number of steps I took in each direction while searching?”

“Like I said, you get a bit more freedom if you see a human or monster, so it shouldn’t be an issue.”

“I believe it would be more effective if I were able to move as I—”

Zeth raised a hand. “No. I can’t be certain what you will do if I give you freedom of movement. Now go up there and search.”

Astrys seemed like she wanted to say something, but she was forced to turn around and head up the stairs, going up to the surface to look for anything suspicious.

Zeth refused to allow another disaster to happen from his own lack of care while giving orders to his demons. Maybe it sounded rude, but he’d much rather be rude than be responsible for the deaths of another thirty people. The first time something like that happened, it was a mistake. The second time and onward, it was unforgivable incompetence. He’d already gotten the one strike he’d ever allow himself.

Once he heard her shut the trapdoor up above, he knelt down and began drawing. He figured it’d make sense to spend another couple hours working before he went to bed to allow that unsettling feeling of being watched to fade away. It was at least gone now, having faded once he’d disappeared down in his base, but who knew what may have been lurking up in the forest. Hopefully nothing, but one could never be too sure.

For now, he’d spend his time maintaining the hellfire circles that served as his defenses at the entrance to the complex—the ones right at the base of the stairs. They each needed about fifteen minutes of maintenance time per day, so it was possible he’d simply end up finishing repairs for all of them by the time he got tired enough to go to sleep. At least then, the next day would have them all done ahead of time.

As Zeth worked, he got an encouraging notification.

[Ritual Nexus Mastery’s Rank has increased to 12.

+1 Skill Point. You have 8 Skill Points.]

Finally, his Evolved Skill Ranked up a second time. It was always nice to get those little boosts in Skill Points. Now, next time he Leveled up, he’d have eleven Skill Points. And if Otherworldly Excellence Ranked up alongside his next Level, that’d bring him up to twelve—enough to purchase Speedy Rites. Though, that would only be true if he didn’t decide to buy Friend of the Unhallowed. He frowned as he worked, trying to work out which of the two would be best to purchase.

But then, a noise pulled him out of his thoughts.

Quickly, as though in a rush, the trapdoor that led into the base was thrown open and pulled shut. Zeth looked up at the spiral staircase, but his view was blocked from being able to see who came through. Had Astrys come back already?

For a moment, there was silence, but eventually, footsteps began echoing down as the person descended.

“Hello?” Zeth called.

The footsteps stopped.

“Astrys, if that’s you, answer me,” he said, growing nervous. “Right now.”

No answer.

Alarm bells began ringing in Zeth’s mind. Had someone seriously found their way in here? A guard? One of the Blood Mages? Was it just one person, or was an entire squad of people about to burst in here and attack? And where was Astrys? Already dead?

He stood and began backing away from the staircase, unsure of what to do. Part of him wanted to run off behind his defenses, grabbing the portable Hellfire Rituals he had stored in another room, but the other part wanted to rush right up these stairs to immediately attack whoever this person was. If they were the only one who knew his base’s location, they absolutely could not be allowed to leave and spread that information.

Before he could decide on what to do, though, the person suddenly began running down the stairs at full speed. Something about their footsteps sounded strange, though. He wasn’t hearing boots on wood, like it was a soldier dressed for combat. Rather, the person sounded small and light, wearing normal daily shoes. It almost sounded like—

“Zeth?” a voice called down. “Zeth, is that you?!”

He recognized the voice. And upon realizing who this was, Zeth didn’t know whether to feel relieved that he was safe, or absolutely horrified at how much danger this person was now in.

Sophie’s face peered around the central pillar, instantly lighting up with excitement as she recognized her brother. “It is you!”

Zeth stared at her, frozen in place.

She hopped down to the final step, looking down at the lines painted only inches away from her on the stone, eyes growing wide. “Woah! Is that…You really are a Blood Mage! That’s awesome!”

This is gonna be bad, Zeth thought.

***

Rosalie sat in the quiet tavern, eating a bowl of stew as she contemplated what she’d experienced this night. An entire cabal of Blood Mages, assisted by Wicked thralls and who knew who else, with their hands in the government, the guard, the guild…It was a disaster. A complete and total disaster. She had no way of combating this.

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Even if she could overpower all those people and slay everyone affiliated with the cabal, that would mean slaying every single person who ran things around here, and taking down the organization that employed all of these people. As horrible and exploitative as they were, ripping the guild away with no replacement would leave hundreds of families completely destitute. Someone like Rosalie was simply not equipped to deal with a problem of this scale.

She was currently taking a short break after doing everything she could to warn people. She’d started with everyone living closest to that new mayor’s house, knocking on door after door after door explaining to anyone who would listen everything she knew about the cabal. Some people listened. Some people didn’t. Most didn’t even answer their doors, with how she was knocking in the middle of the night. She knew the danger she was bringing to herself doing something so loud and attention-grabbing, but she was at least doing something about those despicable Blood Mages. If she could at least save one person by warning them ahead of time, it would be worth it.

Still, that was only a temporary measure. Something—someone—had to destroy them.

Once again, her mind went to the empire’s Inquisitors. Rosalie wondered if it would be a good idea to call for them. She could send a letter, or pay for instantaneous magical communication to a nearby large city, asking them to send anyone they could down here. She could get Erza and Alfon to do the same, and with them being able to say that the new mayor had been assassinated, she was sure they’d come over.

As an organization, the Inquisitors were certainly powerful enough to take on an enemy of this scale. Even on an individual scale, she wouldn’t have been surprised if one of them could defeat everyone in this entire town in single combat. But that was precisely the problem.

The Inquisitors were not people of morality, like her. Rosalie slayed evildoers because she wanted to help people. The Inquisitors, however, existed merely to enforce the law. Particularly, they existed to enforce the death penalty.

The Inquisitor Class was one of the only ones in existence whose sole method of Leveling up was through killing other human beings. Most combat Classes could kill monsters to gain their strength, but for Inquisitors, that was not an option. This quality, of course, made the Class strictly prohibited for anyone not in the empire’s squad to own—it simply incentivised murder. But just being affiliated with the empire didn’t suddenly make the official Inquisitors any less capable of atrocity.

They were, essentially, a cleanup crew. Governments were not allowed to execute their criminals themselves—they had to wait for the Inquisitors to come by. For larger cities, Inquisitors would pretty much always be around, and for smaller towns, it might take a year or two for them to visit, with prisoners on death row continuing to fill up their jail cells in the meantime. And, once the Inquisitors visited, they’d ensure each of these people were guilty of their crimes, and kill them, keeping them ever-skyrocketing in Level.

But that wasn’t all. On top of combat abilities, Inquisitors had methods of detecting pieces of a person’s Status. And, as the official arm of imperial law, they were more than ready to dole out punishment to anyone who broke it. The issue came there. Perhaps some of them were okay, but from all of Rosalie’s own encounters with the Inquisitors, they had shown absolutely zero empathy for the citizens of the towns they patrolled.

They wanted to kill people. Inquisitors Leveled from killing anyone, not just people who deserved it. If they could find any tiny reason, any possible reading of the law that allowed for someone’s execution, they would decapitate that person before they could even beg for their life. It didn’t matter if they were standing in front of a mass murderer, or a woman who had taken the Assassin Class to kill a monster threatening her child. Each one would be killed.

She hated them, just as much as she hated anyone else who murdered for their own gain.

Rosalie shook her head. No matter how much she felt she needed help, she wouldn’t resort to begging those people. Especially when she knew there was a Blood Mage in this town who had a possibility of not deserving death. That one man—he’d killed the mannitor, and now he had supposedly set fire to the cabal’s base. If what he’d said was true, he didn’t just deserve to live, he deserved to be commended for his heroism. Fighting against these Blood Mages, taking down their leaders—he was doing what she couldn’t.

She didn’t know for sure, but it was possible he was doing the right thing. And for as long as there was even a possibility of his innocence, she couldn’t call in a squad of soldiers she knew would find and kill him. Bringing the Inquisitors here would be as good as personally stabbing him in the back. She wouldn’t do it.

Eventually, she finished her meal and stood up from her lonesome seat in the tavern, turning and walking back out. With a belly full of food, she’d go right back to knocking on doors and informing people of the danger present in this town. Hopefully, as dawn began to crack, people would begin waking up and she’d be able to speak to more of them. Maybe she could even convince one or two to flee this place.

When she knocked on her first door once she left the tavern, finding an older balding man opening the door, she immediately went into her speech, having spoken it so many times by now it had almost become rehearsed.

“Excuse me, sir. I am an adventurer from out of town, and after coming here, I made a horrifying discovery. There is a cabal of Blood Mages operating underneath your town, and they have amassed a large amount of power. It is possible they may even have a hand influencing various governmental institutions. Please, I urge you to—”

The man chuckled. “Well, that makes sense.”

She blinked surprised at his response. Normally, people shut their doors in her face at what she’d just said, muttering about how annoying it was to be bothered by crazy foreigners in the middle of the night. Or, at the very least, if they believed her, they’d look horrified. But this man, what had he said? “Excuse me? It makes sense?”

“Well, considering the news, y’know? Makes sense that’s what’s going on. I was confused there for a minute.”

“Confused about what? What news?”

“You haven’t heard? I guess I only saw them a few minutes ago. Inquisitors have come to town.”

Rosalie’s heart dropped. “They’re already on their way?”

“They’re already here. Saw a squad of them marching around the streets when I was getting dressed to head into the mines. Then you showed up. Thought it makes sense they’d call in the Inquisitors so fast, if what you’re talking about is true.”

“That makes no sense. How did they arrive so quickly? Did they fly in? Or teleport?”

He shrugged. “Hope they clear out that bandit camp you were talking about, or whatever it was. Anyway, gotta eat or I’ll be late.”

Before Rosalie could correct him and remind him of how serious this was, he shut the door.

She turned around to face the street, and that was when she heard it. Synchronized footsteps—metal boots on cobblestone road. As she stared ahead, a whole squad appeared in her vision, walking perfectly side-by-side, like they were mere golems being controlled by a Skill. And the perfectly identical uniforms they wore, covering every bit of their skin from head to toe, certainly didn’t help with their inhuman looks.

Inquisitors. A lot of them. And from the looks of them, they were busy.

This is going to be bad, Rosalie thought.

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