Parcival rode through the forest, the rattle of a heavy cart following behind him. He could feel the excitement of the men as they brought their latest harvest back to their camp hidden in a gorge.
There were three women and one boy in the covered wagon, the last not to his taste but who was he to judge.
Riding his horse, he swiveled in his saddle, giving the three people in the front a once over. They looked just like his former crew, with the tall, thin Archivuald, the burly Tanur, and the ever serious Yurlan.
Parcival still didn't know how his unexpected sponsor had a flesh shaper in such a timely manner nor why he demanded these three get their faces changed, but it was working out quite well.
He had no idea who these people really were, but they were rotten to the core, with the one who liked Archie being the most despicable.
The level of depravity that man had already committed in the span of a month was downright impressive, throwing Archie's name and reputation so far in the dirt there would be no way he could climb back out.
Archivuald would likely be stunned to find that his bounty was about to jump up several orders of magnitude higher after they just slaughtered a caravan down to the last.
They had, of course, let one or two escape, to spread word back to the authorities and let the Order know what they had done. A few of his subordinates had died, but they were just grunts with their only value to be used as fodder.
The thought made Parcival grin.
He pulled out an oddly shaped metal token, with dense fractals covering its surface. The token heated up as he poured essence into its fragile pathways.
There were several moments of silence before a masculine voice filled his head.
"Is it done?" the voice asked, right to business as always.
"Yes, we have captured the girl. She is a little roughed up, but she is alive and well," Parcival replied. No reason to tell him about the two maids, and the boy, those were rewards for his crew.
"Good, keep it that way. Do not do anything else to her, she is not to be sullied am i clear?"
"Loud and clear boss," Parcival replied.
"Good, keep them in line or it's your ass. In the meantime, lay low, and be ready for further orders. Cover your tracks and don't be found, word of her capture will spread like wildfire across the inner expanse," the voice said.
"Who exactly did we just kidnap?" Parcival asked.
"That girl is the great granddaughter to the Pope, and her kidnapping will spread across the inner expanse like wildfire," the voice said.
Parcival's eyes widened at the implication as he glanced back at the covered cart.
"That is a very high-profile target. I thought you said she was just the daughter of some nobleman?" Parcival replied, his nervousness shooting through the roof
"I have my reasons for lying. What are you even complaining about? You are being paid well, and the information about the escort was as I described wasn't it?" the voice asked.
Parcival gritted his teeth.
"You are not paying me well enough to kidnap such an important figure! This will be a slap in the face to the Order, they will come down on us with a vengeance," Parcival replied, his anxious tone making his horse shift nervously.
The man's voice came back much darker than before.
"You are being paid very well, and given free reign to do pretty much whatever you want. Don't be mistaken, I can take it all away just as quickly as I gave it to you. Do not panic, i will send you more lackeys. In the meantime, stay hidden, one of my trusted subordinates will be by shortly to secure her. All you need to do is keep her alive and well for a week, maybe two, then she won't be your problem any more," the man replied.
Parcival gritted his teeth at the man's overbearing words, but didn't have a response. As much as he hated to admit it, the man on the other end, who he had never met in person before, was in control. It was a temporary arrangement, one Parcival was going to change in due time.
For now, he would bide his time, be a good little grunt, and when the time came, he would gut the man on the other end like a fish. In the meantime, he would get to do all the pillaging, killing and even enjoy his other pursuits..
He took a deep breath, slowly letting it out. That was right, he had pretty good thing going on, so there was no need to rush. It had only been just over a month, and they had already robbed one caravan and several smaller groups.
It was only a matter of time before he could finally discover if noble women tasted superior to commoners.....
Under the dim light of two moons, Archivuald, and foxy made their way across the wind torn landscape. There were plenty of trees, though, as if in a parody to the real world, the trees looked nearly dead. They were gnarled, short and stubby, with thorns, and little growth.
People had still tried to bring the lumber out, a method of logging that didn't deplete the forests outside.
That hadn't gone so well. The wood was unusable for building, emitting plumes of acrid smoke as it rapidly decayed once exposed to the outside world. The sap, and occasionally fruit, were equally as unpleasant, ranging from mildly toxic, to outright deadly to eat. Some rare specimens could be used in medicine, but those were few and far between.
Add in the biting cold, snow and the thick ash that constantly fell, it made for an unpleasant environment. Noone knew where exactly the land inside of the rifts was, but it was almost always the same bleak, hellish landscape.
It was no wonder the monsters that made this place their home were desperate to flee into the human world. Many scholars had theorized where it might be, perhaps another dimension, or perhaps an area connected to the Nether realm. It was mostly just speculation, as anyone caught inside a rift when it collapsed was never seen again.
Whether they were killed by monsters on the other side, or died during the collapse, was anyone's guess.
For his part, Archivuald was quite curious about such things. He wasn't much of a scholar, but it was interesting to think about. Who wasn't curious about an interdimensional phenomenon that even the brightest minds of the order and the cult hadn't figured out even after centuries of study?
There were many mysteries he wished to unravel, like the cataclysm, and humanities near extinction. What had happened during the cataclysm? Equally as curious, why had the holy city of Arcadia, said to be the birthplace of the holy mother herself, just vanished from thin air?
It had been nearly a thousand years, and yet no one had found it. It could be because the depths of the inner reaches were deadly even to blade Cardinals, but he doubted it was so simple.
Something was going on, a web of secrets and lies that Archivuald was just dying to unravel. Something tremendous had happened all those years ago, something scary enough that it fractured the world into three fragments of the outer band, each connected by thin strips of land to the inner expanse.
Archivuald could only push the mysteries to the back of his mind. Now was not the time to be daydreaming. The two were approaching the nexus, having butchered their way through the forest. He had to admit, he couldn't have done it without Foxy.
She really was a scary monster. Fast, agile, and incredibly sneaky with several abilities that shrouded her form in darkness, and even helped her leap through the shadows like Parcival did back then. The more they killed, the more he became certain he would have died back then if she had attacked him.
He still was unclear why Foxy had spared him, but decided to just roll with it. She was fast proving to be an invaluable companion, her incredible sense of smell, and hearing detecting the monsters long before he could.
These stealthy monsters would have given him a lot of trouble alone, but with foxy giving him plenty of warning, they only got a few light injuries.
The monsters, though quite stronger than the last rift he cleared, were quite stupid. They used the same tactic over and over, trying to ambush the duo repeatedly.
Whoever was in charge really wasn't the brightest, showing up to confront them out in the open. It wasn't difficult to tell this was the monster in charge, given it clutched the Nexus in its mouth. Surrounded by six of its underlings, it stood at the back, barking out commands.
It wasn't quite language, he doubted these monsters were smart enough for that, but it seemed to get the point across. The monsters all attacked, from the front, making Archivauld. They really were stupid monsters.
"Foxy, look away!" Archivauld commanded, as essence flooded into his second divine curse. Swirling darkness gathered overhead, a pitch black vortex that consumed all light growing rapidly. It was a mesmerising spectacle, all the monsters, including the leader looking up at the phenomenon.
It was too their doom. It only took about two seconds for the eye of the dark god to fully form. Even the constant, howling wind went deathly quiet as the vertical pupil opened, revealing the madness within.
Its terrifying aura of despair blanketed the area in front of him, and all those who looked within found the first darkness, true oblivion. Streamers of light were sucked from their eyes and mouths, as their vital essence was ripped out, sucked into the darkness above.
The horrified screams echoed in his mind, their pain filled voices sending chills up his spine. Whatever they saw, whatever they felt in their last moments must have been truly terrible. Perhaps that was the drawback of this Emblem? To know that your enemies would suffer a much worse fate than death on the other side.
She shuddered, stepping forwards, his gaze darting over the withered husks that were left of the monsters as the eye faded behind him. He wasn't sure if he should be happy or not after having evolved the emblem to knight tier. It's effects were incredibly potent, but he wasn't a huge fan of the horrific end part.
He even felt a little bad for those unfortunate monsters. It was an anticlimactic end to his first knight tier rift, but he wasn't too upset about that. He had reaped quite the bounty, and despite not finding an emblem in this rift it was still a good haul.
In total, he had harvested twenty five Night tier essence, with another twenty copper tier. This was quite common for higher tier rift, with not all the monsters having higher quality essence stones.
Archivauld couldn't help but grin as he wrenched the Nexus from the monster's mouth. It was positively full to bursting with essence, containing far more energy that the last one he held.
A truly bountiful harvest, and it was all his. Off to one side, Foxy sniffed at one of the corpses, her face blanching.
She really wasn't a big fan when he used the eye of the dark god. He wasn't sure the exact reason, but he suspected it made the corpses taste absolutely foul. She gave him that half pouty, half outraged face, her long ears drooping.
"Sorry about that. How about we get out of this shithole and find you something else to eat?" Archivuald suggested.
The insatiable glutton perked up at that. She was covered in thick greyish black fur, but even so, he could tell she wasn't as resilient to the biting cold as he was.
In high spirits, they headed for the exit, returning the way they came, the gale force winds having already covered up their trail with snow. As they walked, he crushed each of the seven essences he just collected. After seeing the power of the eye of the dark god at knight tier, he was excited about evolving his monster form. It was so close, with all seven essence stones pushing it right to the edge. One or two more and it would grow, giving him his third knight tier emblem, including his Holy Orb. His rapid improvement was exhilarating, with his wind cutter emblem being the only other power still in copper tier.
His rapid growth was by no means a common thing. People usually tackled rifts with four or five people, all the spoils being divided between them.
There were of course exceptions, like insanely rich people who pain high rankers to kill all the monsters for them.
Even amongst the aristocracy this was not to common past even in Lord tier. In rifts that dangerous, bringing along weaklings could get your own people killed. Not many were willing to risk that for some extra silver, though it did happen on occasion.
People who rose to power this way were often referred to as paper tigers. Strong powers, but lacking in experience and the skill to properly use them. They were oftentimes more of a danger to allies than enemies.
There was even a stigma around it, with most noble houses, and rich families not wanting to have their members associated with such people since it could bring disgrace on their houses. People still did it, as they could burn money for power, but they usually kept it within reason.
And not that they could really rise to the top that way in any case. Saint tier, and the Cardinal rifts were in another league, those who dared enter them unwilling to sell or trade their essence stones. After all, people at that level of power were few and far between, risking their lives with each such delve. Only the well connected could reach such a stage in either case, needing resources and support. At the Cardinal tier, it could take decades to evolve a single emblem, with the users forced to risk their lives at a chance to push an emblem to the Phantasmal tier.
The Pope, the holy representative of the Order, was rumored to be one of the few Phantasmal tier Holders in the world. Rumor said the divine emblem granted the Pope true immortality, though he doubted it was true. Immortality was for the gods, not mortals, though perhaps he had attained false immortality.
Archivauld was a bit cynical about the whole ordeal given the fact that the Pope hadn't made an appearance to the public in over a decade. Many, like himself, thought the Pope dead, with the Order trying to cover it up. It was a common belief, considering the Popes age was well into his nineties.
Archivauld grunted to himself as he stepped through the swirling vortex, returning to the human world. Just another layer of lies and deceit orchestrated by the church.
Behind him, the hovering vortex shuddered, having its anchor to the prime dimension severed. The Nexus, or Anchor as the scholars like to call it, was a marvelous treasure, said to be the reason why the monsters could pass between dimensions. If the Anchors were constructed, or formed naturally was still a mystery.
One thing was for certain with all rifts. Once the Nexus was destroyed or taken out, the rift would rapidly decay, slowly collapsing over several days. Not a ton of time to find the exit and escape, hence why most didn't shatter the Nexus until outside.
His first rift they hadn't had much choice, with a rockslide crushing it, but that was out of the norm.
Archivauld patted his pack, where he had stuffed the Nexus, glancing at the morning sky, trying to orient himself.
He was already sweating, the sunrise feeling hot and muggy after being inside the rift. His monster form did not do well in the heat, even with the pervasive domain around him. Now, how to get back to his camp? He pulled out his map, turning it several ways, while glancing back up at the sky.
The sun rises in the east, sets in the west. Hmmm. That means with the sun oriented to his right, he should be facing south.
Foxy, for her part, lounged in the soft grass, lying on her back, her tongue lolling out, basking in the sunshine. How did she always make everything look so comfortable? Annoyed, he stared back down at the map, uncertain of where he was.
They had run for quite a while before finding the rift, and he had no distinct landmarks for reference. All he could do was point in a direction he thought might be south, and hope he ran into one of the small lakes that should be in that direction.
Archivuald headed into the forest, keeping up a fairly good clip considering he was moving through dense woodlands.
It took several hours until he finally found something, or to be more precise, smelled something. The smell of blood and gore was heavy on the wind. Drenched in sweat, he decided to scale a tree. It was quite easy given he had hooked claws that could grip gaps in the bark.
One atop a limb, he shielded his light sensitive eyes, a few ravens circling in the distance.
It was a bit out of his way, but this was the first sign of anything in hours.He frowned, sniffing the air as the thick stench of blood was blown on the wind. It didn't smell just like one corpse, no, that smelled like a massacre. Climbing down, he glanced at Foxy, who clearly could smell it too.
The two approached cautiously, following the smell for about half hour. In broad daylight, they kept to the dense foliage, with Archivuald eventually reaching his mark.
By now the stench was nearly overwhelming, the smell of blood and guts heavy, the distant call of crows filling the air.
Peering from cover, Archivauld watched from a ridge, as the scavengers picked over the corpses. There were perhaps a dozen bodies strewn about, mangled and battered. The largest of the dead were horses, but there were at least eight dead humans.
Somewhere caravan guards, given their equipment, while others were civilians who had run, and been cut down. Seeing the state of the corpses, he left cover, cautiously walking down to the road. At least a day or two of decay in the summers heat, with some of the bodies having been fed on by monsters, their eyes picked out by the ravens.
They were in the wilderness, the monster infested region between major cities, which was why no one had come for the dead yet. It was likely he was the first to have discovered this atrocity.
It didn't take a genius to tell it was not monsters that slaughtered the people in this Caravan. Arrows riddled into some of the bodies with horrific cuts from sword wounds.
Nearby, Foxy walked around one of the remains of a burned carriage, sniffing the ground. She paused near a burned and mangled body, sniffing it.
"Foxy, leave it," Archivuald snapped, his tone more aggressive than he perhaps intended.
She looked at him with confusion on her animalistic face, licking her lips as she glanced back down at the body burned beyond recognition. He glared at her, clenching the haft of his ax in a white knuckled grip.
She must have seen something in his eyes as she hesitantly turned away. Archivuald was tense as he walked amongst the carnage, wondering what kind of monsters would do this?
He picked over the remains, hoping to find a survivor. His heart was racing a million miles a minute as he peered one the only unburned cart.
His eye burned with a blinding fury as he took in the scene inside. The window was broken, and an arrow was lodged into the neck of a richly dressed woman.
Clutched in her lifeless arms was an unmoving child, covered in his mothers blood. The sight made his mouth run dry, and blood run cold. Absolute monsters. There was nothing he could do for the poor child. Archivuald could not bring back the dead. Rage, a palpable anger, rushed through his body.
He wanted to kill those responsible, to rip them limb from limb, but first, he had to find them. Turning, he looked at Foxy, who was standing nearby seeming to sense the tense atmosphere.
"Can you find the ones who did this?" Archivuald asked, clenching the haft of his axe so tight he thought it might shatter.
Foxy, who seemed more intelligent than a monster should be turned, sniffing the air. Her incredible sense of smell must have picked up something as she growled, her nose pointing down the road.
"Let's go, we have people to kill," Archivauld said.
Needing no urging, Foxy set off.
Their quarry had at least a day's head start, and might have horses, but they didn't know what was coming after them. With all the death on the air, Archivuald couldn't pick out anything, but Foxy was different.
With her incredible sense of smell, Foxy would find them for sure. When she did, Archivuald was going to send these monsters in the guise of people to meet the Dark God in his hellish realm.