Rezello

---

It seemed Rezello wouldn't be the only one entering unfamiliar territory. An exciting prospect, to be sure, but of course entering such lands on official business was always different from traveling as an adventurer. Their group would be representing their employers in the Order, after all, rather than themselves as individuals. Then again, from Carmen's brief outburst it seemed that the rest of the Order had never intended for their mission to take place in the first place. Politics putting on a facade of morality while getting in the way of truly positive action, from the sound of it, but he wouldn't pretend to understand the scope of such things.

He could, however, relate to the feeling of frustration at the inaction of others. While he hadn't been the only one left untouched by the incident in Scheel twelve years ago, to his knowledge he was the only one that had been actively trying to discover its cause. Of the twelve other members of his former conroi, he had crossed paths with four of them since their disbandment of the Sten Corps. They had taken up the life of an adventurer, as he had, though none did so with the same purpose. Thinking of the other surviving knights again, he couldn't help but wonder where they might be now. Perhaps some of them had ended up traveling into Tretagor; the constant wars there would certainly provide plenty of opportunity to a prospective mercenary, had they chosen to go down that path.

Realizing he was starting to become lost in his thoughts again, Rezello dispelled the lingering memories from his consciousness and set his mind towards the present and the future - for example, the meal in front of him that he had yet to finish. He worked away at the meat and soup he had taken, listening in on what seemed to be the tail end of Carnatia's insight into the politics of the situation. Intricacies that were well beyond his understanding - it made him glad that the officials in Westernant hadn't chosen to grant him the same sort of title and standing that they had done for her, for such things would've been wasted upon him.

As Carmen and Mirielle made their comments on the elves, Rezello could feel the spirit within his mask begin to stir.

Elves, scheming? Sluggish? Surely not. Humans are just impulsive. Don't know how to form a proper plan of action, or...

Rezello ignored the voice now rambling within his head and continued eating, concluding his meal with the remainder of his wine.

---

"Yes, it is now, dear Amanita, it should be rainy season right now in Tretagor."

"Oh...That's good." Maybe after everything is wrapped up, she could stay there for some time, just to soak the atmosphere a bit. She's been moving around a bit lately, so she wouldn't mind a break.

"Flavoring, isn't it? I did it too with the potions." Linceleste politely said to the people who were talking about the wine focus her look to the shroom girl.

She nodded to the diminutive girl

"Humans are quite fond of taste, so i try to make it palatable for them" The few times that she didn't, they think she was trying to poison them, so from then onward she tried her best to make it as good as possible.

"Miss Amanita, I find myself intrigued by these wines you manufactured. I think they would make for a promising business venture in Westernant. As you may have heard, I own a Barony in Westernant. After this expedition is over, I would be delighted to welcome you to my land and be your patron, if you are interested."

Looking at her back as she started to move away, she thought about the offer the red-haired human, Carnatia if she remembers the name correctly, gave her. She was just thinking of taking a break from exploring, and with this she could pass a couple decades completely immersed in her hobby.

She should ask if they have an humid cellar she could live in when she gets the chance.

"The elves act at a pace that would make moss growing looks speedy. Perhaps it's their lifespan, but they cannot move with the same urgency we do." Back to Carmen, she quipped with undisguised annoyance at their long-eared neighbors. That particular people had always been a source of mixed feelings. On one hand their origin was most noble, yet on the other hand they always felt rather... out of place. Always half-measures on all things despite being able to do more."

Tilting her head at the white-haired human, she couldn't help but be slightly confused

Moss doesn't grow that slow,does it? She remembers the time when she watched it grow, it didn't feel like it took that long...

"Is being slow bad?"

Meanwhile, just a floor below the Hall of Glory ...

Archbishop Saunière slowly walked down the stairs leading to the underground complex of the church, feeling the usual uneasiness whenever he brought himself down to this rather deserted section. Before he was granted his title, his predecessors used this basement as a detention facility for criminals or members of congregations that broke the sacred order.

It was a practice that had long been obsolete in Helvetia, partly because the Republic banned it, and also because Saunière himself believed that dealing out severe corporeal punishment was not the domain of men, but rather God himself.

"Oh, wait until you see this one specimen." The archbishop remembered Cardinal Seroz's laughter when he transferred a chained prisoner into his threshold. Likely his punishment From The Order for granting mercy toward members of the congregation who at some point had gone astray.

The chamber before him was secured by a heavy wooden door. This was the only enclosed room that remained after his disciples had renovated the rest of the basement and turned it into an indoor gymnasium for them to train, usually used as a resting room for those who had exhausted themselves after hours of hard workouts.

But today, the chamber was guarded by one of his most reliable disciples, who stood there, bored out by the uneventfulness of his duty. He immediately straightened himself upon seeing Saunière.

"At ease, my child." Saunière said patiently. If it was up to him, he would think this was unnecessary, but Cardinal assured him that this prisoner must not be left alone, especially since this was a new habitat for her. So he obeyed, but he did not lock the door.

"I will take care of this. I assume you did not enter the room and nothing has happened?"

"No, Father. She's been all quiet."

"Good. You may go upstairs and rest."

The disciple, despite his previously bored disposition, now sounded concerned.

"Father, sir, If what I've heard is true, then let me accompany you."

"It is unnecessary," Archbishop assured, not looking back at his disciple who grew even more appalled when the Archbishop turned the knob and opened the heavy door without a key. "If she is as dangerous as they say, you'd have seen it sooner. Now go, I will speak to our friend. Fewer people mean less nervousness, don't you agree?"

After dismissing his disciple and making sure that he had climbed upstairs, Saunière let the door open as he entered the chamber.

Sitting in that room was a woman with a pale complexion and white hair styled with distinctive trim on the bangs. She was robed in a wardrobe that at first glance, seemed like an ordinary nun headscarf but looked like it was pelted by thin blades made of black iron, reminding Saunière of the dramatized paintings of the old saints but disfigured and sinister.

His red eyes stared at him with lividness, but the archbishop only smiled. "Sorry, It was rude for me to talk behind your back. Have you eaten yet?"

There was a trayful of food at the small table by the corner of the room, it was not different from what the church has served in the Glory Hall (minus the wine of course), but it had been left untouched.

"I am sorry, it is not my intention to treat you like a prisoner. I wish we could welcome you like how men of God would receive a guest in His house."



Being transferred from place to place wasn't exactly something new for Amaris. During at least 7 years, she had been taken around under chains to serve as the Order's hunting hound, in hopes of reducing a sentence she didn't deserve, given to hide the incompetence of the Westernant authority and the corruption of all involved with that slaver settlement. Her 'condemnation'? A mere façade to preserve the status-quo and avoid scandals.

After all, she was more than sure that should the slavers be Sarkaz people, the inquisitors would readily mark them as heretics and burn them alive for their sins...

But unlike most inquisitors, the man who met Amaris was much different. Unlike the fanatic zealots that often took the mantle of inquisitors, the Archbishop was a calm, placid and measured man... One of the few that treated her as a person instead of a dangerous, chained animal, something which shattered the image she had from him.

But despite his apparent kindness, Amaris had the feeling there was more behind the man. The very idea that someone as calm and kind as him was able to control the bloodthirsty, trigger-happy zealots under the Order's command was... difficult to believe. It was precisely due to these thoughts that Amaris found it hard to fully trust the Archbishop.

The food they offered her just before meeting with him was a truly delectable dish, different from the bland bread and dried meat she was given by most of her other 'handlers'. Truth be told, Amaris herself was incredibly tempted to eat it even now, with the dish being lukewarm at best, after being put aside by her due to her distrust regarding the entire situation. After all, it was almost unheard of any prisoners meeting the Archbishop face to face... Much less one as dangerous as Amaris.

"Good Evening, Archbishop Saunière. It's been a while time since I heard someone referring to me as a 'guest' instead of a witch." Amaris said finally, carefully analyzing the man as he entered the secure room.



"A guest." Corrected Saunière, shaking his head in a seemingly superficial dismay. "Whoever comes and seeks shelter in this church doesn't matter as long as they don't spell danger to my congregation, and you, Amaris, have behaved like a good guest would. I don't know if that's because of your situation or purely from your heart, but is only fair if we repay that in full."

"is that so?" asked the woman. "One of the guards told me that I should give praise and thank the Hero Lydus for this delectable dish. While I'm not a pious woman, I wish not to squander yours—and His—gifts and good will, but hope you don't mind if I wish to eat something a bit warmer. Who knows when I'll have the chance of indulging on such luxury again, after all..."

Amaris said, expertly dodging away from partaking from that particular dish and opting for... 'fresher' ones, less likely to have been tampered with.

It was a small detail, but it was enough for Saunière to realize that she was still a bit cautious about trusting him and the order... Even after nine years.

"Thank Lord Creator, not Lydus, for he was just a messenger of good commandments. That being said, you don't need my permission to relish what has been provided. It is the same victuals we provided for our honorable guests, nothing less and nothing more. Should you want more or a warmer option, we can go upstairs. But there is something I need to talk to you first. An important matter."

There was a moment of silence, the kind of haunting silence of one party not yet agreeing with the other's proposal. However, it would soon be apparent, that there was no disagreement, just the other party still lagging on the part of their conversation that she found amusing.


Amaris couldn't help but let out an amused smirk and a chuckle as she heard Saunière's words mentioning that she didn't spell danger to his church. From the day she was caught to that very moment they found themselves face to face, Amaris refused to harm any innocent and yet he was one of the few people who actually seemed to truly believe her.

"I can understand why everyone from the Order speaks of you with such admiration and reverence. Either you are almost a living saint or an incredibly cunning person... For my own good, I hope it's the former one." Amaris said with an amused chuckle, as she shifted on her seat, taking a more comfortable position as she leaned forward, paying attention at what Saunière had to say.

"Curious how your Creator seems to be much gentler, kinder and more generous than the ones the Inquisitors seem to speak of..." Amaris said, with an amused expression, carefully observing the Archbishop's reaction to that small provocation.



Sauniere decided to let the remark slide and replied with a weak smile.

"Their intention is good," he said. "But some of us have their ways of expressing such intention, I am saying this without agreeing to some of the Inquisitor's extreme methods, mind you, but also not condemning them, for the opinion of one man should not be taken as the ultimate truth. Maybe there is a wisdom I have yet to see from their harsh proceedings, that some see as disproportionate. I am sure you are no stranger to harsh and disproportionate retribution, am I wrong?"



Upon hearing Saunière's reply after she mentioned the inquisitors, and a cue to 'that' accident Amaris expression immediately darkened, as she looked at him in silence for a moment.

For a brief moment, it almost seemed like the Archbishop's reply had enraged Amaris, that was before her expression immediately lightened as she let out a smile and a very amused laugh.

"A cunning man indeed. Much to my dismay. It seems I was right in being careful about you. Risking sounding like an inquisitor myself, it might have been harsh, but not undeserved. What happened in that settlement wasn't murder. It was reckoning. With that said, I still think I am better than most inquisitors at judging who are truly guilty or not before acting."



The Archbishop let out an exasperated sigh and shook his head, his tone was still patient.

"While it is true that there are some inquisitors who act outside of their boundaries, like in your accident, most of them act based on rules and code of conduct. Power is a heady thing, Amaris. When you think of yourself as the judge, jury, and executioner, be careful you might already walk in the same path as the people you despise."

"Sometimes we are forced to take on this role, Archbishop. No matter how heavy it might be..." Amaris replied, with a serious expression when Saunière mentioned the risk she was taking to walk the same path of those she despised.

"Especially when those who should have done something instead would prefer avert their eyes and ignore the suffering of others for their own gain." she finished, with a dark expression.

Smiling, Saunière hoped that Amaris would remember what he just said. Considering what this woman had gone through for the past 7 years, he understood her bitterness and arguing would be the last thing they needed.

So he gave her a moment, to let the words sink deeper before he directed their focus back on the matter at hand.



"Let us not dwell on the past." I would not say this conversation is entirely about the disappearance of Paladin Thomas, but in your case, it is more about you, and why you are here.

Without giving Amaris a chance to speak, he continued. "There are... some people who wish for ill fate to befall us. Those people wish you would take advantage of my leniency and harm me and my congregation so they would have the excuse to have you executed and remove me from my position. I must confess at first I had that fear, but then I prayed to God, for his protection, and for Him to not disappoint my faith for I believe every soul was created good. It seems my prayer was not in vain.

And that brings us to this conversation. You can see that I don't have that restraining device with me, I left it in my office, because I trust you. Because I believe you would make this decision not out of selfishness. The decision to make you what you are now was not right, but as a part of The Order, and more importantly, as a servant of God, how wretched I am to set you free without proof of virtue, or with a possibility of recapture by the inquisitors."



In silence, Amaris quietly and carefully heard his words. While there was indeed a new mission she was designated to, it wasn't in fact, the main point of that serious —and rather secretive— conversation.

Even a man as powerful and cunning as the Archbishop had enemies, enemies who not only wanted to get rid of him, to see him fail but were willing to use Amaris as a pawn for their own goals. Considering the fact that there were signals that corrupt authorities were likely involved in the slaver settlement nine years ago, it wasn't that surprising that there were also some bad apples inside the very order.

Nevertheless, Amaris was still impressed by how much the Archbishop was willing to trust, both his plan and Amaris herself. Not only he decided to meet her face to face, but without the signet ring that was used to activate the Robes of Penitence. Even if Amaris assumed that there was some other way to activate the robes or that there was someone else observing their conversation, ready to activate her robes, there was still a very real threat to the Archbishop, should she decide to do something... Of course, she would likely end being executed on spot, but still...

"In seven years of completing missions for the Order, I have never harmed innocent people... Even when your inquisitors would. I am many things, Archbishop Saunière, but I am not guilty of half the things most people accuse me of." Amaris said with a serious tone.

"I know not about the enemies you face inside the Order or about what are they capable of doing just to get rid of you, but I can at least assure you that you were correct in putting your faith in me." Amaris said. For a brief moment, an almost imperceptible smile crossed Amaris' face as she said that, almost as if she was a bit thankful for the trust he had on her.

Sauniere said nothing, seemingly knowing that his words were not needed. Her assurance had satisfied him enough, and now it was her turn to bargain her price.

"I assume you plan in having me participate in this mission, right? Should it have a positive outcome, you would be showing your competence as the Archbishop, gaining leverage against those who want to see your downfall inside the Order and consolidating your position. In the other hand, I would earn my freedom and proving that most charges against me are either incorrect or simply false. Should this, in turn, reveal the truth about the corruption that allowed the slave trade to flourish in the border settlement that was destroyed by me nine years ago, besides being a very desirable outcome for me, would also make it harder for whoever your enemies are, to openly make any moves against you without drawing suspicion to themselves... Am I correct?" Amaris said after thinking for a moment in the words the Archbishop had just said.

"In the end, having this mission end in a success would be incredibly helpful for both of us." Amaris concluded after considering the benefits and drawbacks of accepting the Archbishop's proposal


"I want you to participate in this mission," he said, with mirth that somewhat mocks her theorem. "I promise no specified outcome should the mission go well, but your freedom. Your guardianship has been transferred to me, and naturally, it is my call now to assign you a task as I see fit. This will be your last duty, and your obligation toward the Order will be no more. You need not worry about my predicament, dear Amaris, but the aftermath..."

"Meaning?"

"My influence in The Order might be significant but limited nonetheless. Clearing your name would be a tall order and I am sorry for that."

The archbishop did not fail to notice the expression in Amaris' pale visage. But she should have seen that coming. Both of them knew what the order was capable of, and although The Order almost never dishonored a contract, the possibility of someone of higher rank than him vetoing his decision and re-apprehend Amaris was never out of the table.

But he wasn't a man without a plan.

"But please hear me out for a moment. I have a friend in The Council. Someone who may be interested in your story and can grant you protection should things go south. After this fellowship departed, an envoy would be sent to her office to inform her of your plight. I hope this friend will fare better in that regard, and that would be enough as an apology."

Another silence ensued. Amaris spent some moments to rethink the situation and the offer. Their pros and cons. While she was a bit frustrated with the Archbishop's words and how it would be hard to clear her name, having his, and the order's support would be very helpful.

"Regarding your proposal... Having your and your friend's word that you will support me when the time comes is more than enough. Should things go as I plan, the corruption behind the incident on the slaver settlement will be brought to light and when it does, the repercussion it would cause will be enough to turn the situation in both our favors in a way it would become incredibly difficult for anyone to do anything against us regarding these matters without drawing suspicion to themselves..." Amaris said with a cunning grin.

"As long as you keep your word, I will keep mine. This opportunity will show itself to be quite vaulable for both of us." she finished, evidently satisfied with the outcome of their talk.

"Thanks to the creator!" He grinned, then walked aside and extended his hand to invite the Sarkaz to leave the room first. "Now go ahead and meet the rest of the group. I am sure they will be happy to see you and the food... is much warmer there."

"I will. You have my thanks, Archbishop. I must admit, our little conversation did make me quite famished." Amaris replied, delicately nodding before she stood up and left the room first.



The introduction was brief. Archbishop Saunière casually returned to The Hall and announced that they had one more person helping the cause before letting Amaris do the introduction herself.
He then approached Inquisitor Friston, placing the tray he was carrying on that table and then whispering something as the man carefully watched the newcomer with a mix of confounded and amused expressions, as if mentally asking the Archbishop; "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

Tan-brown tailcoat with black trims, black vest with golden buttons, burgundy long-sleeved polo innerwear that matched his burgundy slacks, and black boots worn over the slacks.

In no particularly discernible instance, a seat at the Hall's table was empty, and its previous tenant Ludvig was on a corner of the Hall, checking out a painting.
A meadow. Blue sky, clouds, grass fading from golden to lime. Notable animal scratches on the frame of the painting. Tiny cursive watermark at the corner,『 hdg 』. Not ringing any bells.

Walked back towards the table, albeit on the wrong side. He was intending to ask Mirielle something, but it was his luck that Amanita started conversing with an adorably earnest question that he couldn't help himself but butt in.
It might come as a shock to those who assumed he was still in his seat.

^{『 Amanita 』}"Is being slow bad?"

^{『 Ludvig 』} "Not necessarily. Good things take time, like... Like this wine, I suppose."

The cup of mushroom wine in his hand. Still didn't feel the intention to drink it, merely a prop in his hand as if to look cool. A lot more clear-coloured than most wines he's encountered. He was getting a little curious with the taste, having it this close to his presence for this long and getting occasional wafts of that mushroom scent, but there's just something about this wine that's making him stubbornly superstitious.
Just a little sip. Should be fine. Just a tiny little sip.

As he carefully pulled the cup closer to his mouth, the Archbishop comes back in with a tray, and a person whose sight made Ludvig cough and spill a little of the wine on the floor.
He didn't know why, or maybe his memory was too spotty to remember why. His mind just irrationally rang the bells of danger on sight, telling him to quickly distance himself.
Although...
It was being counteracted by another part of his mind that thought, despite the irrational fear and the seeming appearance of a ghost who died by a barrage of impalements, he found her... attractive?

He purses his slightly agape lips, swallows and ekes out a smile as he raises his left hand, waving at the white-haired goth.

---

“Well, lets not forget each other so soon. It would be good to keep an eye on each other during the mission.” said Osric. He took a sip of the mushroom wine. It was sweet. Compared to some of the other questionable ingredients used in cooking, this was one that didn’t deter his taste towards it. Besides, he liked mushrooms.

“From what I can tell, we’re going to be on the road for a while. And while I might not have been there myself, I’ve heard my fair share about Tretagor. Especially since arriving in Westernant a bit ago.” Osric downed the cup of wine, leaving the glass on the table. Osric noticed as someone else caught Ludvig’s attention. That or he was deep in his own thoughts and walked over to a chair and sat down. He settled into his seat and pulled out his rifle, giving it another quick inspection. He didn’t care about politics, so he didn’t invest himself in the conversation with the noble woman and the inquisitor.

Shortly after, the archbishop returned with another. A nun? Initially she looked like one, but it quickly became apparent she was not. Furthermore, her behavior and her appearance didn’t seem to go hand in hand. For one she was as reverend as the clergy. For another, her vestments were adorned with spikes, iron by the looks of it. A lot sharper than one would expect a woman of faith. Then was her introduction. The way she worded it, she seemed to be of some rapport. Osric took a moment to see if he could remember anyone by the name Amaris. One came to mind, but he tossed the idea out. The way this girl was speaking and acting, she couldn’t have been behind the massacre that took place almost ten years ago.

Regardless, Osric stood from his chair and cleared his throat, “Hello there. My name is Osric, gun for hire. Having another set of hands brings me that much more comfort. There is safety in numbers.”

"Uh. Well."

Mirielle certainly didn't expect the sudden question, nor the unusually childish way it was asked. Reminded her of the children of her old orphanage, on the rare occasions she was afforded the chance to visit. Which was weird already, considering the woman before her was definitely an adult.

Thankfully circus man jumped to rescue while she's frozen for a moment, wine cup halfway down to the table. Nodding sagely, she immediately followed that trains of thought as if it wasn't something invented on the fly.

"Of course, it is not always bad or good. Time and place for everything, and while some things needs haste - like our purpose here, for one - on other occasions haste will only make waste."

Nothing particularly revelatory in that statement, but it's all in the presentation. Radiate enough confidence and anything can be made to sounds convincing. The fact that Mirielle wasn't actively aware of it wouldn't stop her from making use of the fact.

Whatever may follow had to be cut short by the door opening, marking the return of the Archbishop back to the hall. Mirielle sat straighter, her attention skipped past the nun for a moment before the incongruity caught up. The once-inquisitor jerked back to the woman clad in spiked robe, visage halfway twisted into a wary snarl before she managed to control herself.

"A penitent!"

Her senses must've dulled if the mere sight of that robe didn't immediately draw her attention. The world faded away as her attention tunneled to the pale woman, how closely she stood to the Archbishop, and a thousand horrible visions where the sinner managed to murder the man in cold blood before anyone can do anything about it.

Yet the seconds ticked by, and none of those visions came to pass. The wariness begrudgingly faded away, sinking into an ever-present pressure at the back of her mind. To always keep some attention onto the penitent, at all times, so that she can immediately act if the sinner did something nefarious or silently disappeared.

Pale yellow eyes flickered to the Archbishop, and then Carmen. This was an unpleasant surprise. A penitent was a sizzling powder keg at best, why was the presence of one deemed necessary? What else were being kept from Mirielle, and the rest of the team?

The ex-inquisitor listened in to the introduction, noting that this one's sounding stable. Those were always the worst kind, you'd never know when they'd decide to stab you in the back. Sometimes the inquisitors in charge wouldn't even notice. And worst of all, seemingly everyone present had no idea how big of a threat a penitent was.

As for the name... rung a bell, but nothing came to mind. Eh, Mirielle can find out later. Preferably grilled out of Carmen, away from prying eyes. She should still had some leverage over the man, even after his promotion.

---

"You brought an interesting perspective there, Baronesa De Valmot. Seeing Helvetia break free from its thousand years of neutrality would be a novel sight. But if that happens, they are the least of my worries compared to the elves, who incessantly scheming behind their mask of nonchalance."

"Well, I brought up Helvetia as an example, but their closest ties IS with Varenheim..." Carnatia trailed off. She then shook her head, "I digress, we should probably stop here. It wouldn't do for us to sour the atmosphere with political talks."

She then refilled her cup of wine, before moving to take a plate of a dessert that would pair well with the wine. Panna Cotta, a traditional Helvetica dessert served with fresh fruit ought to complement the sweet wine.

Eventually, the Archbishop returned, introducing a newcomer by the name of Amaris that would be joining their group. She felt like she had heard that name before.

"I am sure that there are some between you who do know me. To those I assure you I that the successful completion of this mission is as important to you as it is for me, as I am quite sure you might know, and that you will have my full cooperation to ensure that it goes well." Amaris completed giving a quick glance towards a certain white haired woman, who was rather infamous even among the Order's clergy, or famous depending on who you asked, due to her extreme... passion... for her job and observing her reaction, before turning her attention to the rest of the group again.

"Should any of you have any question, please don't be afraid to ask." Amaris said, taking a moment to carefully watch every member's reaction before she gently took a dish for herself together with a glass of wine and started to eat, apparently greatly appreciating every bite and sip.

Considering her words, then as Carnatia thought, she must be someone of renown.

Before long, Mirielle's shout of 'A Penitent' helped Carnatia put things together. Back when she was but a teenager, she remembered an incident that had caused an uproar that even made its way to her Father's desk. A massacre of a border town that was committed by a Sarkaz witch, they said. Of course, the true cause of uproar was the fear that the 'secret' of the dealings between the slavery ring in that town at the government be made public.

Carnatia could understand the rationale behind the deal. Slavery ring was hard to root out and eradicate, thus making one 'pseudo-legal', with the benefits it brought to the ring making it the prominent slave trade in Westernant's underground. That way the largest and most prominent slave trade could was at least known and can be somewhat regulated through their agreement. The government found it preferable than the absolute chaos of the slave trade without that particular ring where most slave trade was funneled into.

Carnatia understood the rationale. As a ruler, it was also one's obligation to consider the greater good and see the big picture, and speaking of big picture, admitting that the town was a cover for a slave trade would result in chaos and public unrest, weakening the social fabric, and thus, so it was that the Sarkaz was charged with slaughter of innocent civilians.

The entire debacle was not ideal, but Carnatia couldn't say whether what was done by the Westernant Government at the time was the wrong choice or a dereliction of their duty. It would in an ideal world, but sadly this was not a world of black and white.

Still, at the very least, Carnatia now was certain that for a 'Penitent' this Amaris woman was not as dangerous nor guilty as her status would suggest.

She then spoke, addressing Mirielle, Carnatia spoke, "A word, Inquisitor. A Penitent, as the name suggest, is someone undergoing a penance, no? I think it's hardly become of you to speak of Miss Amaris with such vehemence and alarm. The fact that she is here presumably meant that this mission is part of her penance."

Carnatia might think that what happened to Amaris was 'correct' in the grand scheme of thing, but she also recognized that she was innocent and a scapegoat, therefore as part of the government who was benefitted by promulgating the narrative of a Sarkaz witch massacring an innocent town, making sure she was treated fairly was the least she could do as compensation, as per her station dictated she ought to do as a noble of Westernant.

Saunière had left, again, leaving Carmen, who seemed in deep thoughts. The Head of Pontificals Guards had prepared himself for this kind of revelation, or at least had predicted it. He already knew about the transfer, and the fact that it would be here of all places, surely it was not a mere coincidence.

He just didn't expect the archbishop would really enlist her in this mission.

It seemed the trouble was already brewing. Mirielle would start it, and that... again, wasn't surprising at all. The outburst was a stark contrast to Amaris' gentle proems.

Surprisingly the female inquisitor was calm enough to let their Sarkaz guest finish her introduction. Not saying the entire process was happening in cordial terms. Mireille was fuming, and Carmen could feel her penetrating gaze already bore through his skull. The Sarkaz's insouciant attitude when she grabbed her plate and started eating was not helping either.

"Please eat first," Carmen said in a slightly detached tone but still smiling at her to maintain the welcoming atmosphere. "This should be a feast, so make yourself comfortable. Questions and answers can wait, but if you insist, I am Carmen Andario Friston, I will be the captain of this mission."

Then he turned to Mirielle and shook his head, signaling to her that "Now is not the right time."

Come to think of it, Saunière should have told her about his plan instead of him. Would make this entire arrangement a lot easier for both of them.

As for him, after a brief consideration, he actually didn't mind The Sarkaz's participation. From the news he had heard, in 9 years she was in The Order's custody, there were almost zero accidents reported regarding this particular individual. It at some point intrigued him, but he just didn't have the chance to know The Order's newest hunting tools better.

Today the chance had presented itself in this very hall, to see the Witch herself in the flesh, and he must admit that he felt slightly bad for her. The moniker felt undeserved, and treating her like a tool feels wrong. It was a real person sitting and eating in front of them, not some uncivilized beast with no conscience. Although he did not discount this sarkaz's sins and her ill-famed ancestry, it was only fair that she was given a chance after almost a decade of relative obedience toward the Order's teachings.

Ludvig walked around the table, opposite side from where Amaris was positioned, and sat back to his seat. Hearing Carnatia's words, he realized his own insensitivity and flinched a bit. Leaning forward with the Djinni's wide-brimmed hat blocking his view.

^{『 Ludvig 』} "urk... I fear I also owe her an apology with my initial reaction.
Sorry. You seem like a good person."

Mana circling around Ludvig's arms, cleaning away spilled wine, as he pushed his cup away and felt some strange need to glance at Mirielle and correct himself.

^{『 Ludvig 』} "I swear I'm not being swayed by her beauty right now. She's-
You seem cordial and well-spoken. Very amicable. You're doing great."

Realizing that he's rambling. Eager to switch the topic. Harking back to the strange veil draping Amaris' head, and the spikes jutting out of it. He's not one to knock others on their fashion sense, but he also felt there was something else about the veil. Sensing hints of mana connecting it and... somewhere in the Archbishop's direction, he couldn't tell from this distance and angle.
It may in fact seem rude, but someone has to bite the bullet at some point. Might as well be him.

^{『 Ludvig 』} "By the way, what's up with the..."

Points above his own head, and shrugs with his hands.

^{『 Ludvig 』} "Interesting headwear."

---

Linceleste smiled at the shroom girl. “Indeed. Not everyone who likes discomfort tastes what things serve to them,” she said with a gentle smile at her. 

As shroom girl had her attention on others. Linceleste began to consume the food she had independently selected. While eating with table manners, she is collecting data from the speech form of her surroundings. She doesn’t want to stick to politics, as for geniuses’ standards they don’t really care about. She only wanted to save her uncle and his relatives, that's all. But she expected that this adventure might give her more exploration experience and cultural knowledge. 

Upon completing her meal, she grabbed her empty cup and cast a water spell with her pointing finger. Making clean and drinkable water for her after a meal.

 As the new member debuted. She just examined her by just looking at her while drinking her cup in a manner. Kept her ears to gather more data for the people who are with her on the table.

"Not an inquisitor. For now." Mirielle corrected, her attention turning to the other redhead in the room. As much as she missed her old title, she wouldn't go as far as impersonating it. "You may not be familiar with it miss, but many accepted the penitent robe to avoid the alternative rather than a desire for repentance. Alas, we knows not what lurked in the heart of men. So until the latter is proven, vigilance must be maintained."

An inquisitive side eye swiveled to the penitent in question, currently savoring the provided meal with undisguised satisfaction. Slightly further away, she caught Carmen shaking his head and inwardly bristled... though eventually Mirielle managed to find her calm.

There will be some talkings later. For now, the penitent was at least calm. Deep breath, bottle in the screaming instinct.

"But very well, far from me to question the Archbishop's desicion. Since you missed our introduction, penitent, I am Mirielle. While I no longer stand amidst the inquisitors I shall be keeping a close eye on you."

That should be all communication the sinner get from her. Best not to listen to whatever they say, they had a propensity for lying after all. And from the look of it... creator grant them all some luck, for common sense apparently was in short supply.

"It is the robe of penitence, an artifact designed as insurance to keep dangerous individuals in control while they prove themselves absolved of sins." Her gaze fell upon the circus clown - was it a clown? -, the disappointment so think it's practically dripping. "Before you ask, I recommend not touching it. The artifact is almost as dangerous as the wearer."

Ludvig felt the coldness of that gaze. Oof, there went his chances. A wry smirk escaped his lips for a bit.

^{『 Ludvig 』} "I wasn't going to ask, but now that you've mentioned it...
That does sound interesting. Rare to see an artifact I've never yet witnessed."

Halfway through getting up from his seat, he was suddenly not there, instead mere inches away diagonally behind Amaris.
Index finger up as if to shush Carmen and/or whoever else dared dissuade him.

^{『 Ludvig 』} "Ah, ah- I'll be fine. Probably."

Steadily moves his hand closer, while asking Amaris.

^{『 Ludvig 』} "May I?"

Before she could really respond, he lightly palms the back of Amaris' neck with his right hand, away from the sight of most others on the table. Just in case blood doesn't splatter all over the food.

^{If that has no reaction, Ludvig's palm starts glowing white, activating『 Heavenly Dragon's Inverse Healing Palm 』to see if it reacts to mana instead.}
@13org

As soon as Ludvig's palm made contact, three spikes shot out to pierce his right hand and push it away. Well within his expectations.
At about exactly the same moment, chains spurted from below his eyesight. The sharp metal sounds they made, grinding into each other and smashing through the thorns that pierced Ludvig's hand, startled him, making him stumble and fall on his bottom.

He sat there on the ground, glanced at his skewered, bleeding hand with the thorns still pegged into it, and then at Amaris' unamused visage towering over him. His eyesight felt dimming, like the only light in the room was the pale woman and her white hair.
He held back a grin as he thought how little he'd regret if she killed him right at that moment. He caught himself thinking this thought, and self-reflected on how incredibly depraved that was, as he listened to her tell-all with veiled reprimands attached.

He stood up, spikes still lodged through his right hand, yet there was no blood on his hand or clothes. It didn't even really seem to bother him, using his same right hand to rub at the back of his own neck.

^{『 Ludvig 』} "Nah, it's my fault. I failed to contain my impulsive thoughts. I didn't mean any disrespect, sorry. I-I think I'll just head out now."

Taps Carmen's shoulder. Almost taps Amaris' shoulder, thankfully remembers and reels back his left hand.

^{『 Ludvig 』} "Sorry, mate. Sorry... Amaris."

Glances at the visibly seething Mirielle and shrugs with his shoulders.
Turns away from everyone, heading towards the nearest door, before glancing back at Carmen.

^{『 Ludvig 』} "Oh. Which way is the kitchen?"

Even if he didn't answer, his face would've given it away.
The door closes, a little trickle of blood smeared on the doorknob.

_{A little while later...}

Kitchen.
Tiny splotches of blood and three iron spikes atop a torn rag on a countertop that Ludvig leaned his back onto. A freshly brewed cup of coffee in hand, three cubes of sugar and a tablespoon of milk stirred into it, in a ceramic cup with a saucer plate. He slowly sipped then sighed away the heat, while glancing out at a window.

^{『 Ludvig 』} "Adele's daughter... Amanita... Amaris...
That can't be a coincidence."

Another sip.

The grinding scream of the chains masked the noise of a chair abruptly shoved backward as the owner stood up with haste. Mirielle's eyes momentarily widened in shock when the redhead vanished and reappeared behind the penitent, blatantly ignoring her warning. Why he's taunting her in that manner she had no idea, but that didn't mean the sinner appreciated the gesture.

The silence that followed was deafening, simmering tension almost palpable on the skin. Mirielle's hand paused halfway reaching for a sword that wasn't there, creeping toward the nearest butter knife as the penitent monologued her history. A flash of recognition, eyes narrowing in grim determination... then it all deflated the moment the redhead stood back up not even bloodied.

Well, the spike stabbing through his hand wasn't drawing blood somehow. Of course. Someone picked by the Archbishop cant be any ordinary joe.

He retreated with an apology, though whether the transgression was forgived or not was up to debate. It certainly wouldn't be forgotten anytime soon, especially by Mirielle. Exhaling a deep breath, the ex-inquisitor carefully settled the knife onto the table before returning to her seat. The creaking of the wooden legs a lot louder now that there's no cacophony of grinding metal to mask it off.

"So it's the Blackthorn Witch. Never thought I'd see you in person." The initial hostility seemed to have receded for now, bottled and hidden under the surface. Yet only a fool would've thought that it had vanished. Despite her own misgivings however, credit where it's due. Molestation was a serious breach of dignity, and people had suffered more than a couple light stab for it. Amaris had been rather merciful in her warning, all things considered. "I would've expected you to run him through... good job holding back."

That said, Mirielle wouldn't readily believe everything the sinner said. Slavery ring? Condoned by the government? Hogwash, the Order would've stormed the parliament if that's the case. There were lines that one should never cross, no matter how great the temptation was. Whatever the goal of the backstory was, there must be something greater at play.

She'll find out eventually. No nefarious plot can be hidden forever from her ever-vigilant watch.

---

“Well, I can’t say you’ve made a good first impression with that.” said Osric. He didn’t seen Ludvig leave his chair, but her did catch the lightning fast response Amaris had when he suddenly appeared behind and reaching towards her. He chuckled at what had happened. It looked close, but it didn’t appear that the chain caught the charismatic man. It would be bad form if either party had already offended their own team before the adventure began.

However, Osric’s thoughts quarreled when it turned out that this Amaris person was, in fact, the same Amaris that annihilated that border town. However, the news of it being a slaver city was new to Osric. All he knew about it was the carnage and merciless nature of the incident. Not that there were any ulterior motives for justice. After learning the church had managed to secure the sarkaz he left it at their word. It would be a lie that this new information didn’t spoil some of the reassurance he had when he heard of Amaris’ participation. While he wasn’t there personally, he was in the area, and the stories told about it was gruesome. It was hard to take her at her word. Osric did his best to hide this fault in confidence, turning to the table to pour himself another glass of the mushroom wine.

Osric turned to see that Ludvig had left, “well. I have to say that is quite the story. I’m not sure I can say much about it. Here’s to working well together.” Osric lifted his glass slightly in his meager one sided toast. Even if this girl was the sarkaz that destroyed that town, her attitude even when she defended herself was very cordial. He found no reason to be anything but worthy of her trust in return.

『 Ludvig 』 "Oh. Which way is the kitchen?"

"Straight ahead, and then go to the right. The infirmary is on the left wing of the temple."

And then that weird performer was gone.

If it wasn't for his hat (which he had put back on when done with his meal) the facepalm would be epic. What was that just a moment ago? In his entire life as a noble and officer who had seen many kinds of soldiers, not once had he ever seen someone act so ungentlemanly as if all common sense had been temporally absent in his head.

Where did Saunière get this guy? Yes, in the circus, but why?

Despite the inappropriate and shocking turns of events, Carmen noted that the guy moved faster than the wind. Maybe that explains his eccentricities. To think this man was just a mere circus performer was quite a waste of talent, he thought.

A moment passed, and Carmen still mulled over the recent mishaps, meanwhile, Amaris told the rest of her story. He didn't put any thought into it, it sounded like one side of a story that made a lot of sense but was unverified nonetheless.

"This kind of mischief will not happen again." He said finally, partly to Amaris as an indirect apology, and to everyone else, as a light warning. "I am sure everyone here knows what is appropriate. I don't take ignorance as an excuse."

Standing up and taking a moment to fix his hat, Carmen added. "I will head back to my room first. If I am allowed to give a word of wisdom, don't stay up late, we will be leaving early this morning."

When walking through the corridor to the dormitory floor, Carmen wondered if he should employ a more traditionalistic approach for this mission. This new team looked like one hell of a group to work with.

---

For Linceleste perspective. It was Ludvig’s fault for diving into his curiosity that led him to get harm despite the warning given by Lady Marielle. She was interested too in that artifact but couldn’t help it just to stare due to how hazardous it was when getting close to it. Despite those chaotic scenes that messed up everyone's meal. Linceleste was just chilling in her seat, done with her meal, and just fully watching the incident.

She decided to pay a visit to that circus man in the kitchen to check his wound as Carmen pointed the way in. 

Upon entering the kitchen. She saw him sipping some coffee instead of going to the infirmary and treating his wounds.

“If I were you, I would go to the infirmary instead of here sipping coffee alone.” Linceste talked to Ludwig. "Sir Friston said. We will depart early morning." She continued.

Speak of the devil's daughter, Ludvig thought.
No, he internally took it back. Even that was too mean.

The back of his right hand should already be facing Linceleste the moment he was in her sights. Evidently the spikes aren't skewering it anymore, neither present were any wounds they would have left. In their place were indented scars, spots of thin skin slightly paler than himself.

^{『 Ludvig 』} "I'm fine. See?"

Wiggles his three other fingers that aren't holding up the coffee cup.

^{『 Ludvig 』} "Nothing wrong with sipping coffee alone... Unless you came here to make it less alone?"

Flapping his left hand, urging her to approach.

^{『 Ludvig 』} "Come. You're not too young to drink coffee, are you?
Wait, actually don't drink coffee. You'd want to sleep early for tomorrow. There's some milk on the pot here, it's just been pasteurized..."

Grabs a cup and a ladle, fills the cup with warm milk, hands it to Linceleste.

^{『 Ludvig 』} "By that, I mean boiled. Should be safe to drink.
I suppose it's been safe to drink from the start but eh, can't hurt to be safer."

Leans back onto the cupboard. Takes a final, huge sip from his cup of coffee.

^{『 Ludvig 』} "You definitely have your mother's hair. Not her eyes though, hers were a lot more... striking."