---

Carnatia turned to Ludvig, giving him somewhat of an exasperated expression.

"You just finished saying that it sounds like a trap. And yet your opinion changed a scant few moments later? What insight have you gleamed, exactly?"

The—admittedly preposterous idea that the peasant possessed some mental interference skill—crossed her mind. It was unlikely, for if he had, he would used it on the soldiers before he was hanging. Still, Carnatia decided it was better to be safe than sorry and thus focused her mind once more, entering her zen-focus state. It was not a surefire way to avoid mental attack, but a focused and clear mind did help on some occasions. The encounter with the phantoms in the Land of Twilight came to mind.

"Pardon sir. Me name's Dromele. I'snt me intention to be suspicious with words, but I wish no harm, sir, nor the harm for meself. Guiding you and yous to a trap's never crossed me mind. Please hit me not for that, I just want to repay your kindness. Cuff me hands if you like, or put me down, and tell me to begone, and I shant trouble you no more."

The prisoner—Dromele—had made his case, and Carnatia doubted any further questioning would yield any result at this point. The fact remained that he still had not answered some of her questions, such as where exactly he was leading them and what 'not cheery' things he was about to show them.

"Captain, are we sure trusting Dromele to lead us is for the best? While it is true that we have to gain some distance from the garrison, perhaps it's wiser not to go where Dromele attempt to lead us until we can verify the veracity of his claim."

@Mas Bagus@Cale Henituse

"Captain, are we sure trusting Dromele to lead us is for the best? While it is true that we have to gain some distance from the garrison, perhaps it's wiser not to go where Dromele attempt to lead us until we can verify the veracity of his claim."

Carmen slowed his horse.

The crossroad had already been behind them since a moment ago, and now they are riding toward a path of uncertainty. Although his hunch told him that this Dromele fellow was trustworthy, the skepticism has its merit.

"Lady Carnathia has a point there, Dromele." Carmen did not look back when he said that, his voice was calm and patient, that kind of patience that deep down hinted leniency you shouldn't cross.

"You have nothing to fear from us. And God is my witness, there will be no harm to those who speak the truth."

And under that charismatic gesture, the peasant finally wavered.

"It's... bodies s-sire. Five of em, tied on poles. Been rotted badly when I found them sir, but them--- I mean some of them wore same colors and priest clothing like you and Master Thomas wore. Pardon me words sir, but they've been broken like pit-roasted piglets, me thought they'd been dead for weeks."

There was a profound silence for a while. The horse remained trotting, but Carmen looked like he was sitting still. Until he inquired monotonely:

"Are you sure the corpses were them? You said you saw Paladin's entourage before in Katwiz, is there any of the bodies that matched with the priest and priestess you saw earlier?"

"Entrouge, sire?"

"Entourage, his friends."

"That I can't say for sure, sire, for crows've pecked their faces, or-or their faces were burned badly."

Carmen was silent again. Inside his head, a mixture of dejection and anger started to swirl. The first party he blamed was that damn elf from the council. If only she hadn't stalled the mission, maybe, just maybe, those priests could be saved.

"And you will lead us to them?"

"Ye-yes sire." still stammering, the peasant continued. "I am sorry for your loss sire. Again, I didn't mean to lie to you, but folks here including meself had seen the soldiers beatin' and killin' fellows who found their dead friends on many occasions, blaming us for siding with the rebels in mad anger. Sire, you wont be hittin me, aren't you?"

"No," Answered Carmen, still not looking back. There was another silence until he turned to Carnathia.

"What do you think, Baronesa Carnathia?"

The air around Carnatia seemed to differ as she asked Ludvig about whatever insight he gleaned. For a moment it gave him goosebumps, for it was the exact same air with which Carnatia sliced that hangman's calves with pure haste and accuracy.
Surely she wouldn't dare, would she? Not with two people and a horse galloping between them, surely?

He sighed relief as her attention moved back to Carmen, but the air wasn't fading. Ludvig at this point was curious; it seemed like bloodlust, but it may be more accurate to call a zone or a flow state, when one's focus and senses are heightened. Quite nostalgic for him; although to see someone control it, forcibly put themselves in that state--even by using mana--is an underrated feat.

Not like anyone would know, especially those two behind his horse, still bickering about he supposes whether or not they should've killed those soldiers back there. He rubs the back of his horse's nape, urging it to slow down a bit as he stands.
He stands, on top of the moving horse.
He walks back and sits on its hip, cross-legged. Right arm elbowing his knee, supporting his cheek.

To call it bickering is disservice as Amaris unloads with a wave of emotions. Indeed a topic too deep in her heart, though Ludvig felt it to be a little misguided.
Also he found it slightly hilarious that the roles seem incredibly reversed, just based on their outward personalities.

^{『 Ludvig 』}
He gestures his right thumb across his neck with a snap at the end. During his monologue, he unsheathes his dagger and spins it on his left palm.

^{『 Ludvig 』}
Sheathes the dagger back and shrugs.

^{『 Ludvig 』}
There's no telling if he's speaking from experience or just acting to look cool in front of the women--an effect that has to be currently being actively countered by unintendedly insulting said women.

Before either of them can begin mulling anything over, he speaks again.

^{『 Ludvig 』}
He glances back for a bit, making sure Carmen's not paying attention.

^{『 Ludvig 』}

It didnt take long for a newcomer to join the little bubble that inadvertently formed between the ex-inquisitor and the penitent, Ludvig showing a frankly impressive feat of acrobatic by treating moving horse like it was flat ground. Apparently he'd been paying attention to their conversation, or at least enough that he could chip in.

With a rather concerning opinion. Why did it sounds like it was backed by experience?

"That... doesnt sounds feasible." She subconsciously glanced at Amaris, as if to gauge the latter's reaction. "Just like cancer, mister Ludvig, excising evil must be done thoroughly. Otherwise the scattered remnant will simply break apart and rebuild in different places." She ignored the jab about cursed robes. No one gets punished for fighting evil. At least, that's how it should be... bah, she shouldn't be doubting her Order in the first place. "Besides, evil contaminates. Those who light great pyres of blood come to love its warmth, and no other heat can chase away the chill. If the leader is guilty as a source of evil then the followers too are guilty of perpetuating it. When it comes the time for judgment, neither must be spared lest the smaller evil eventually grow into a greater one."

If there's any irony in her statement, Mirielle was seeing none of it.

Ludvig's fist sank deeper into his cheek, closing his eyes and tilting his head in thought.

^{『 Ludvig 』}
He inhaled, needing to catch some air after that lengthy ramble. The moment of relative silence allowed him to rethink the other party's position, and as he did so his head immediately perked up and straightened.

^{『 Ludvig 』}
A nonchalant thumb up from the right hand still elbowing his knee, while glancing at Amaris.

^{『 Ludvig 』}

---

Carnatia clicked her tongue as she saw Ludvig approaching Mirielle and Amaris instead of answering her line of inquiry.

At least they were finally getting some answers from Dromele.

"Ye-yes sire." still stammering, the peasant continued. "I am sorry for your loss sire. Again, I didn't mean to lie to you, but folks here including meself had seen the soldiers beatin' and killin' fellows who found their dead friends on many occasions, blaming us for siding with the rebels in mad anger. Sire, you wont be hittin me, aren't you?"

"No," Answered Carmen, still not looking back. There was another silence until he turned to Carnathia.

"What do you think, Baronesa Carnathia?"

Carnatia supposed she could somewhat understand now why Dromele was acting nervous, however...the fact remained that he had exhibited behaviours that would invite suspicion.

Ideally, Carnatia would have preferred to make sure the information was valid, but it was not like they knew the lay of the land to just go off in a random direction and hope for the best.

Turning to Carmen, she replied, "Ideally, we should make camp where you and Lady Mirielle could use your ah...expertise...to question Dromele. I understand that ascertaining people's claims is a core skill of people in your line of work. However, I will say that considering our lack of information regarding the current state of Sielse, wandering off without a guide hoping to find a good spot to camp seems equally foolish. I say we should let Dromele lead us to where the corpses are."

"Ideally, we should make camp where you and Lady Mirielle could use your ah...expertise...to question Dromele. I understand that ascertaining people's claims is a core skill of people in your line of work. However, I will say that considering our lack of information regarding the current state of Sielse, wandering off without a guide hoping to find a good spot to camp seems equally foolish. I say we should let Dromele lead us to where the corpses are."

Dromle was understandably disturbed when Carnathia spoke about 'expertise'. He eyed the Captain's back, face contorted with fear, and he appeared like someone who prepared to jump off and rush toward the forest. But moments passed and he didn't make a run for it yet. He had seen a glimpse of what this party was capable of, and he wondered what was his chance of escaping them if a trained soldier could easily be intercepted?

Thankfully the man in charge was patient. And the lady who suggested interrogating him thoroughly couldn't seem to make up her mind, and so, once again Dromle finally found himself spared from a difficult predicament.



After giving an affirmative nod to the lady, the Captain asked him.

"How far we are from the victim?"

"Not too far sire, just two leagues more."

"Right." Camen said, now looking back at his parties. "Keep your eyes open, and look for movements in the trees."

Thankfully their vigilance was for naught. After twenty minutes of uneventful ride, Dromele asked to dismount from the hose and guide them by walking. He looked strangely enthusiastic when his thin fingers pointed at a plot of blackened land.

The site was a clearing located on the right side of the road. On there five poles stood sturdily but seemed to be placed irregularly. From this distance, Carmen thought they were scarecrows, but as they rode closer the smell became more nauseating, the Captain finally forced himself to confront with the grim reality.

Camen had thought that Dromele's description was hyperbolic, but this... this was worse. Five bodies, tied to wooden logs with faces mangled beyond recognition either by rot or injuries. Their bodies were blackened, not by the natural decomposition, but rather by soot and charrings.

They were tied on those logs, likely with wetted rope, with legs suspended a few spans above the ground. Some of the limbs and body parts had been skeletonized or went missing, probably picked off by wild animals. Hairs had been burned away, leaving only leathery-black skin beneath. Some were naked, while some were still robed with tattered blue clothing with patterns both Carmen and Mirielle knew all too well.

Their partially skeletonized faces told the same tale about the cruelty of their latest moment. All had their jaws wide open, and there seemed to be a handful of strange soot in their mouth. Some of the soot could be found in their eye sockets, noses, and cuts in their bodies.

The soot was still emitting a faint trail of smoke when Carmen dared himself to inspect them closer. There was a moment of silence before the captain took a step back.

"Who did this? Why them? They were good people, they don't deserve this..." he wailed, taking off his hat and placing it in his chest, asking nobody in particular. But Dromele the peasant, did not waste a moment to clear himself of potential blaming.

"I--I don't know sire. I found them three days ago and---"

Carmen tried to gather his courage and drew his sabre to cut the rope, releasing the priest's body from their restless bindings. Meanwhile, his mind wandered back to Helvetia, to the soldiers they spared, and to the hellish glade he was in right now.

---

Linceleste has been silenced during her ride. Hoping that those bodies weren't her uncle and aunt. Still, she felt bad for those who were victimized by a cruel punishment. For those who did humanitarian work, they don't deserve this punishment. 

As they arrived from the site. The smell of bodies overwhelms the surroundings. The site has no life as the ground is filled with blight and an erected pole where bodies have been impaled to it. Linceleste changed her hairstyle into a ponytail and wrapped her nose and mouth with her handkerchief. She brought herself down to her horse and proceeded to collect data from the corpses. She approached Carmen as the Skipper unbound the corpse and struggled from the ties. 

Ludvig left, whether scared off by Amaris or did so on his own whim, but not before dropping one last infuriating remark. Mirielle could only let out an offended "Huh?!" before he's too far off for normal conversation, leaving her to fume by her lonesome.

"Ignore him." She turned to glare at the penitent on her side. "You definitely did not."

*****

After a short ride away, they finally reached the spot the peasant led them to. The stench hits Mirielle long before it came to view, and although that was enough for her mood to drop into the lowest today the actual sight of it was enough to drive her into unbridled rage.

"This... Sacrilege!" She yelled, almost spooking her own horse. The ex-inquisitor was quick to dismount, even Amaris temporarily forgotten as she briskly closed the distance to the macabre site. The ground already long since cooled, yet none of it seemed to match the chill that gripped her chest.

They were too late, and the congregation paid the price.

"...may the Creator safeguard your souls, in the journey beyond to His hallowed halls." She stopped before the closest corpse, kneeling into a prayer. Save for the initial outburst, Mirielle's outward reaction was rather muted as opposed to their team captain though it said nothing of the cold fury blazing within. "Rest now, brothers and sisters. This injustice will be righted. On this I swear."

"Hells and damnation, I agree with you-" Mirielle hissed through gritted teeth, slowly turning to the penitent. "...Amaris. Anyone capable of such cruelty are better off dead, you do not need to rub it in."

The dull thuds of objects hitting the ground rang in the background, interspaced with the metallic scrape of Carmen's saber. Amaris was before her, dangerously available as a target to lash out to. Mirielle closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and counting to ten. By the time she reopened her eyes, her slipping self-control had reasserted and all the anger bottled within.

Ready to burst when, and only when, she met the devils responsible over the deaths.

"I- I apologize. I should not take this out on you." She coughed awkwardly, averting her eyes and shuffling away to help Carmen with the remaining corpses. "Yes, you have a good point. Even if they're not directly involved they must know something, this spot is too close to their outpost for them to be completely unrelated... little Lin, is there anyone you recognize among these folks?"

Rezello

---

As quickly as the battle had begun, it was over. While Ludvig and Mirielle handled the musketeers - one of which had tried to flee, but was quickly stopped - Carmen and Carnatia tried their hand at interrogating the pinned sergeant. Unfortunately, they weren't able to get much out of him beyond a few vulgarities and accusations, the latter of which at least gave a small amount of insight into the region's current troubles - even if they did ultimately result in more questions than answers. Amanitia's spores relaxed the sergeant's attitude somewhat, but only served to reveal an apparent lack of his preferred alcohol. As the man continued to ramble, Rezello dismissed his weapon, making his way back to his horse as the peasant they had rescued from strangulation approached to plead with Carmen.

Rezello mounted his horse, looking back at the subdued soldiers as some of his party members brought up the possibility of killing them off. It would be easy to do so at this point, but ultimately the consensus was to leave them alive. Didn't stop them from continuing to discuss it, though; if nothing else, it was useful to establish their positions on such matters before it inevitably comes up again. Rezello had killed before, but it had always been thugs, highwaymen, bandits hiding out in dungeons and ruins waiting to ambush explorers and adventurers less capable than himself, not soldiers. Not that these ones acted much differently than his former adversaries.

In the meantime, Carmen and Carnatia had been pressing the recipient of their rescue for more information about where he was leading them. His reluctance to fully explain what it was he was bringing them to had incurred suspicion, and though Rezello doubted that the man would lead them into harm's way right after they had saved him, caution wasn't entirely unwarranted. Men acting in desperation rarely act rationally, and from what they had seen this region was certainly in desperate times, to say the least.

When they arrived at their destination, it became evident why Dromele was reluctant to describe what stood before them. Corpses desecrated by flame and decay, the signs of a gruesome end evident even on what little remained of their carcasses. The few charred remnants of their clothing marked the dead's allegiance to the Order; whoever did this clearly had not taken kindly to Paladin Thomas's activity in the area.

Perhaps they should have killed the soldiers after all.

_{Twenty minutes ago...}

Recognizing the veiled threat, and for some reason feeling unusually excited by it--possibly due to the prospect of death--Ludvig's eyes widened, his mouth grinned menacingly as he let out a sinister chuckle--
He covered his mouth, his face back to normal, glancing at Amaris, then Mirielle, then the ground rapidly scrolling beneath their horses' feet. He clasped both sides of his head and sighed, still staring dead at the ground.

^{『 Ludvig 』}
He glances back at Amaris and smiles, indicating his return to normalcy, although that didn't last long and his smile faded as he spoke further. His arms crossed, before his right palm moved to caress the right side of his jawline.

^{『 Ludvig 』}
Ludvig's mesmerizing blue eyes glance coldly at Amaris, before switching to Mirielle and smiling gently. He takes a slight bow, much he could do while sitting cross-legged.

^{『 Ludvig 』}
He stands up on his galloping horse, walks two steps to the front and gently pats the horse's neck urging it to pick up the pace a little to move back closer to Carmen's row, as he finally sits properly on the saddle of his horse, or at least for a tiny moment until he raised his left leg, his knee supporting his chin and left arm.
He glanced at Carmen and spoke, but really he's just mumbling to himself.

^{『 Ludvig 』}
_{The present.}

Ludvig's sleep was abruptly stirred by Mirielle yelling 'sacrilege', and the sight and the reality of their situation came fully into view.
Regrettably he didn't feel anything by it. People die, it happens. Some, in more gruesome ways than others. He felt only apathy towards the dead, but he didn't need to hear their words to know what the two members of the Order must be feeling.
There was a bud he felt a strong need to snip, and quickly, but there was only so much he could do. He rolled off from atop his horse, walked slowly towards the two ex-inquisitors, brushing past Amaris without a glance.

^{『 Ludvig 』}

"I am sorry for your loss..."

said Amaris, and Carmen, in his silence, expressed his grief in return.

"Are we sure our paladin and his companions are among the bodies? Even if they are not, I think this changes how we will deal with Ealdorman and his forces, do you agree? They are the only ones who would be capable of such, judging by the previous methods of execution they used and the power they seem to hold at the moment."

Asked Amaris after a moment. Carmen shooked his head but did not answer with words, for he was unsure what to answer. At this point, the bodies have been too damaged to identify.
If there was a question in his mind, that would be the whereabouts of the three others. Only five met their demise in this place, could that mean three others made it to the border? Or hiding somewhere? Or captured but alive?

One question developed into multiple conjectures, yet one critical question remained; were Paladin Thomas and Madam Ursula among the five who perished?

His thoughts were distracted by Mirille's outburst. That rapidly shifted from prayer to the promise of vengeance. Vengence, Carmen thought, wondering to who they shall direct their wrath. Amaris proposed that the culprits were the soldiers, and Mirielle did not find the idea implausible.

Revenge. Someone finally said that in his support of Mirielle's intention. A nod to a carnage they should have committed earlier this morning.

But what about him? What was Carmen intent on doing after witnessing this... undeserved cruelty?

He was still cutting the rope of the second victim when he glanced at Rezello. "Master Rezello, do you have something we can use to dig?"

With Mirielle's help, they almost released every corpse from their bindings. Insects and other tinny corpse eaters crawled out as the bodies hit the ground. The sight and smell were so horrible Carmen tried his hardest to not vomit.

@Valkon

"It is retribution, not vengeance." Mirielle curtly answered, huffing as she tenderly pulled the corpses to lay them side by side. Up close the signs of abuse were so much worse even through weeks of rot, and the stench enough to knock out regular people. To her part, she only wrinkled her nose and continued on the grim task.

"You got shot just a few minutes ago, mister Ludvig, and powered through despite. Do not sell yourself short." She placed the last body, one hand halfway rising to wipe her brows before realizing the presence of sodden pulp of corpse-fluid smeared all over the gloves. Clicking her tongue, Mirielle settled for clasping her hands together and out of the way. Might as well check the bodies, cant get any filthier than this. "I will not demand you to join me regardless, but be aware that you are already involved for travelling in this group. I doubt whoever came after Sir Thomas' entourage will make any distinction between you and I."

Kneeling down yet again, she took a closer look at the bodies. Muttered a small prayer for forgiveness before touching at the facial orifices. It's already clear that they've been left out here for quite some time, they should've long since cooled. What caused the smoke to continue waft out?

They're near-completely blind right now. Any clues may be indispensable for the coming days, for Mirielle sensed bloody conflicts in the horizon.

"Spread out, seek more information!" She hollered to the rest of the group. This macabre display was a warning. To who or for what purpose, hopefully it'll come clear. "You there, peasant. Explain who those soldiers are, and who they're fighting so desperately."

---

"I- I apologize. I should not take this out on you." She coughed awkwardly, averting her eyes and shuffling away to help Carmen with the remaining corpses. "Yes, you have a good point. Even if they're not directly involved they must know something, this spot is too close to their outpost for them to be completely unrelated... little Lin, is there anyone you recognize among these folks?"

Linceleste started to examine the bone structure and bodily tissue of the deceased individuals. In terms of memory, she has strong photogenic memory, which is why she excels at her tasks, including the magic embedded in the artifacts. In her self-field research, she studied biology after growing up from being a bookworm child, as she had been in her earlier years, as well as the books purchased by her dear father, regardless of their cost. She took her time to scrutinize matching bone structure and her photogenic memory of her uncle and auntie without a sign of discomfort and do it professionally. It seemed that she hadn't what she was looking for. They are instead other members of the order.

"These victims seemed to be other members of the Order. Skipper... Lady Mirielle... I have a photogenic memory of my uncle Thomas and aunt Ursula. Their bone structure didn't match from my dear uncle and aunt." Lincelete spoke to Carmen and Mirielle with confidence.

The ice princess proceeded to the peasant and looked on him. "Tell me more about the witch from the mountain, Mister."

^{『 Mirielle 』}

"I will not demand you to join me regardless, but be aware that you are already involved for travelling in this group. I doubt whoever came after Sir Thomas' entourage will make any distinction between you and I."

^{『 Ludvig 』}
The comment preceding that fluttered Ludvig's heart a bit, while he did indeed realize it was too self-deprecating even for him or for an excuse to basically 'skip work'.
Watching her little plight, he knelt beside her, conjured up a plain white handkerchief, and gently rubbed it on Mirielle's eyebrows, trying not to obscure her sight.

^{『 Ludvig 』}
With a little demonstration of the stains on the handkerchief just disintegrating into cyan motes of light. He then waves the handkerchief once, obscuring it with his hand, et voilà the handkerchief is gone. He hoped it gave her just a little bit of levity, as he stands up and gently pats Mirielle's shoulder one time.

^{『 Ludvig 』}
_Then...

Two more corpses strapped onto burnt posts. Leaving Mirielle alone for now, Ludvig walked towards one of the posts, unsheathes his dagger and, in alarming speed, slashed three times to undo the ropes and caught the falling corpse by the neck.
The half-rotten, half-burnt carcass of a cleric, its head drooping backwards and presenting its blackened missing face towards Ludvig. A slight grimace emerged in his face as he laid the corpse gently down the ground. It does not look any less appealing up close, he thought.

Onward to the last corpse, Ludvig pondered on the efficiency of his sword-path and opted to slice all the ropes with a swift slash through one wavy line. He didn't get to catch that corpse as it went down, stirring up more of the ash and soot that piled on the ground and creating a little smoke cloud. He shielded his eyes then waved the smoke away.
This is definitely not his best work, he thought. He deals best with the living.