---

Carnatia grimaced as she saw the grim scene in front of her. If she were still that sheltered Duke's daughter, she probably would have barfed at the sight. Even now, somewhat 'seasoned' after all her adventures as an adventurer, she still felt somewhat nauseous at the scent of burnt corpse mixed with the rot and decay.

Linceleste and Mirielle was understandably upset, though Carnatia made a mental note to keep an eye on those two so they would not act rashly. Righteous fury was all well and good, but the last thing they needed while on a mission in a foreign—possibly hostile—land was inadvertently escalating conflict in pursuing just vengeance with reckless abandon.

"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." Amaris asked, looking to Carmen with a grim expression.

"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?"

It was then, that Carnatia caught the conversation between Amaris and Mirielle regarding the probable culprit of the massacre.

Her eyes narrowed. These sorts of circumstantial almost-baseless accusations were exactly the sort of thing they should avoid. Schooling her expression, she chimed in carefully, "While those soldiers were a likely suspect, the fact of the matter is that we do not yet know enough about the situation in Sielse. Those soldiers mentioned traitors and a witch. So at the very least we know of three factions at play in Sielse, any one of them could be responsible for the deed. It would be better for us to approach this situation without preconception lest we inadvertently let the guilty party escape our notice."

Then, turning to Ludvig, she added, "On that note, though, I am of one mind that seeking justice by our own hands should not be our main priority currently. Not out of any argument from morality, mind you, I fully agree that the perpetrator of such an abhorrent massacre should be brought to justice, however, the mandate we were given as Pontificials is an observation mission, not a punitive one. Once we've ascertained the situation, we are to report to the case officer for further action. To eschew that mandate in favour of pursuing retribution by our own hands would be a dereliction of our duty. In the best-case scenario, we would deprive the relevant stakeholders of a measured response to the situation, in the worst-case scenario, we perish and no information would reach them. Our first priority, first and foremost, was to have a clear picture of what happened."

"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."

Even if she did have photogenic memory, Carnatia doubted any accurate comparison between the bones currently laid out in front of them and Linceleste's memory could be made, considering it would be hard to have an accurate depiction of one's skeletal configuration underneath the muscle, cartilage, and so on. Unless Linceleste actually had seen the bones of her Uncle and Aunt, Carnatia remained sceptical of the claim.

Regardless, bringing that up would serve no purpose. Either way, there was no way to reliably confirm whether Paladin Thomas was among the corpses or not. Therefore, considering the objective of their mission, going with the assumption that Paladin Thomas was not among them and attempting to find out more information was probably for the best. It would also keep morale up if nothing else.

As Linceleste and Mirielle questioned Dromele about the witch and the soldiers respectively, Carnatia added, "While we are at it, sir, perhaps you can tell us about whom exactly the soldiers meant when they say traitors."

"You there, peasant. Explain who those soldiers are, and who they're fighting so desperately."

In front of Barking Mirielle, Dromele looked like a dried twig ready to be blown away by a strong gust.

"Re-revolutionist!" He stammered, and the next that came from his mouth was pretty much standard knowledge. "From the capital, sent here many years ago, been clashin' with the rebels for years also, and--."

Before he could finish, another question came. This time from the young blondie gal who had been easily quiet since they left the village outskirts. The way she looked at him further exacerbated the tension he felt.

"Tell me more about the witch from the mountain, Mister."

And then more came, this time from that lady earlier.
"While we are at it, sir, perhaps you can tell us about whom exactly the soldiers meant when they say traitors."

Dromele did not like it, not at all. The way they looked at him reminded him of the way the soldiers questioned him before they dragged him away to be hanged. He was a simple hunter with a simple wish to feed his family, he only knew how to live his ordinary life and survive. And the thing about surviving made something inside him click.

"How I supposed to know?! I ain't omniscience! This witch and this traitor, don't know it all! might be something the soldiers accuse us, ordinary folks just a fun of it? Who knows!?"

The outburst surprised Dromele to his core, and he was quick to apologize. Eyes were downcast, but his resolution to not divulge more remained unchanged.

"Please ask no more of those matters, good sir, lady. I wish no harm to me or me family. Both the rebels and the soldiers are vicious they wouldn't hesitate to burn the houses and fellow who tells words to the wrong kind of folks."

He looked at Carmen with hope. "Pardon sire, but I have fulfilled the end of me bargain. May I go back to Olbei? Me wife and son must be worried sick right now."

Captain Friston stood up. For a painful moment, he had endured listening to Carnathia's long-winded speech, urging the rest of the group to not seek retribution. For the record, he actually agreed with her about the importance of understanding the clear picture, but when he recalled her speech about not seeking justice and the mission parameter, something inside him started to boil. The last straw was when she reminded them that they were obliged to report to the 'Case officer'.

"No! No! We report to The Order!" he refuted abruptly eyes gazed sharply at Carnathia, and for that brief moment, it looked like Carmen was in terrible psychological pain. "Not some elven woman who thinks she knows it all. It is absurd! If only this damned Case officer did not stall our mission with unnecessary precautions, those... they could still be saved. What is the merit of following order if it impedes us from preventing unnecessary death?"

It was the first time Captain Carmen Friston showed his stern side before he retreated back to a melancholic man the party knew too well, sad, troubled, but reasonable.

"But you are right. We must not act rashly before we know what is happening to the fellowship, and the way I see it our investigation is far from finished."

He detached the lantern from his belt and then turned to the peasant.

"You can go now, Dromele." Carmen said wearily. "May your path be safe and we shall meet again in better circumstances."

"...bone structure?" Mirielle parrotted with thinly veiled skepticism. Great, this one's unreliable. Oh well, it's probably a bit too much of an ask for the girl. "Good job. We... should move on."

Her investigation result on the corpse was... less than satisfactory. The soot felt unusual somehow, but not in any manner she can articulate. And then there'd Ludvig being touchy all of sudden, earning him a glare as she flinched. Clicking her tongue in annoyance, Mirielle cut her finagling short and stood back up. This wasn't working, a specialist was needed and she doubt there's one in a few hundred miles.

"I am not suggesting us to engage in mindless slaughter, lady de Valmont." Replied the ex-inquisitor, a bit offended that the noble would even imply such. "Merely pointing at the best course of further investigation. If you hadn't notice, this site is a dead end."

Not like they have tried too hard to look, but two weeks of bad weather had its way to wash away potential evidences. The local peasant was at the end of his usefulness too, likely not having much more beyond bits of rumors. Probably no time to gossip when he had to constantly worry about his next meal.

"Very well, you have been most helpful. A word of advice, you should take your family into hiding. Those soldiers looked like the vindictive sort, best to be prudent. Take care, good man."

Frustration welled up and subsequently bottled in. This really wasn't her day, to think that the witch's words resonated the most with her. Despite her own words earlier, Mirielle couldn't help but worry. How long will the trail of corpses be, by the time they're finished with the mission?

May the Creator have mercy on their souls.

---

It seemed that didn't go well. Maybe she needed to be more detailed, but nah. She kept her mouth shut and took it. She looked at something that was made of wood. She put her palm on the wooden texture and cast a circular spell. Pulling out a stick that is big enough to be a handle. She then rubbed some sturdy rock material to pull out a thing like a shove shaped from her another circular spell. Her mana was consumed for doing that method. By joining the two materials and turning them into stoned shovel. As the party just kept briefing the outcome. The ice princess started to look for good ground. A sound of digging started to be heard by her party members. She been good at digging the ground as she been doing it for the spices. The dead is needed to bring back to earth as it should be. After that, let those religious fellowmen perform funeral rite for them.

Possibly forgoing any respectful way to haul the dead, Ludvig carried the two remaining corpses unaccounted for, one under each arm like he was carrying long wooden boards. He spun and gently laid them beside the corpse Mirielle was examining.

Looks like Dromele's finally set to leave. Mirielle looks exasperated despite doing really well to hide it. No leads, he supposes.
The other ex-inquisitor seems to be lifting his lantern up in broad daylight. Curious.
The sound of soil being stabbed into with a soft crunch, and promptly tossed aside. Linnie.
He stared at one of the corpses' charred face while commenting to himself.

^{『 Ludvig 』}
The carriage would have been nice to still have, in the moment.

He grabbed his waist, feeling the corpse grime add some strange friction between his hands and polo shirt. Noticing this, he tapped his chest once, poofing away all the dirt, blood and sweat on his exterior altogether in a near-instant. Even the bullet tear on his shoulder area was gone.

That reminded him. He glanced at Mirielle, holding his left hand out.

---

^{『 Ludvig 』}

"S'pose we do need to bury 'em...
Though a more apt location would have been nice. Somewhere a bit closer to their families, perhaps."

The carriage would have been nice to still have, in the moment.

"The bodies have already been decomposing for weeks. Gasses from the bodies are already spreading. We need to bury it down 6 feet below the ground so that it wouldn't spread the diseases that it may cause. I carefully picked up a good spot to dig even when rain comes in. 

If these bodies are freshly perished, we can still find somewhere to dig. But in this case, we can't just drag them and bring the disease gas along the way. We are disrespecting the dead," Linceleste replied to that clown man while she kept digging the selected burial spot. 

---

Well, the day went from bad to worse. Perhaps it should have been an omen that once the monotonous surroundings had finally shifted into the woods, so would their endeavors. From a simple mission on locating the whereabouts and condition of Paladin Thomas, now they got a lot of news all at once. None of it good. From engaging with soldiers to the shaky testimony of a man caught in the middle of numerous affairs, it all culminated to the discovery of some of those poor saps that were with Thomas. Despite the warnings the peasant, Dromele, the scene was more tragic than one could have expected.

A gruesome way to end, the burned at the stake and left for the wildlife to pick clean. Already parts of their uncovered bodies, the head, hands, were picked clean, the bone dyed red and charred black left exposed. Osric did not blame any of the churches men their anguish. Carmen especially broke his normally calm demeanor as he cut down a colleague, resting him on the ground.

“Ah, give me a sec, and I can probably build a makeshift shovel myself. At least then we can have a second with Rezello’s and help ya dig.” said Osric as he readjusted his pack. He felt bad for Carmen and Mirielle. Those two were probably the closest to those deceased even if that only happened to be because of their order. “I don’t think I can add any more to what has been said. But I’m sorry they ended up this way. I can understand losing someone important. At such a horrid way at that.”

Osric bowed his head as reverently as he knew how. He didn’t want to say anything else. He didn’t know what else to say more likely. And it wasn’t really his place to talk about revenge. Backing away and turning, Osric then began to look around. He found a sturdy branch, and pulled out a knife. He whittled down a piece of it and then left to look for a flat rock or something else to build a makeshift shovel. It didn’t take him long, and the flat stone shovel was quite crude, but should last long enough to at least dig a couple graves for those men.

When Osric returned, he could see that tensions were rising. He could hear some of the conversation from the tree line, but now that he could see everyone clearly again, he wandered over puzzled. “Hey now. What makes you all believe he knows anything beyond what he just told us? If he actually knew anything, you’d think those soldiers would have been hanging him in the middle of nowhere? Let up and leave him be. We should be thankful he knew of this place to begin with.” It seemed that Carmen was of similar mindset, or was at least at his whits end when it came to the speculations. Still, he let the peasant go. With sound advice from some of the others, Dromele was no longer under the employ of the party. Not that he had any obligation to begin with. Osric sighed and he stabbed his stone shovel into a pit of soft dirt.

“Well, I’d say our first impression among the locals has been less than stellar. In less than an hour we managed to get on the bad sides of two different groups of people. The sooner we can find this Thomas person, the better. Now then.” said Osric as he looked at the row of bodies. No matter how many times he looked, his expression showed a hint of sorrow. He learned early on when he started to take up mercenary work that some people are truly sadistic and callous. It was one thing to kill or even make an example of one’s enemies. But to some people, that wasn’t enough. They got some sort of sick pleasure out of inflicting suffering. Though he grew more accustomed to the sight, it didn’t make him like it any less.

“Ideally, we would, Ludwig. If this is how these folks were left, I don’t want to think about what could happen to that Thomas fella. If he wasn’t among these folks, then it’s safe to say he got away. Lets hope that he did for a good long while.” said Osric. He walked back to his shovel and pulled it up of of the dirt. He held the end of the shovel near his shoulder and tapped it a couple times. He kept quiet about how close they were to the border. So as it stood, there looked to be equal chance the people they were looking for were either captured or managed to escape. Just not escape to the borders of Westernant. “For now, lets just give them as best service and burial we can here. We can put a mark on our map. When you Order folk get the chance, you could come back and give them a proper burial once we locate Thomas.”

"As much as it annoys me to say so, there isn't much information to gather here other than what Dromele knows, or claims to know and the bodies themselves. According to what little we know about this region, this Ealdorman and his forces seem to hold the most influence around here. Enough to have his militia run around executing anyone they want to. They would definitely be the only ones capable of staging such an execution... Unless there is another group with similar influence... Maybe this witch and the traitors they speak about? Although It wouldn't make much sense for them to do this to members of the Order..."

After all was said and done, and a bit of Mirielle's blessing, Dromele started to leave. It was Carmen now who offered his hypothesis.

"I fought the red stripes for years in Dragon's maw, " said Carmen, stabbing Rezello's shovel into the blackened soil with great vengeance. "The Loyalist, Those who were still loyal to the Fredrin Dynasty should be their nemesis, but we never heard about them being mentioned. If the traitors they spoke of are the people who took arms, then You are right. Paladin Thomas's group was here to help, and if there were factions that didn't like a congregation of pious clergymen gaining favors from the locals, it should be the red stripes."

Pausing, Carmen might be a bit too drastic with his guesswork, but it was not all without reason. Paladin Thomas and his wife were powerful, and you could exert massive influence when you are both powerful and compassionate.

“I don’t think I can add any more to what has been said. But I’m sorry they ended up this way. I can understand losing someone important. At such a horrid way at that.”

Said Osric, Carmen could only look back and nodded, smiling weakly before returning to his duty.

Using his cloak as a stretcher, Captain Friston buried his first corpse, and it was such a grim irony that they were his brother or in faith. He gripped his shovel tightly and promised to the ones buried, the soil, the sky, and himself that they would be remembered. They would be remembered and their sacrifice would not be in vain. He would make sure of it.

And with Leinceleste's suggestion and everyone's help, they buried the five, all two meters under. All prayers had been said, and grief, expressed. Only the five charred logs, the evidence of the cruelty, now remained.

Carmen looked up to the sky and wondered what the Revered Areston would do in his situation. He uttered prayers, first for himself to be granted wisdom for days to come. The second prayer uttered when he picked up his lantern and held it steadily, he would pray to be shown the way.

And as if to answer his plea, the lantern glowed with a soft purple light that somehow outshined the clear sun above. Shillouete of shadow started to materialize around him. The logs were occupied again, but this time by moving, seemingly living people. Some moved weakly, others resentfully.

Then in front of the victim, materialized silhouette of a dozen people. With three standing right in front of the doomed priests. The spectators did not seem to be coming from soldiery sorts, but some of them were armed.

Meanwhile, the three executioners stood up with commanding poses. One of them had a bulky, muscular build with long hair and a sword on his back. The second executioner looked way more skinny, he wore a coat, and his face was covered by a mask resembling the beak of a bird. Finally, the last executioner was a stocky man who seemed to be coming from a more disciplined regiment. And curiously he wore a helmet that silhouette was identical to what the beaten-up Sergeant wore in Kardag.

A moment later, the silhouette started to speak in echo.



"Well well well, aren't you the tough one?" said the bulky executioner in a thick baritone as he walked toward the priest who tried to wiggle free. "The spell's already worn off I see. I pity for you, son, or maybe not, your friends will be in one hell of a rude awakening soon, so don't worry we, don't discriminate."

"Animals! All of you. All of this for what? Your sick experiments? May the Lord Creator put you in the deepest pit of hell!"

"Hey! Stop toying with the prisoner." said the skinny man with a bird mask. He was seen holding a parchment in his one hand, and a seemingly open metal container on the other. "We are told to make this quick, but I want to see the effectiveness of the new formulae. Gloves! Don't forget gloves. Put one in his mouth! I want to see how it reacts to proteins in saliva. Tired of hearing him blathering about Lord this and lord that anyway."

The bulky executioner said nothing and did what instructed, only quipping 'enjoy' when he stuffed something resembling a piece of rock into the priest's mouth and tied a rope around it. In a few seconds, smoke trailed from the priest's head, and he squirmed in a muffled pain.

"And next, its reaction to the proteins in the blood. Well, chop-chop! Do it to the others too. I want to see if it reacts differently."

The bulky executioner and a few people from the crowd moved forth and started to hack the remaining priest with swords and hatched. Some awoke with screams of agony while some others seemed too weakened to even sound a cry. And then, more of those rocks were shoved into their wounds, mouths, torn-open chest cavities, freshly gouged eye sockets, and all orifices the savages could find. Smokes engulfed the victims and spread out to irritate nearby onlookers and executioners so much that they couldn't take it anymore.

"Fine. Neutralize it!" commanded the masked man.

With a torch, the soldier ignited the smoke burning the priests in a colored flame of black. No oil, timber, or straw was needed, it quickly caught fire like an earth gas being ignited, and the executioners watched with awe from the moment when the screaming started until there was no movement the bending of immolated muscle and fat.

"Seems this batch's good and ready to be shipped." Said the masked man in a monotone, adding a checklist in his parchment.

"What about the rest of em? And their leader? The shiny arsehole and his brood?" Asked the bulky executioner.

"I don't know. Isn't that your job to find them?"

"Yeah, but I mean. Are you gonna do your experiment on them?"

"No... the General has a plan for the rest."


When those silhouettes started moving away from the scene and no words were uttered but their opinion about the gruesome spectacle, Carmen whispered the word of magic into his lantern and the scene unfolded before them suddenly froze.

At some point during the burial and precession, Ludvig's outfit seems to have changed again.
Suit, cardigan vest, necktie in an Eldredge knot, slacks, leather shoes, sunglasses. All black, as well as the leather belt holstering three iron spikes and a steel dagger on his right hip, and a decently-sized book on his left hip.
Behind all that black, still peeks a little of that favourite pink long-sleeved polo around the neck and past the suit's arm sleeves.

When the projection froze, Ludvig was the first to break the ensuing silence, removing his sunglasses with one hand and clasping his face with the other, gritting his teeth.
It was one thing to look at a corpse with a huge uncertainty about the method, circumstance and/or reasoning for its death. It was another thing entirely to witness it happen, almost first-hand. Witnessing the clerics in their suffering, and the executioners who visibly enjoyed inflicting it.

^{『 Ludvig 』}
He let go of his face, glancing at the closest person to either side of him. There was a brief attempt at a smile, until there quickly wasn't, and his blue soulless eyes wandered off before being covered again by pitch-black sunglasses.

^{『 Ludvig 』}
Ludvig briskly paced, walking past his teammates while trying to avoid clashing with their shoulders, walking towards his horse. He didn't begin to climb it, he just visibly stood there, beside the horse. Slowly, his forehead plopped onto the saddle, his right arm over it clenching its fist.
Evidently he may have concluded it to be a grave mistake to spare them. There was an intense budding intention to rectify said mistake, personal oaths be damned.

This 'General' person. This has to be the true mission laid out for him. Why else would the powers that be contact him after all this time? In such a vague manner, hiding it in the guise of checking up on some Paladin and his entourage's wellbeing?

His mind is clouded, too distraught to mull over those strange rocks that emitted black fire, or even to regret selling his bone dagger to some artificer wizard decades ago thinking he'd never have to use it again.
He unsheathes his dagger, staring at his own face reflected on its impeccable polish. Then occur in his mind, glimpses of another version of himself with blood splatters all over.

Mirielle stared woodenly at Ludvig's outstretched hand for a moment before it clicked, and in just about any other situations would've be rather excited to ask about more. But for the moment she quietly removed her right glove and handed it over, before carefully unclasping the gauntlet on the other side.

"Ah, yeah. Do your thing, please. Thanks." Her glance on the mage lasted a few seconds before it returned to the bodies, her boot tapping on the ground as nervous energy welled up. Burial will take some time, but well... it's the least they could do for the victims.

*****

Ah, Carmen's lantern. She wasn't sure if it could play back that far, but seemed that the last moment of the clerics was still within his reach. A grim sort of anticipation rose, ready to see the blackhearts responsible for the massacre.

And through the replay, her mood was replaced by a near-comical flabbergastion before it reignited the cold fury within.

She was wrong. These were beyond cruel men. They were monsters in human skin, with a gaping pit where their heart should be.

"I'm going to kill them."

The statement was disconcertingly light, like someone talking about taking a short nap. Mirielle turned around, by some confidence following after Ludvig until she reached where the horses were tied. With religious slowness the ex-inquisitor unclasped her sword, storing it in her luggage before retrieving a long pole tightly wrapped in leather.

Step by step the leather wrap came undone, revealing a masterfully crafted spear gleaming under the sun. Metal braces ran across the length of an ironwood shaft, culminating into a wide bladehead and a pair of wings on one side while rounded metal butt rested on the other end as both a counterbalance and a blunt instrument both.

Scriptures covered every surface but the spearhead, etched on the metal and carved into the shaft. Mirielle caressed the surface as she recited in low voice, eyes closed as her aura momentarily flared.

"...show courage in righteousness, to bear pain in the suffering of others. Pray that we forget not the mercy for the downtrodden, and grant us the strength to prevail over the wicked-"

---

"No! No! We report to The Order!" he refuted abruptly eyes gazed sharply at Carnathia, and for that brief moment, it looked like Carmen was in terrible psychological pain. "Not some elven woman who thinks she knows it all. It is absurd! If only this damned Case officer did not stall our mission with unnecessary precautions, those... they could still be saved. What is the merit of following order if it impedes us from preventing unnecessary death?"

"Either way," Carnatia replied, in a placating tone, "Our mission here is not to capture nor punish the perpetrator for the disappearance of Paladin Thomas and his entourage, but rather to bring back the group, or provided it is not possible, to discover the truth of what happened and report it to the stakeholders of this mission.

"I am not suggesting us to engage in mindless slaughter, lady de Valmont." Replied the ex-inquisitor, a bit offended that the noble would even imply such. "Merely pointing at the best course of further investigation. If you hadn't noticed, this site is a dead end."

Mirielle joined the conversation, replying to Carnatia's urging to keep calm help. Carnatia held back a sigh as she heard her response. She expected her to believe that after being the one who escalated the encounter with the previous soldiers?

Still, she schooled her expression and replied, "That is not what at all I was insinuating, Lady Mirielle. My apologies if I have caused any offence. I am merely saying to approach this situation with a mindset of neutrality, not naming any single party as the perpetrator until we have decisive evidence of their guilt."

The conversation then continued, as they started digging up makeshift graves for the corpses. It was clear that they had not been able to find any clear leads of the guilty party, neither confirming nor denying the rest of the group's suspicion of the soldiers' guilt.

As all the shovels were in use, Carnatia respectfully stood at the edge of the burial site, doing her best not to impede the work of those digging the grave.

Although, if she were to be honest with herself, she doubted she'd be much help with intensive physical labour. Of course, being an adventurer it was not as if she were helpless, but just about anybody else in this group could probably make better use of this hypothetical extra shovel. After all, if Carnatia had an affinity for pure physical strength, the course of events that made her be exiled all those years ago probably would not happened. And she would be wielding a monstrous greatsword like the rest of her family instead of a rapier.

Eventually, the graves were dug and prayers were uttered, to which Carnatia joined in. It was then, that Carmen's lantern started to materialize several shadowy figures and a gruesome scene unfolded before them.

Halfway through the scene, Carnatia felt the content of her stomach started to rise up. She closed her eyes, before turning away from the scene, only to realize that she could still hear the projected voices, her imagination filling in the blanks in horrific imagery.

Still, she couldn't walk away now, as there may be hints in the vision. She took a deep breath and entered her Zen State of mind once more. Emptying her mind of any thoughts except to clinically dissect the vision shown by Carmen's lantern.

Finally, the vision ended.

"...Pardon me," Carnatia managed to utter, she then walked off hurriedly, before vomiting.

She uncorked her water bottle, as she washed her mouth to get rid of the unpleasant aftertaste.

As Carnatia turned her attention back to the rest of the group, she found many among them understandably angered, and yet...this was exactly what she had warned them against earlier.

She took a deep breath, before she called out to the group,

"Before we take any rash actions, might I ask all of you to consider a few things? While I agree that what Captain Friston's lantern showed us was a vile example of beasts in human form, there was no, in fact, any evidence within that vision that would tie the group in the vision to the soldiers we encountered earlier. In fact, I would argue that the circumstantial evidence we have implied the involvement of other parties."

Turning to Amaris, she continued, "Lady Amaris. Earlier you mentioned how given the Ealdorman held the most influence in this area, they are the most likely party to be responsible. Allow me a few rebuttals as a devil's advocate, if nothing else. First of all, we simply do not know if the premise that they held the most influence here is a true premise. You infer it so based on the fact that they seemingly were able to execute everyone they liked. While it is true, that compared to the more civilized lands such as Helvetia or Westernant such actions would seem to be the actions of an unchecked despot, for years Tretagor had been a war-torn land. There is a reason why it is a failed state, I doubt that the right of a peasant such as Dromele would be guaranteed by any of the poor excuse that called themselves 'government' in this land, regardless of their sphere of influence. They simply have other priorities. But even if they are a major power in this land, there are in fact, at least two other factions that we know of. The witch and the traitors those soldiers mentioned. They seem wary enough of both that if we are working under the premise that those soldiers belonged to a major power, then it follows that these traitors and witch are also considerable power in this land."

She stops, taking a breath, before continuing her argument, "Next, let us consider the vision we see from the lantern. Yes, there was a man they called 'General', however, the term general is common enough to be found in any standing army. This General could belong to the traitors the soldiers mentioned, or perhaps the witch has a standing army. Let us not forget that the spectators in that vision did not seem to be soldiers. Indeed, if anything based on the vision, I would say the witch would be the guilty party. After all, they were conducting some experiments, which given the black flames that resulted as the result, appeared to be an arcane experiment. Typically, though not always, the moniker of 'witch' would be given to practitioners of magic."

She then turned to Carmen, "Finally, there is also Captain Friston's hypothesis. That of the Red Stripe is the guilty party due to them possibly not liking the idea of foreign clergymen. I posit the possibility that the soldiers we encountered were Fredrin Loyalists. The only testimony we have of them being the revolutionaries came from Dromele who mentioned that red stripes were stationed at the outpost, but I think we can all agree that Dromele did not exactly act in a trustworthy manner. But if we set aside Dromele's testimony, is there any proof that those soldiers were the revolutionaries? Consider, for instance, their use of the term Ealdorman. While it is true that technically speaking, Ealdorman only refers to a governmental office, typically it is tied to a noble title, in Regions of Westernant the term Ealdorman is interchangeable with Earl, is it not curious that a faction who is allegedly the revolutionaries to be serving an Ealdorman? Furthermore, consider their usage of the word 'traitor'. Of course, it is possible for them to merely be referring to defectors who joined the Fredrin Loyalist, but if that was the case, wouldn't you find it strange that they specifically referred to traitors rather than the whole Loyalist faction when inquiring which of their enemies sent us? No, I think it is reasonable to infer that by traitors, it is likely they did not mean merely a group of defectors but a faction opposed to them as a whole. In this case, the usage of the word 'traitor' becomes quite...curious."

She paused not enough for them to offer a response just yet, but enough for her words to sink in better and for them to start following the threads of logic she laid out. A common enough oratory tactic.

Carnatia continued, "Consider this. If they were the revolutionaries, the 'red stripe' as Dromele put it, then why would they refer to the Fredrin Loyalists as 'traitors'? Extraordinary circumstances aside, typically in a civil war, or any conflicts of similar kind, the usage of the word traitor is used by those defending the ruler of the previously established status quo. If hypothetically speaking, my brother's Duchy or Captain Friston's County were to rebel, they would not refer to the Westernant Crown loyalist as 'traitors', again barring any circumstances such as the Crown now held by a usurper. Rather, the Crown loyalist would be the one calling the rebels 'traitors' for eschewing the status quo and rebelling against the crown. If those soldiers were part of the revolution, wouldn't they refer to the Fredrin Loyalists as 'dogs' or 'boot-lickers' or any derogatory phrases of that sort? Since they call their opposing faction 'traitors', that would imply they are the loyalists. Either that or the situation in this land had changed substantially that there is a third major faction that is formed by these traitors, and since those soldiers only mentioned two factions, the witch and the 'traitors' if these 'traitors' are indeed a new faction, that would imply whichever faction the soldiers were not a part of, either the Fredrin Loyalists or Revolutionaries had fallen to such insignificance that they did not even merit a mention."

Ludvig perked up from slouching his head on his horse's saddle as he heard Carnatia's arguments. He briskly walked back, towards the team and especially her.

^{『 Ludvig 』}
Bumped his two fists together, and gestured an explosion.

^{『 Ludvig 』}
He glanced at the rest of the team and chuckled for a bit, then clasped his face again and groaned, bruising his nose a little with the sunglasses' nose pads.

^{『 Ludvig 』}
He crosses his arms and palms his right cheek.

^{『 Ludvig 』}
If all of this holds true, this would mean that his real target is not the 'General' but the 'witch'... Curses. This might be a problem further down the road. Stupid as it sounds, he could only hope that he doesn't find said 'witch' attractive.
Remembering that she sent brutes to torture and experiment on some harmless clerics surely already helps immensely on that regard.

Wait, he thought. Is this why the team has two ex-inquisitors?

"...show courage in righteousness, to bear pain in the suffering of others. Pray that we forget not the mercy for the downtrodden, and grant us the strength to prevail over the wicked-"

To that prayer, Carment silently whispered the word "amen"

Carmen has seen enough, and now, heard enough. Between the dispersing shadows and Carnathia's other long speeches, Captain Friston seeks a distraction by showing his stained hands to Ludvig and asking him to do one of his sanitizing tricks.

"Do your magic, amigo, Por Pavor."

"Huh? Ah, sure. Remove your gloves for me."

"I see, well. Give me a moment."

Carmen carefully removed his leather gloves. Giving it to Ludvig to be cleaned instantly with his magic. It was a pleasant change to relieve his hands of awful and damp sensation. A moment later, Ludvig returned his glove, fully cleaned through

"Here you go, two clean gloves"

"Gracias."

Smiling as he put back his gloves, Carmen at least found a small consolation to ease his bottled anger. However, distracted as he may, he remained aware of Carnathia's lecturings.

"Don't think too much about it." He said to Ludvig as the man himself spoke about his dilemma of identifying the so-called loyalist and the merit of sparing the soldiers they encountered a few hours ago.

And then, he returned, to her, right when his name was being mentioned.

"This neutral mindset you spoke of... and boundaries, I can understand the importance of it. I respect your effort to make us reconsider, Senorita Carnathia, although it seemed a lot for a party that hasn't made a uniform decision yet. For that, I thank you. Your second opinion is valuable for us."

Carmen paused to listen to Ludvig again who expressed his desire to not kill the Loyalists if they were somehow less stern in their methods. To this, he sighed and continued.

"But who they really are is way less important than the action we must take when dealing with them. Our investigation is far from over, and if they have the lordship of this land, our chance to run into them is unavoidable. I care not who their true allegiance is, and finding it out is an unrealistic task, so, let me ask you this: what is the best course of action we must take when they force our hands?"

@Randomguy

---

Linceleste helped herself after digging the burial site by taking a rest. A cross-legged sitting posture on her own made crystallized chair facing on the dug spots where her male party members were putting victim bodies into their resting place. She then defrosted her chair once another of her party members started the burial prayers for the buried victims. After the prayer, she cleansed herself by soaking with a water spell and dried herself with a combination of wind and heat spells. The artifact lantern was activated by Carmen as he whispered a magic word. It portrayed the horrific event that the party members had witnessed. Linceleste tried to be calm as best she could, despite her facial being about to burst out, sweating and intense body shaking. Inside, there was a lot of screaming on her mind. She endured processing the audio and visualized data from unsettling scenery through to the end. As the red-haired baroness excused herself and started to feel sick from the sights she was taking in, she stared at the baroness until she had been relieved from the nauseating. As the party gathered and started to brief, Linceleste remained herself as a listener and glanced at whoever was the one who spoke at the briefing.

---

"To be clear, I am not saying that they are most definitely not the revolutionaries, I am merely attempting to demonstrate the possibility of them actually being the loyalists instead. My point was that we still have to many unknown to be jumping to conclusions." Carnatia clarified in response to Ludvig's inquiry.

She then turned to Carmen, as she answered his questions.

"But who they really are is way less important than the action we must take when dealing with them. Our investigation is far from over, and if they have the lordship of this land, our chance to run into them is unavoidable. I care not who their true allegiance is, and finding it out is an unrealistic task, so, let me ask you this: what is the best course of action we must take when they force our hands?"

"I think I demonstrated enough in our last fight, that I am not opposed to fighting them, should they force our hand. It is more that I am of the opinion that we shouldn't march into their outpost rashly when we have little evidence of them being the guilty party, especially when punitive actions are not in our mission parameter. Should we encounter them again, I would argue to attempt diplomacy first on the off chance that we have not burnt all bridges with them. If they force our hands, then we have no other recourse but to defend ourselves, though I will say that we should probably avoid them rather than seek them out. May I suggest that we make approaching the 'traitors' or witch they mentioned our next priority instead? Our mission, first and foremost, is information gathering, making contact with major factions in this land is paramount, we've unfortunately has likely missed out on our chance to do just that with those soldiers, but perhaps their enemies would be more amicable."

May I suggest that we make approaching the 'traitors' or witch they mentioned our next priority instead? Our mission, first and foremost, is information gathering, making contact with major factions in this land is paramount, we've unfortunately has likely missed out on our chance to do just that with those soldiers, but perhaps their enemies would be more amicable."

Carmen looked a bit calmer now, and he maintained that by not glancing at the freshly made graves or the stakes beside them.

"I agree, we should gather information first, and to that end, I think the best course of action we should take next is to find a major settlement. Katwiz is a day or two from here according to our map."

Glancing at Amaris, he continued, "True, we have no business in their power struggle, but if their interests jeopardize our mission and our well-being, we will not back down. Whether this witch is responsible or whoever, all will be revealed in time. We will go to Katwiz, there will be more people to ask there, and not any less important, we need to restock our provisions."

Carmen remembered Lyxn's assessment this morning reporting their food supply was only enough for a week. It was still plenty, but along the journey, they had the luxury of hunting to preserve their reserve, but in this land, he feared there would be no more prairie hare on a skewer.

After checking his saddlebags, the Captain grabbed the rein and mounted on his steed.

"So the plan: We will go to Katwiz and gather enough clues. Do not engage the Red Stripes unless they fired on us first. Any questions or objections?"

There was no objection to the proposed plan. Silently, all of them left the site, returning to the main road and the shortest path leading to the Province's Capital City.

Halfway through their journey, the party made a small detour toward the forest, away from the main road, to rest and prepare for lunch. After their foul fare with the soldiers, someone had to be on guard duty this time. Ludvig volunteered to be one.

The party did not waste much time. The fire was lit and kept low but steady so it wouldn't produce too much smoke. Stale bread, sausage, and omelet were on the menu today, prepared hastily and eaten equally so, as not to be savored but to nourish the exhausted bodies and minds. The frugality was generally understood by everyone.

When it was time for them to pack up and leave, Ludvig was nowhere to be seen.

Carmen could have sworn he saw the redhead do his escape trick as soon as he was given the clearance for guard duty, after that the guy disappeared like a phantom. To where? Nobody knew. The party tried to search for him and went as far as returning to the main road just to locate his whereabouts. Hours passed, and still no avail.

"We are running out of time." Carmen looked up to the reddish-yellow sky above and huffed. "I am afraid we will have to leave him. It's dangerous to continue searching in the dark. Whatever his intention might be, may God keep him safe. Let us move."

Carmen couldn't quite fathom why would he leave so abruptly and randomly. Was there something that he didn't know? A less noble motive perhaps? The captain tried to get rid of that distasteful guesswork, after all, he was hired by Sauniere, and if there were ill intention, as an inquisitor he and Mirielle would have noticed before they entered Sielse. All he could say was the man was as enigmatic as the dark sky above.

The party continued trotting through the unpaved country road, that hopefully led to Katwiz. As they rode back to the site where their previous standoff with the soldiers occurred, they slowed down and kept themselves alerted. It seemed the Soldiers had concluded their business in this settlement; a hamlet called Kardag from the noticeboard on the side of the road. The town looked as if it was devoid of life, doors barred shut, streets were empty, and only a handful of houses were seen with meager lighting inside.

Not far from the settlement, they could see a fortified installation built on the left side of the road. The outpost had two watch towers and walled by two-meter-high wooden palisades surrounding the emplacement. Two soldiers could be seen manning each tower, meanwhile, in the distance, no less than seven soldiers were guarding a roadblock. Two stood directly behind the blockade. Two soldiers guarded the garrison entrance, once sat near the fireplace, while the remaining two patrolled the at road and the edge of the forest.

The party quickly veered off the road, toward the treelines on the right side of the road so they would be out of the sentry's line of sight. The situation now called for careful consideration, but one thing was clear; they would have to ride past them to get to Katwiz quickly, or turn back and find another unknown road.

"Getting through isn't the problem. Keeping the horses alive would be." Mirielle stated from atop her saddle, spear resting over her right shoulder. "Perhaps we should wait for nightfall? Going around the camp, or simply charging past the blockade is an option then. But riding in the darkness for any prolonged period is just as risky as letting the marksmen take shot at us."

Piercing yellow gaze fell on her party members, expecting someone to know some unique solution to their predicament. In worst case they'll need to fight it through... not that attractive of a choice either. Mirielle doubted that anyone important was stationed in this small outpost, there's little to gain from escalating the conflict.

"We could always back up a bit, find someone from the village. They must know if there's alternate paths." She said with a shrug. That'll entail backtracking, costing more time, without any assurance of the potential gain. The soldiers were stationed here for a reason, would be pointless if they're so easily bypassed.