As the first dregs of sunlight permeated the curtains of her room, Ayumi’s brows subtly twitched before she opened her eyes. Due to the complications surrounding the corruption incident with Isaac, she hadn’t been changed out of her original clothing. She parted he black hair obscuring her face and leaned up in her bed, scanning the room.

  Over the last day and a half she had remained in an almost catatonic sickly state, but her troubles and feelings of wariness had dissipated by a marginable degree. Ayumi rubbed her eyes as she yawned, looking to the far corner of the room where her door was situated. Before he left for the night, Mr. Ryujin had closed her door to ensure she wouldn’t be bothered. But now, she found that it was cracked slightly.

  Ayumi slowly left her head, slipping on a pair of comfortable slippers as she trotted to the half-open door, moving to close it. Before she could entirely close it, she caught sight of something in the dim lighting of the hallway.

  ‘Huh…” her voice came out barely a whisper as she leaned down and picked it up—it was a letter—a letter from the Mother Nature church!

  Ayumi’s eyes widened as she opened it, tearing the paper seal off and tossing it aside. She unfolded the letter and began to read its contents.

  “Due to the complexity of the current situation, both involving the election of a new archbishop, the incidents surrounding countless criminals and thieves, and other misdemeanors occurring across the kingdom, we haven’t had the time to truly tutor you regarding your advancement to a Prism Warden.”

  Upon seeing the name, Ayumi felt a surge of curiosity. Prism Warden? It sounds similar to Prison Warden. Was it a similar ability or symbolism? Ayumi couldn’t help but snort to herself as she kept reading.

  “Prism Wardens can create small prism-like objects that can contain almost anything without an opposing or corruptive symbolism. They can also bestow small blessings onto others that can enhance their strength, stamina, and emotional state. We’ve considered naming this Order as ‘Therapist,’ but what was inscribed eons ago stays and shall fit for the foreseeable future.”

  After reading all this information a few more times, Ayumi put the letter down and took a deep breath. Due to her resting period, she hadn’t gained much ample time to properly read over her information regarding her advancement. Even though she had seen the illusory scroll after advancing, the subsequent events must have either erased her memory or distracted her enough for her to forget everything,

  “Prism Warden… I suppose those weirdo gods have some sense of humor.” Ayumi stepped back from the letter on the table.

  A sudden burst of knowledge entered her body, making her recall important past events and teachings. Ayumi immediately suspected these strange ‘boons’ were occurrences derived from potion consumption and first-time usage, but the information being presented to her was enough for her to lose her focus on her earlier thoughts.

  She recalled the training she had done with Mr. Ryujin—the meditative state where she would be blindfolded, trusting her intuition of her own surroundings. In order to cultivate the mindset of a warrior, one must survey their primal instincts and learn where they came from. But Ayumi wasn’t a warrior, she didn’t want to be one. She was a Saint, the light amidst darkness for her companions to lean on.

  If Ayumi could recite this practice once more—cultivating knowledge and experience through it—she could digest her potion faster and ultimately get stronger under the guidance of the church and her friends. Ayumi walked to the corner of her apartment room, grabbing the crimson blindfold she had previously used.

  …

  “You’re still hesitant, still scrappy…” Losalzo’s dual-tone voice was like ice against Shinso’s skin.

  Shinso cried out in pain as two of the ink-black tendrils emerged from the binds around his body, slithering into his ears. After completely obscuring his hearing, the ends of the tendrils emanated a faint crimson glow. Shinso arched his back, teeth gritting as the crimson light of the tendrils began to burn and eat away at his inner ear canals.

  At the same time, a strange sensation filled his body, almost like a tantalizing heat destined to engulf his inner body and vaporize it. Losalzo leaned forward, a snarl-like grin displaying his rows of sharp teeth. He slowly extended a hand, tracing a finger along the contours of Shinso’s jawline.

  “These tendrils are designed to eat away at your inner body, courtesy of the Apocalypse pathway. Slowly and surely, your entire body will become a desolate husk, a dried-out shell that once was a human.”

  Losalzo’s breath graced Shinso’s ears, ice-cold and chilling. “If you don’t want to submit to me, I heavily recommend doing so soon. In just a few minutes, your entire body will succumb to corruption.”

  Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

  “D-damn you…” Shinso’s voice came out a low, pathetic grumble. His eyes were slivers—half-lidded in an attempt to keep them open.

  Hearing this reply, Losalzo only chuckled in response. “If you insist.”

  At that moment, the pain intensified in Shinso’s body, his entire form tensing and mouth falling agape in a silent scream. He wanted to beg for it to stop, but at the same time, he knew it was worthless to resist. The bindings around his body only constricted tighter, slowly proceeding to block off blood flow to his feet, hand, and head.

  “This entire kingdom is slowly falling into a famine due to farmers outside the kingdom succumbing to the harsh winter.”

  Losalzo’s dual tone voice sounded around him as he began to circle around Shinso, clenching and unclenching his hands. He paused behind Shinso, placing both hands on his shoulders, squeezing them firmly as his voice sounded as a low whisper.

  “Me and my friends were sent here to help this kingdom. My friends can make plants sprout from the ground with a simple snap of a finger. They can give everyone money to afford what they want to buy. They’ll make gold an everyday occurrence; it’ll be the most common paperweight by next year…”

  Both hands encircled Shinso’s throat—not tight enough to construct airthrow yet enough to make a dent. “That sounds nice. You’ve witnessed it firsthand; you’ve seen thieves steal to feed their families… you don’t want to be the villain of this plot, don’t you? If you truly want to be the hero everyone loves, I recommend you…”

  Losalzo’s voice grew illusory. “Join me.”

  Shinso clenched his jaw, unwilling to speak. Suddenly, Losalzo smirked, the sigil on his forehead gradually growing brighter. Within the sigil, Shinso’s eyes widened, his heart leaping out of his chest as a familiar figure materialized. It was Isaac.

  The boy's hair had darkened, cascading into a long ponytail on his right shoulder. His clothing had also changed, now wearing a casual pair of trousers, a collared shirt, and some worn boots. Shinso instantly knew it was Isaac, but he didn’t recognize the figure to a total degree.

  “Isaac is alive and safe… he’s simply kept in a local village to prevent harm from coming to him. In this new place, he’ll be showered with gifts and praise; he’ll be all he wanted to be. And you can live in paradise too… you can reunite with him, only if you help me.”

  “W-what…” Shinso’s voice softened, a flicker of vulnerability crossing his expression.

  The illusory figure of Isaac dissipated into dust, illusory tendrils and images shrinking back. Losalzo’s figure remained before him, smiling softly.

  “We will help everyone, and you can help yourself. If you don’t, your efforts to see him… your sense of justice… is all for nothing.”

  Another violent surge of pain erupted in Shinso, his skin gradually turning a pale gray as illusory black cracks replaced his veins. The cracks slowly split open, revealing insects and organisms writhing inside his muscles and tendons. Some of them threatened to spill out, while others remained still. Shinso felt as if he might throw up, closing his eyes and looking towards the ceiling.

  “I-I…” Shinso found himself at a loss for words; he didn’t consider any other possibilities.

  From any other angle, the other possibilities resulted in suffering and famine, or that possibility that he’d never see Isaac again. Shinso—feeling backed into a corner—replied in a hurry.

  “I’ll help you…”

  Losalzo slowly sighed, releasing the binds around his body. Shinso watched as his skin returned to normal shade, black cracks diffusing and regressing back into his skin. Shinso looked to the corner of the room, acknowledging Mr. Ryujin’s form.

  “Just don’t hurt him… ok? Don’t hurt anyone.”

  Losalzo nodded, walking to the corner and grabbing the Sword of Judgement. He handed it to Shinso, who took it without a second thought. Losalzo smirked as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. “I’ll show you my friends.”

  Shinso took a shaky breath, holding his neck where the tendrils once sat. His entire body felt numb and constricting even if there was nothing currently binding him. After a few seconds of silence, Shinso glanced at the locked door.

  “I’ll take Mr. Ryujin back to our apartment.”

  Before he could move, Losalzo took a hold of Shinso’s shoulder, smirking. “I’ll have my friends do that for us; we have more important matters to attend to.”

  …

  On the edge of Seraphis Kingdom, beyond the gate, Shiso watched as a large caravan moved along the bumpy dirt road leading to where he and Losalzo stood. Within the caravan, he heard clattering, bantering, and voices. Losalzo took a step forward, signalling for the caravan to come to a halt.

  “My friends are here; and they’re happy to see you.”

  The first thing Shinso saw was the side door of the caravan open, and a blue bushy tail sticking out.

  One, two, three, four, then five heads stuck out. Aside from the two twins, they all possessed eccentrically colored hair. The most refined of them all, a man with long white hair, clad in a white vest, a formal coat, and a pair of long boots stepped out of the caravan. His outfit made him blend in with the surrounding snow.

  “Pleasure to be acquainted with you, Mr…” he looked at Losalzo.

  “Hitoshi Shinso, seeker of the Justice pathway.” Losalzo replied with a smile.

  “Mr. Shinso.” the white-tailed vulpur shook Shinso’s hand, his warm glove encircling Shinso’s hand.

  Shinso nodded, a casual expression on his face. Deep down, his gut was churning—he truly didn’t know what to do at this moment—he didn’t know any of these people aside from the fact that they were here to help the kingdom.

  “I’ll introduce the rest after we get ourselves situated…” Felonuous looked back at the caravan, nodding his head.

  “Now… I’ll pay you handsomely for you to be my bodyguard.”

  Hearing this proposition, Shinso’s eyes widened. “A bodyguard?”

  Felonious nodded, a solemn look on his face. “I’ve read reports about this kingdom, circulated rumors, and other sources. According to what I’ve gathered, Seraphis Kingdom is quite… conservative and… almost racist towards those who aren’t completely human."

  “Really now…” Shinso looked back at the gates, his stomach churning. He could see the faces of the garrison troopers beneath their masks; they were all scowling at the vulpurs.