As much as the sun beat down on their wary faces, the air felt cold in the half-ruined town of Halaima. Konrad expected to sweat in his new armor, but he got the chills.
Stella was shaking, too, although in the end she didn't have much to do.
Her task was to find her old boss and the spirit's next favorite, but it turned out to be unnecessary. The Inquisitor and the mysterious child would greet them right at the front.
Like a robust statue for evil, clutching the symbol of innocence.
The old, rectangular-faced man held the girl as if she'd run away otherwise.
Her frilly clothes were at odds with the simplicity of his clothes.
It was hard to put into words why, but Konrad found the sight sickening.
He averted his eyes, focusing on all the illusions instead, but his nerves were catching up to him fast. As much as he rushed his plan, hoping for the best outcomes, he was unsure now.
Otto's familiar voice filled the small square of Halaima's church.
"Konrad Ostfeld in the flesh," he boomed. Using the bastard name they have shared seemed like a very deliberate choice. "I'm surprised they captured you alive."
Konrad was about to open his mouth, but Vargas was faster.
"The coward was begging for his life as soon as my men overwhelmed his savages," he lied.
They rehearsed what everyone should say well ahead of time, but now that they were here—
Konrad was the first to forget his own choreography.
"Interesting," was all the Inquisitor had to say before moving on. "And who is that other one?"
The 'mercenaries' shifted, opening a narrow corridor for Welf to come forward.
"Ah, that one," Vargas spoke in the sellsword's voice. "A gift. He's robust and could serve you well in your mines, if nothing else. I'll admit, he's a bit too temperamental to sell as a slave."
Otto scoffed, waving him off.
"I'm not sure if you came to flaunt your looting rights in my face, or to get rid of the garbage you couldn't handle. Take him to the catacombs, then. He'll join the rest tomorrow."
That didn't sound good—but not every part of Konrad's plan failed right away.
This clever play was to determine if the Inquisitor had heard of the salt mine raid yet.
The part that went off the rails was that now they've gotten separated.
Twice.
"Go, have a drink with your men on my tab in the tavern," Otto boomed, pointing behind their backs. "My guards will take it from here. And you, Sister—welcome back."
Stella, pale as she was, bowed at his words, almost preening.
She wasn't that talented in acting.
"Now, let us converse in my office," the Inquisitor said, his guards closing in. "If I'm not mistaken, you couldn't sign a document when you left ahead of time earlier."
"Why would I do it now?" Konrad protested as the guards in red nudged him forward.
He remembered that paper in question.
In exchange for his freedom, the Church would have him renounce his claims to Halaima. They would even have him join their ranks, but he knew exactly what that would've meant.
"Let's put it this way," Otto said without even looking back. "You sign it, or—"
"Or you kill me?" Konrad snapped, yanking his hands away from the thugs.
If they touched his chains that didn't even exist—
"Kill you?" The Inquisitor stopped, facing him with an eerie, unreadable expression. "No, I'd leave you alive either way. You can be quite valuable, without you knowing."
Konrad was well aware of his worth and didn't need his praise.
Otto would not take his hands off the girl for a single moment.
She was small, young, blonde—could've been Stella Nord's clone, though less androgynous.
Did this world even have cloning? Or a magic to that effect?
He was already distracted, almost missing the Inquisitor's next chilling line.
"You are a smart man, ser Prodigy. You caused me a lot of headaches. Cost me coin. But your talent to transmute silver into adamantite is also handy. It outweighs the nuisance you caused."
"So you mean to tell me, I'll spend the rest of my life as your adamantite farm?" Konrad asked.
He stopped for a second, but the guards pushed him along anyway.
"Then what reason do I have to sign that document?" he scoffed as they reached the office.
The Inquisitor pushed in the door, waving them inside with an unreadable expression.
"How did you like Sister Stella's torture earlier?" He raised an eyebrow as Konrad walked past him. The room still smelled of old parchments, but now—it was also tinged with ozone.
He couldn't help but shoot a glance at the Executioner, and the blonde looked away.
What if he walked right into her trap?
"I could do without them," Konrad said before the silence could stretch too thin.
"Well then," the Inquisitor closed the door with his guards still outside. "I'd suggest you sign that document—even if your fate would be the same, circumstances matter."
It was only the four of them, Otto, the girl, Stella, and himself.
Not how he'd expect things to turn out, but it wasn't a bad turn of events, either.
By now, the Blood Moons and Vargas should've been ready for their attack. Welf was in a stickier situation than he had planned for, but the redhead had the element of surprise, too.
Depending on whose side Stella was standing, the odds could have been in Konrad's favor.
He already knew everything he wanted to know—no reason to play the captive any longer.
Thinking of the right runes to use before discarding his illusions, he—
"Brigida," Otto snapped, and before he realized, Konrad was flying backwards.
The thunderclap followed almost a second later, and then pain engulfed him with it.
He didn't have to worry about his illusions anymore.
They all crumbled, his chains disappearing into the thin air. The adamantite chestplate that might've saved his life became visible, too. But, at least, it soaked up most of the charge.
"What the hell was that?" he groaned, trying to get back on his feet.
His muscles protested. On the Inquisitor's desk, the mysterious child was standing. Her breathing was heavy, palms facing him, sparks still dancing between her fingers.
Okay, so the spirits did indeed favor her.
"I might've forgotten to introduce you to Brigida Brave," Otto snickered. He pronounced Brave as two syllables, not as the word for courage. "And there is a secret I have never told you."
From the streets, he heard the unmistakable sounds of a brawl.
Yeah, with his illusions gone, the fake mercenaries would've also turned gingers.
"You see, I didn't have the power you or Brigida have," he monologued, standing up. "The saints didn't bless me either—which is odd, but oh well. I was born with mana sight instead."
Shit. Konrad could feel a frown forming.
The Inquisitor didn't have to read his mind to figure out what he was thinking.
"Indeed, I can tell you're about to cast a spell before you decide on it," Otto claimed. "The illusions were smart, but I saw the suspicious mana all over you and your men."
It would've been nice to know.
"And Brigida here," he continued. "She can summon her spells through the spirits in an instant, no matter how complex and strong. So, you see, I made preparations to face you, too."