"I can, and I do." You answer with certitude that goes beyond what the calculating portion of your mind would be willing to offer. Rather it comes from the heart. "For all its power, the Beast is fallible, and I am resolved to see it fall."

You take in the faces around you. Confidence and resolve of your companions is something you've grown somewhat used to but appreciated nonetheless. The penitents you've pressed into service looked calm, as if expecting that it was time for them to make good on their earlier commitment - and were at peace with it.

On the other side, there was a different set of emotions: many echoed Hick's smug tone with smirks of confidence and contempt, but there was also no shortage of hungry leers directed at your female companions.

However, there were exceptions. Even now, some of the mercenaries looked pensive, if not exactly conflicted.

Perhaps most surprisingly out of all, Hicks himself was one of them. The smug, scornful grin didn't seem to quite reach his eyes.

You decide to give him, and his followers, a chance. Or perhaps you just allow the chance to be made for them.

"You know my goal. You owe the beast nothing. Step aside, and let us pass."

You make the offer and allow the silence to fall.

It is deep, but relatively short-lived. There's a few isolated snorts from some of the mercenaries, but they quiet down when Hicks doesn't immediately respond to the request.

After a few awkward moments one of the mercenaries asks:

"Um, Hicks, what are we waiting for? Let's rush them and be done with it."

"Yeah! Dibs on the twins!" Another hollers. Your gaze darts to the scouts and see Harriet and Janet's expression darken slightly as their grip their weapons tighter.

"Quiet, idiots! I'll be making the call." Hicks shouts.

"You're not treating them seriously, Hicks, are you?" The first mercenary sounds incredulous.

Hicks actually takes a moment to reply. The mercenary lieutenant carefully maintains his confident posture as he turns in the direction from which questions were coming.

"Remind me, Henricks, where were you when the Levantine fortress fell?"

You frown. Was there a development you were unaware of that they had heard about?

"Um... that didn't happen...?" The mercenary, presumably a Henricks, responds.

"Exactly!" Hicks snaps his finger, prompting a subdued murmur from back ranks of his troop. "I've been with Vult on his way to the top, and it worked well enough. But recently, fortune seems to be looking the other way." The lieutenant, still grinning, his facial muscles taut to the point where you wondered if it was possible for a face to crack.

"Hicks, you aren't thinking..." Another voice came as the chatter grows in intensity.

"I'm doing exactly that, it's why I'm in charge." Hicks snaps. "You weren't there when Kin got his shit pushed in... second time I guess. This guy means business. And I wonder, maybe it's time for a change in management."

The glade fell silent.

You were half expecting someone to cry outrage at the notion of betrayal, but none came, at least not aloud.

"Vult is going to have your head if he hears."

"Who's gonna tell him? You?"

Silence resumes briefly, then dissipates into murmur once again. It seemed the mercenaries were divided as it were, and although none seemed all that outraged at thought of turning on Vult personally, many were still throwing hungry glares at your companions.

You wonder, would this be a good time for you to intervene?

>No, You've said enough. Let them talk their differences out. It shouldn't take too long, you hope.
>No, they seem busy enough with themselves. Leave quietly and be on your way.
>Yes, announce you are coming through. Those who won't raise weapon against you will be spared.
>Yes, point out how the nature of the force which they serve makes them turn on each other so casually. Perhaps they can be shown error of their ways.
>other idea

>>6017728
>Yes, point out how the nature of the force which they serve makes them turn on each other so casually. Perhaps they can be shown error of their ways.
Back to the march

>>6017728
>Yes, point out how the nature of the force which they serve makes them turn on each other so casually. Perhaps they can be shown error of their ways.
We’re looking for people who will follow us because it’s the right thing to do, not just because we’re strong.

>>6017728
Yes, point out how the nature of the force which they serve makes them turn on each other so casually. Perhaps they can be shown error of their ways.
I really don't trust these guys but might as well give it a try.

>>6017728
>Yes, point out how the nature of the force which they serve makes them turn on each other so casually. Perhaps they can be shown error of their ways.
glad to see you back, OP. here's the archive btw https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Usurper

Internally, you sigh at the spectacle before you. Although it is preferable, you think, to bloodshed, it still speaks volumes of the Beast's nature.

"Observe," You announce, attracting attention of everyone in the glade. "how poisonous the Beast's gift is. How casually you discuss treason, both to the one you follow, and between each other."

The a spectrum of glares drills with you with various degrees of surprise and enmity, but predominantly intrigued by your words, or perhaps just your choice to speak. And so you press on.

"Sensible, in your logic, to look out for yourselves. But I ask you - is that the kind of world you are fighting towards?" You don't leave the rhetorical question hang for too long as some of the mercenaries seemed all too eager to profess what they are fighting for. "I understand the pursuit of power. I am a monster, after all." You point out. "But I have also seen a different way to live. Way through which you need not accept the ruthless logic of abuse and betrayal as a baseline. Way where you can lean on your comrade and find not a dagger in a back, but a supporting arm. Where you can show tenderness and expect not mockery, but affection."

You let your words settle in for a little bit before concluding.

"That is what I stand for."

The silence envelops the glade once again, for a little bit longer. Hicks retains his smug mask, but is otherwise quiet, looking between you and his men (he had not positioned himself at the front but rather in their midst of their group).

Eventually, the silence is broken by a snort from one of the mercenaries that grows into laughter that spreads throughout rest of the troupe. But it does not escape your notice that not everyone is laughing, and those who are differ in degree of enthusiasm. Some are clearly merely going with the flow.

"Is that it? Some pathetic platitudes like what the cuckolds tell their wives' children?" One of the mercenaries speaks up, by the voice you guess it may be the one who was questioning Hicks's earlier suggestion. "Guys, lets' take them. It's just a bunch of guys with their whores. We take down the big one and the rest will cave."

You idly rap your fingers on hilt of your weapon. If that was how it was supposed to go-

"No. Fuck this shit. He's right." Another voice speaks, and focus abruptly shifts to one of the mercenaries. "I signed up with Vult to fight the monsters. I took in the brutality, and accepted it as way of the world. And here I am, told by a bleedin' ogre."

There is some shuffling as his peers make some distance between themselves and the dissenter, and you get a better look at him. A tall, powerfully built man that would stand out among regular men, less so among the mercenaries augmented by their connection to the Beast.

"Listen here, Ogre. What was it you called that black thing? Beast? Fitting, huh." The mercenary looks around. "Hicks is right, but for a wrong reason. We've become what we have fought. I will have none of this." He turns to face you directly. "Ogre, I am with you. And the Beast be damned- aagh!"

The mercenary is not allowed to say any more - but not because of action of any of his companions. Rather there is a tremor in the air, or perhaps beyond it, as you realize you only felt it through your otherworldly sense, and the dissenting mercenary drops to his knees, black and purplish oily fluid seeping out of him, or perhaps more accurately space he happened to be occupying.

It's happening! You hear Laurentia's giddy expression he's renouncing it!

As the darkness, or at least the metaphysical manifestation of it, vacated the mercenary, so did the boon the Nameless had bestowed upon one who spurned his gift. Mercenary's form shifted and spasmed - only briefly, though, and as unpleasant as it looked, after a few seconds the sinister fluid had cleared and the mercenary was left supporting himself on his knee, panting, his outfit slightly mismatched to what must have been his natural form - which was admittedly still a powerfully built man, if not quite matching the exaggerated posture of his companions.

One of which was walking up to the momentarily weakened man from behind, sword drawn.

"Fool, for rejecting strength over fee-fees-" the approaching mercenary abandoned pretense of stealth as he saw the dissenter slow to collect himself - but even so, that was only as far as he went.

There was a flash of light, like a horizontal lightning bolt, except without sound - unless you count non-tangible shockwave of radiant energy as such - and not quite as cold in coloration.

"NOT THIS TIME." A vaguely familiar voice spoke from across the glade, and you realize that Sparky is no longer at your side. The boy was hovering behind the now disrupted formation of the mercenaries, like an angry little sun surrounded by an aura of blazing feathers. The dissenting mercenary, surprised, went from trying to rise up to having fallen on his backside, watching the spectacle in awe, which was soon joined with a measure of dread that was shared across remaining mercenaries as their attention included the other mercenary writhing in agony, clutching a cauterized stump where his sword arm used to be.

Silence was most complete now it has been since the fog cleared to reveal your two companies to each other for the first time, somehow even absorbing the pained groans.

"What have we done?" You hear Olga mutter. "What did we bring into this world? Or... have we?"

Laurentia? You feel yourself asking. Wasn't me. At least, I don't think so. Our little friend is just full of surprises, isn't he?

While you're still figuring out whether you should be amazed, excited, satisfied or something else entirely, the mercenaries are impacted quite a bit differently.

The formation, split earlier by the brief talk, and then by the dissenter stepping forward, broke up further, as the mercenaries took steps back to distance themselves from the little angel.

"What the hell is that?"

"Not any demon I've seen..."

"Goddess, have mercy!"

Even Hicks's mask was now gone entirely, and in place of a confident lieutenant you were now looking at a man openly worried for his present and future, if any was even forthcoming.

Sparky, meanwhile, dimmed down a bit, returning back to form of an adorable boy.

"Leave this man alone! He made his choice." He said, with a more familiar voice. Then he looked down at the maimed man. You couldn't be entirely sure at this distance, but you could imagine he looked conflicted.

You were not exactly in position to help him right now, though, as Hicks turned to regard you.

"Er, Ogre. Does your... offer... still stand?"

"Of course." You don't have to think twice on that, at least. Briefly you contemplate issuing him a warning, but expression of his face told you he has been warned enough as it is.

Hicks nods with genuine relief and turns to his men.

"Alright, you heard the man. Step aside and let this fine gentleman and his company go about their business. Nobody saw anything."

"Not so fast." The dissenting mercenary got himself up and looking across faces of his peers. "Guys. I know some of you. I've done great and horrible things with you. I know some of you have signed up as I have, to make a difference where impotent and corrupt nobles could not. This is it. Let's join this ogre's mission, whatever it is."

There's some uncomfortable shuffling accentuated by moans from the maimed mercenary, which were slightly subdued now as Sparky approached the fallen man and was saying something to him that you couldn't make out.

"Aye, John, you're not wrong." One of the mercenaries says, his vision darting to Maia occasionally. "But I think we've already made our choice, and gonna stick with it to the end. Some of the stuff... is no coming back from."

"That's not true!" A new voice joins - and it's from your side of the glade. The man who established himself as a de facto leader of your penal troupe, steps forward. "I have seen - felt - touch of the goddess light bring me back from the brink, and this is what I got from it - no matter how far gone you think you are, as long as you draw breath, it's never too late to turn around. I may never be able to make up for what I did, but..." He runs out of breath somewhat. "...I commit what's left in me to trying."

After saying his piece, the man looks at you with a slightly panicked gaze, as if asking you if he's overstepped his bounds. You give him a nod of approval instead, calming him down, and go back to looking for reactions among the mercs.

It takes another brief period of awkward silence, but eventually the man who was skeptical of dissenter's - or John's - appeal, did take a few steps towards his former companion, followed by four other mercenaries.

As they do, they all undergo similarly dramatic reversal John the dissenter did, but this time the remaining mercenaries simply watch in silence.

"Fine." Hicks says. "Have it your way then. Enough gawking, men! We have places to be. Somewhere not here."

This prompts his troop to shuffle away, giving wide berth to Sparky - and their maimed companion - in the process.

There's another pulse of glow from where those two are, and the mercenary gasps, hard to say if in pain or surprise, scrambling from his lying position, backing away from Sparky looking after him with sad expression, clutching his now restored arm.

"This - this doesn't mean anything!" He stutters and scurries away after the other departing mercenaries.

"It won't if you won't let it to..." Sparky sighs wistfully.

Hicks, last one to leave, offers no comment to this exchange, but rather turns to you.

"Good luck with the boss, Ogre. And... if you succeed, remember my choices here."

"I will." You assure him, for whatever good it might do him.

And just like that, he is gone. Only you and your companions are left in the glade, now six men stronger.

"You people are good to travel?" You ask the new followers.

"Yes." John asks simply.

"Good. Let's get a move on, then." You announce. "We've spent enough time here. Smutkin, get our new companions up to speed." You finish by delegating the matter to the bard.

There's a round of nods and silent acknowledgments, and you set out, counting on others to follow suit. You pick a direction by sensing, more than seeing, where you expected your destination to be. It could not be far anymore.

But there was still a choice for you to be made.

>Take this chance to speak to one of your companions about something. (who, and about what?)
>Focus on reestablishing the trance for ease of travel, but take it easy - amount of unpleasant encounters is only going to go up.
>Establish the traveling trance, and discuss something with Laurentia (what?)
>Dive into the depths of the shadowy realm and see if there's some shenanigans you could resort to in order to further expedite your journey
>other idea

>>6020637
>now six men stronger.
it was john + 4 others, so 6 men stronger, no ?

>Focus on reestablishing the trance for ease of travel, but take it easy - amount of unpleasant encounters is only going to go up.

>>6020637
>Establish the traveling trance, and discuss something with Laurentia (what just happened)
How much of that was our doing, really? We did prompt the sequence, giving our little speech, but everything after, John, Sparky, the penitent... do you believe this has truly grown beyond Mouse? That even if he were to fall, the fight would go on, that change has already happened and it would only be a matter of time for things to settle? It might be defeatist to think this way but I'd find it relieving in the face of what's about to come.
And more importantly, now that Laurentia has earned our freeing power, couldn't she pass it on to her many, many believers?

>>6020637
>Focus on reestablishing the trance for ease of travel, but take it easy - amount of unpleasant encounters is only going to go up.
Well, that ended about as well as it could have.

OP ?

>>6020637
>Focus on reestablishing the trance for ease of travel, but take it easy - amount of unpleasant encounters is only going to go up.
Didn't realize the thread was up yet

>>6029407
so that's why you didn't vote at the start.

As your companions follow you back into the mists, you let your mind easily settle in the increasingly comfortable stance of travel trance, your perception shifting ever so slightly to accommodate for the wider specter of impulses, even though admittedly the ambient impulses from beyond the material realm were mostly those of incessant attempts at incursions from the Beast.

Luckily, these continued to be thwarted even without your conscious effort, once more making you and your spiritual companion appreciate having this force of light to lean on.

This time, however, there was more.

Laurentia was no longer simply traveling in your wake, clutching onto you for dear life.

You're not sure if it's your improving ability to sense patterns in the apparently chaotic swirls of darkness and shadows, or perhaps some manner of ambient knowledge shared by the goddess, but you were pretty sure you could see her carry out her own probing ventures into the enveloping darkness, disturbing what you've come to regard as the tenebrous baseline, leaving sparkling marks of her own gentle touch, pushing the boundary of light further, planting seeds of radiance in the tainted background.

Only to be extinguished as soon as the mists closed after your passing. The corruption was too thick here for them to take hold. You catch yourself wondering if the luminous plants you saw sprout in the shadowy landscape after her bold venture earlier were still there - or perhaps they were manifestation of something that followed you around? You suppose you would find out eventually. For now, it seemed the darkness maintained a steady pressure.

Regardless, she seemed undeterred, and her enthusiasm rubbed off on you, lifting your spirits somewhat, lightening your step further.

The notion inspires a bittersweet line of thinking in you - if the goddess could draw on that same force that sheltered your own self from, well, essentially since your birth, through the loss of your family, finding yourself in service of the dark queen and all the way to your current daring quest to challenge the world itself... if Laurentia could draw on that same force that sent the black dog's spectre whimpering, perhaps in a way your quest was already a success?

Perhaps even if you fell here, the crack in the dark crust enveloping this world would spread and split it asunder regardless of your own fate?

The thought gave you a strange mixture of peace and sadness, as you pondered it. You would very much like to see your friends smile in celebration. See what lives they could pursue next, free from bondage of the corruption that exists only to torment them. From banal things like Alicia's favourite pastries, through personal ambitions such as Smutkin or Phineous' art callings, or deeply personal experience like Claudia and Klaus inviting new life (or lives?) into a no longer tainted world, to something grand such as Olga and Celestine making out terms of a treaty that would see peace and prosperity bloom in these war torn lands...

...but then again, the knowledge that all these could come to pass - that what joy you do remember could be experienced not as a trap, but as a genuine expression of hope... yes, perhaps that would be enough.

Perhaps, given what you've already seen, you could already be, at least a little, at peace.

Laurentia's presence shifts with a mixture of emotions that to some extent reflected your thoughts, but despite appreciating your confidence in her following her facing her own fears successfully, she makes it a point to bring a message across:

Don't you dare give up on my account, Defier. You feel a mental impression of a motherly scolding, another memory associated with happier times. You think back an assurance of your own - your resolve is unchanged. You set out with an intent and are still pursuing it, and are going to continue all the way to conclusion.

But even so, you have to admit, receiving this request from Laurentia does warm your heart somewhat.

It's not just me. All of those who have chosen to accompany you, all of those who chose to pin your hopes on the glimmer of hope you have shared with them. I... apologise, for making you feel burdened, but I truly wish to ensure you remember that you have more than only your own heart and memories. You have also hearts of those around you.

Well, that was one way to look at it. As comfortable as you were for pursuing the quest on its own merit, perhaps it was good to be reminded that your companions may have just as well as you hold hopes. Ones you'd rather avoid letting down.

You cast your perception around, with additional care devoted to your companions, a small constellation that chose to drag itself around you. Some blazing more brightly than others, even putting aside Sparky who was all in a league of his own, but all with a warm, caring kernel of a spark.

Yes, regardless what success you may have had until now, you did owe it to them to see it all the way through.

So resolved, you shift your attention and narrow your focus on the path ahead. You still had a lot of ground to cover.

Or maybe you didn't, you think to yourself as the fog clears around you, and the monotone landscape of wetlands is disrupted by a pattern that felt vaguely familiar to you rising into existence around you. The fog had thinned, or maybe was gone entirely - it was hard to say because the world was in something of a haze. But that was not the most significant aspect to the feature for you to process.

That would be the structures.

Most of it was ramshackle tents and sheds erected hastily on top of, in the midst of or between wreckage and ruins of stone structures of ages past, only recently reclaimed from nature's grasp. The dwellings extended as far as you could see, at least in front of you.

Behind you was a wall, or at least something that once used to be an impenetrable barrier to sieges, now crumbled, but still a formidable obstacle you have no recollection of having breached.

Your immediate reaction is one of alarm - mirrored to some extent in faces of your companions as they too looked around you, hands on their weapons, anticipating attack at any moment. However, none came. And as you adjusted your focus, you realized why that was.

There were no enemies. Or at least, none immediately visible. Rather, shades of movement could be discerned between the structures. This came together with the eerie haze, telling you just how powerful that travel trance you've entered really was.

You were in Atlassia.

Or, at least, adjacent to it, as it were.

We should choose our path carefully, but swiftly. I don't think we will be able to remain in this stance without limits. You hear Laurentia's warning.

Still, having the immediate threat negated for the moment did give you a luxury of surveying the area deliberating on where to go next. And so you lift your gaze and look around.

Directly ahead of you, the path was straightforward and clear. Street of paved stones, bearing marks of heavy use in the past, where traffic of heavy carts dug sets of grooves into the stone, while missing and cracked tiles a testament to decades of neglect, only brought to light by more recent traffic clearing out the overgrowth. The path sloped upwards, towards an ominous shape of a temple looming in the distance.

Your fate would direct you there, you knew that. The concentration of ethereal blackness was thickest there, you could tell despite not actually seeing it in the current scenery.

However, there were two more points that merited your attention...

One was a vortex of dark energies, swirling, flowing and ebbing to your left. You felt Laurentia reel with disgust as your joined perception examined the phenomenon. Whatever was going on there could not be good. Then again, following your confrontation with the heart of darkness, it would ultimately not matter...

The other point of interest was to your right. In that direction the ruins of the city developed into a palace quarter, as ruins grew larger and more pretentious. Among them, some were clearly reconstructed in full, magnificent palaces reerected for the benefit of the prominent followers of the Beast. Perhaps that is where the officers would be residing, perhaps even Volt himself...

"Don't bother." A voice spoke up. You're not sure if she just followed your gaze or you were musing aloud, but Maia offered her commentary. "Vult is going to be where the action is, or where he expects it. If he's expecting us, he will be waiting for us up there, with that smug smirk on his face."

The mercenary princess spoke with bitter tone, but one not absent of undercurrent of admiration and yearning for a better ending.

"That vortex, however, is troubling." Queen Olga takes the vote next. "If you desire to head straight to the temple, I'm willing to handle whatever it is. Or at least ensure it does not create a problem for you."

It takes you a while to appreciate gravity of what the dark elven queen was saying with how matter of factly she stated her offer.

"What? My queen!"

Chloe, however, responded promptly, her horrified expression jumping from Olga to you, whom she addressed an unspoken plea.

"Sir Mouse..." One of the repenting mercenaries speaks up. "I don't think I can see or feel what you seem to be discussing, but the sense of wickedness I get from that direction... seems familiar. If the lady wishes to face it, I would guard her with my life."

The sentiment seems echoed by other penitents, though Chloe's expression seems strained as she conceals her own doubts.

>No ifs, buts or distractions, you are all going towards the temple. Whatever the vortex conceals, you'll deal with it as it comes - it may well be you will never need to worry about it.
>Whatever got even Olga concerned could not be allowed to develop. You would eliminate this variable before heading to the temple, together with your companions.
>As dangerous as it sounded, there was merit to Olga's idea. Allow her to deal with the vortex. Of course, you need not let her go alone... (suggest escort)
>other idea

>>6027722
I ate'nt dead
It's just inspiration is not always as quick as one would like, especially if it needs to be split between fun and work

>>6029553
>As dangerous as it sounded, there was merit to Olga's idea. Allow her to deal with the vortex. Of course, you need not let her go alone... (chloe & the repented merc who offered to escort)
>>6029558
we get it, just making sure you're still with us.

>>6029553
>>Whatever got even Olga concerned could not be allowed to develop. You would eliminate this variable before heading to the temple, together with your companions.
I'd rather we see for ourselves

>>6029551
>supporting >>6029628

>>6029553
>Whatever got even Olga concerned could not be allowed to develop. You would eliminate this variable before heading to the temple, together with your companions.

Doot soon

For a few moments, you agonize over your decision. Concerns expressed by the dark queen echoed your own. But could you afford this diversion? Or conversely, could you abet exposing Olga to face whatever was brewing out there without you to back her up?

Recognizing your hesitance, the queen had decided to make the decision for you.

"Go. I'll handle whatever that is. But the true objective lies ahead for you to confront." The dark elven woman speaks in a voice reminiscent of her authority as the monstrous overlord, yet with underlying softness you wonder whether she developed recently or simply no longer felt need to conceal.

In either case, she turned around and headed out towards the ominous vortex, raw energies swirling around her as she drew in what power she could handle in anticipation of a confrontation.

Chloe's gaze once again darted between you and her queen. What would have been a simple, automatic choice in the past now left her as hesitant as it did for you.

But at least this was a burden you could lift off her.

"Go. Keep her safe." You told the nimble half elf, and were rewarded by a small, earnest smile and a relieved nod.

"Thank you, Mouse. And good hunting." She said before hurrying off after Olga.

Then your attention fell on another expectant gaze. The mercenary that spoke earlier.

Was it wise to send him to accompany your two elven companions? Could you trust his resolve? The look in his eyes right now at least seemed earnest enough.

"If you feel called to protect her majesty in this, then go." You ultimately decide. For better or worse, you could not be there for everyone to curate their choices all the time. Most you could do was give them a chance to do what is right - and not deny them this chance should it come up.

"Thank you, sir. I won't fail you, your companions, or the goddess, ever again."

Bold words, but you take them with a nod. And as the mercenary turns to leave, you look across the rest of the companions.

"Is there anyone else who wishes to join them?"

Three more mecenaries step forward, two from the first group, one from Hicks' party. And alongside them, Phineous.

"Um, boss, I hope you don't mind, but I kinda feel like I could be more useful with them."

This takes you a little bit by surprise, although perhaps it should not. You never hid before your team that you held her majesty in highest esteem, and you felt it was one of the emotions that resonated particularly well with the sophisticated orc.

"Of course. Take care, my friend." You tell him, prompting a grin, and an attempt at a salute.

As the orc followed the departing group, the two elves' forms having already dispersed in the hazy landscape around you, you turn your gaze back forward. There was no putting it off, your objective still waited ahead of you, and you better made good use of the time your companions would seize for you.

Without another word, you set out onwards, the constellation of your remaining companions following along. For the moment you can still register on the edge of your consciousness, presence of the group that split off, following queen Olga. A thought occurs to you whether this group remains hidden in this... bubble... halfway to the shadowy plane, or is by now using different method of concealing herself, but ultimately are left simply hoping her majesty knows what she's doing.

I don't think you need to fear for your companions. I believe Olga has been paying attention, and the Beast shall not get the better of her. You feel Laurentia's reassurance. Of course I was wrong in this judgment countless times before... but this time, yes, this time things are different enough to fill me with faith and confidence.

You thank her for sharing this with you, and proceed forward with your heart slightly lighter.

So you progress into the depths of the ruined city of Atlassia. Making your way down the cracked pavement of what used to be main street of a bustling metropolis, you stride past shacks, huts and sheds interspersed with training grounds and stockpiles, without paying much attention to specifics of what was going on in them on the material plane.

Even so, that didn't mean you were left entirely blissfully unaware.

Along with the ambient pressure of darkness, which grew ever so slightly thicker with each step you took, you were assaulted by spiritual vector of the expression of despair and pain mixed with occasional abandonment and submission, all that mixed between cries of currently tormented captives (or, in surprisingly many cases, mercenaries tormented by their peers) and echoes of cruelty and debauchery long past, etched into memory of the ruined structures and seeped into the soil along with blood of innocents.

You felt Laurentia advance alongside you, her emotions deliberately kept level under the weight of sensations and memories.

Exchanging an aetheral squeeze of reassurance with her, you take comfort in knowing that the confrontation ahead of you was one long time coming.

And so you proceed, remembering to some extent the dreams and vision of the past, as the landscape around you thickens and coalesces into the abyssal blackness, and the pressure mounts accordingly. Consciously or inadvertently, your remaining companions draw closer to you, their presence reassuring to you and each other alike.

"Leader, permission to stick close. My vision is useless in this landscape."

"Granted, Tithe." You reply automatically as the gargoyle settles down on your shoulder.

Finally you reached the foot of the temple.

You were expected.

Although as far as you could tell, the mortal mercenaries all around you remained unaware of your incursion, you stood in a desolate landscape of black against black, with grey stone structure looming away over you, the path ahead taking form of a wide stairway.

And then it was gone. The ground shook, and the ambience drained of what little light and colour remained, prompting a panicked yelp from your spiritual companion.

I'm fine. I'm fine. She assured you as she quickly composed herself.

Then, shapes begun to emerge.

First to appear were the dogs. The familiar shadowy beasts you had encountered before. And as soon as they coalesced into existence, they threw themselves at you and your companion.

Raising your weapons, accompanied by a chorus of grunts, short invocations to the goddess and opening tunes of Smutkin's battle music, the violence finally started in earnest.

Shadowy beasts charged at you - and fell under the blades of your companions without reaching you. But it was not lost on you, that unlike the tendrils of blackness, these seemed unaffected by the aura following you, with possible - and significant - exception of their capability of being felled.

You did not have time to ponder much of these matters as the continuously forming black dogs were beginning to be joined by a wider variety of phantoms(?) - from mercenaries, to their grotesque mockeries you saw in the mercenary outpost days ago, from orcs and orc-like demons to those taking form of beautiful women and handsome men. And eventually, as if to just watch over the carnage of their lesser brethren, a pair of statuesque giants, moving with finality of a gravestone, took positions on either side of the stairway forward, and as soon as they did, moving in sync, they swung the hammers they were wielding at the stairway, shattering it and obscuring the temple in an opaque cloud that remained in place, becoming an obstacle that is clearly more than just a swirl of disturbed powder.

Of course, you were not exactly in position to worry about the way forward right now, with the stream of shadowy monsters pouring down on you from every direction.

Or were you?

Despite growing amount of enemies, your companions' ability seemed more than a match for what was coming. The repenting mercenaries spread out, and successfully battled the enemies approaching in their direction, keeping the beasts and monsters at bay, accompanied by Elle's blade, with Minerva and Diana reinforcing their line like pillars of light, the twin scouts Harriet and Janet darting around to provide support where needed, with Tithe swooping around, filling the same role in the third dimension.

You took on your share of enemies, cleaving them down effortlessly, monstrous forms disintegrating into wisps of smoke burning away as it withdrew back into the blackness beyond.

You were a mountain, and the waves of enemies broke themselves upon you.

But, like a mountain, you were rendered effectively immobile. And like a mountain, the endless cycle of tides, would eventually chip at you and wear you down.

This would not do.

Just as you were thinking this, there was something akin to a snap, and a distant discharge. Stealing a few moments between one strike and another, you let your attention follow the disturbance, and are showed towards where the dark vortex used to be.

It was gone.

That was... good, right? It meant Olga and her entourage had succeeded. But did they? Was that what happened? And were they going to make your way towards you - through this tide of shadows?

You almost begin to consider whether you should attempt to move the fight in that direction, hoping to rejoin with your companions.

"Mouse, you need to move forward." A clear voice rings out effortlessly.

"Sparky?" You ask.

"We can hold back the darkness." The boy asserts, his innocent face a mask of determination. "You were there for us, now it's our time to be there for you."

"But Sparky," You can't help but argue. "I always knew you are there for me."

The mask cracks, and Sparky's expression momentarily softens into the careless tone he sometimes showed in his downtime. And then he was struggling to hug you, something he occasionally did in his past form as well, his short arms inadequate for the task so he helped himself with wings, and you were briefly enveloped in otherwordly softness.

The moment passes, entirely too quickly, and certainly too quickly for the enemy to have taken advantage of the momentary lull. Or so you suspect anyway.

The angel is right. In order to end this, you need to push forward, and have faith in your companions to hold fast. You turn towards the temple to proceed - but not alone.

"Wait!"

Not alone. This was what she came for, and you would not deny her. Maia, the mercenary princess, withdraws from the line of battle to emerge at your side.

"I did not forget. Come."

Next step you took was in rhythm with Smutkin's Allegro, and emphasized with a flash of light as Sparky turned around, a flaming blade of light extending from his hand.

It was time to face the heart of corruption, and its most prominent slave.

First, though, you would have to reach it. Right now, two entities stood in your way that had stood withdrawn from the onslaught so far - the two shadowy giants, standing taller even than you. They would have to go, not just because you felt not too comfortable at thought of leaving them for your companions to deal with.

The other issue was that the stairway seemed... gone. Obscured or destroyed. But that was an issue for later, first things first. And that meant coming up with a plan that would not expose Maia to too much danger-

"I'll take the one on the left." The mercenary princess says and springs into action. You don't allow yourself the luxury of watching her succeed or fail, instead charging forward to ensure the other giant does not intercept her.

Upon engaging, you take a few moments to assess your opponent's fighting style, and once you get the feel for its cumbersome, but still forceful and treacherously nimble movements, begin working on creating an opening to finish him, slightly distracted by your worries for the reckless princess.

"You." You hear her say between gasps of exertion. "Will. Not. Stand. In. My." The words are punctuated by grunts and growls of pain and annoyance from both giants. "Way!"

There's a sound of a blade sliding into something that yields, just about at the same time as your own strike sees the other giant collapse. The bodies are not even done settling on the ground when they begin to disintegrate into acrid black wisps.

You exchange looks with Maia and give her a respectful nod. She reciprocates with a bitter smile. "Let's go."

As you turn your focus onwards, you are reminded of the other issue: where exactly are you going?

Even if all other lights would go out, the one showing the way cannot be extinguished. You feel Laurentia share, though the thought is accompanied with a sense of surprise and confusion, as if she herself was unsure what compelled her to share that.

Whichever the case, your next concern is dispelled along with the opaque shroud, revealing the stairway ahead. Locking step with Maia, you head forward.

One step at a time, you press onwards deeper into the blackness, the only distinguishing feature of the landscape being the stone steps below. Even the previously vaguely distinct horizon is obstructed, and the eerie surroundings end up leaving you guessing whether you even go up or down. Only thing that is clear is a faint aura you perceive accompanying you which you attribute to Laurentia, and of course the distinctly feminine figure of princess Maia.

The princess's expression of resolve and determination is featuring a gradually deepening scowl, as her sentiment seems to echo your own concern of how long are you going to travel.

For better or worse, that particular matter is resolved soon enough, and the uneasy silence is shattered by a deep, confident voice.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?"

The darkness recedes somewhat, revealing a paved surface. A courtyard or a terrace, that was not important. What was important was the improvised throne, a wooden structure that clearly took some effort to put up, striking a balance between rugged robustness and craftsmanship meant to convey projection of power, most prominently through a crimson banner with black dog's head in it.

"Aberrant ogre, author of so much of my frustration that I'm compelled to admit a measure of respect."

Vult, the general of the mercenary army, charismatic unifier of the sellswords. Saviour, conqueror, and betrayer. The man sat comfortably in his chair, looking you in the eye with smug confidence of someone who went undefeated for very long, and has good reason to believe he would remain that way - or someone who took painstaking effort to create such impression.

He breaks eye contact with you and slides his gaze towards Maia.

"And her highness, princess knight Maia, my beloved."

You could almost tell the exact moment where whatever Maia was mentally preparing herself to tell him folded itself up and collapsed like a house of cards, leaving her picking up strands of her thoughts standing there with eyes wide open and mouth only slightly less so.

"...!"

>Give her a moment and let her speak. She came with you for this exact moment.
>Address Vult on your own. She needs a moment to compose herself, you can earn her that by engaging in some banter.
>Pick up the initiative. Perhaps you can yet talk Vult out of allowing himself to be enslaved by the Beast.
>Attack first. Anything you say will be ignored and mocked by him as long as he believes himself in position of strength.
>other idea.

>>6037213
>>Address Vult on your own. She needs a moment to compose herself, you can earn her that by engaging in some banter.
At last,16 threads to meet the villain. Now, where's that piece of shit Kin? How different could have things went if we killed him when we had the chance.

>>6037213
>Address Vult on your own. She needs a moment to compose herself, you can earn her that by engaging in some banter.

>>6037213
>Address Vult on your own. She needs a moment to compose herself, you can earn her that by engaging in some banter.
we're here

As much as you trusted Maia that she would not be so easily manipulated, you could tell that Vult knew how to hit her where she was most vulnerable, and she was clearly reeling.

You needed to buy her some time to recover.

"I have doubts that you even know what the word means." You snort at the mercenary general. "I have seen the horrors you inflict on the innocents, both unknown, and friends of the one you claim to care about."

The man on the throne turns nonchalantly in your direction.

"Really, Ogre, this is how you wish to play it?" Vult's barytone voice reverberates through the darkness, uncanny quality behind his speech hinting at the font of power he was drawing on. "Something tells me you have some measure of idea of struggles I had to face, and choices I had to make."

"Do you regret any?" You ask.

"I regret none of my choices, as they led me to this moment, where the only adversary to have posed a genuine threat to me, has bared his belly to me."

He certainly seemed confident enough. Over your years you had seen some false bravado from both man and monster, but could not see any in Vult as he currently was. Either he was free of doubt, or was masterfully concealing them. You figure that as a mercenary leader it would make sense for him to be capable of either.

"Then you feel no remorse at cruelty, pain and death inflicted by you and your men?"

"Ogre, your kind comes from the pits of the dark citadel. You, better than most, know the primordial truth of the world - you have what you take. Even the goddess's goons understand that much, although their method of creating weakness to be harvested by the otherwise feeble old men is inherently inferior to simple, honest strength."

You feel a swelling of indignance from your spiritual companion, somewhat tempered by her knowledge of the nature of what you both are standing up against - and reinforced by the hope she has recently gained in earnest.

"Is that how you justify your wickedness? By accepting it as a norm and necessity?"

"I need not justify anything, Ogre. I'm simply enforcing the natural order, and placing those below me in their place. And deep down, you know this to be true as well. After all, we are more alike than you think."

"How do you figure?" You ask, trying not to give away too much confusion at this assessment.

"I would be a poor commander if I was not paying attention to my rivals. I've learned something of you, perhaps something even you are unaware of. I know that we both have our ambitions set high. We both inspire by example. And we both know how to use every tool at our disposal to get our way. And our goal is nothing less than to change the world, into the shape of our choosing."

"If that is the case, then somehow I don't think the shapes of the world we seek have anything in common."

"Are you certain of that, Ogre? Think about it. We both came into this world and found it wanting. And neither of us hesitated when it came to pursuit of change. Perhaps you and I have some differences in sensibilities. Admittedly you have shown that even relying on the effeminate lightshow the clergy is putting forward you can achieve some result, which is something I can respect. But that is just a masquerade, a velvet veil over the savage truth."

At this, Vult finally stands up from his throne. A towering man, perhaps made even taller by influence of the dark contract he's entered. He'd loom over Maia for sure, though your ogre stature does not afford him this luxury over you. Still, at this distance he doesn't have to lean back too much to keep eye contact.

"You and me both - we defy the world, and succeed."

You steal a glance at Maia, who seems to have composed herself somewhat and was listening to your exchange. Perhaps she'd be able to talk some sense to him - as unlikely as it sounded given his apparent confidence. As if to emphasize the point, Vult went on:

"But as you say, our visions are not aligned. Your foolish choice to challenge me here has earned you this one offer from me, however." The mercenary general raises his hand and makes a sweeping motion. "Bend the knee. If you are even half as smart as I think you are, you must understand that you have no hope of defeating me. But I could use someone of your ability - and allow you a certain measure of autonomy in keeping your delusions."

His gaze drifts to Maia.

"...and you, my love, we can be finally together as I had planned from the start."

She blinks. And Vult looks back to you.

"So what is it going to be, Ogre? Will you accept your... vision... be subsumed into mine? Or are we going to end it the way it was always meant to end?"

He looks at you expectantly, and you know he's not going to wait for long.

Obviously, there was no point in humouring his offer. Whether he was being earnest or asking you to open yourself to a "mercy" killing, you could not give up on your quest, or the fate of your friends, so easily.

>Refuse, and brace yourself for combat.
>Allow/encourage Maia to say her piece. Perhaps this is her best and possibly only chance.
>Question whether his vision is really his own. You're unsure if he'll be willing to talk further or get violent after that, though...
>Attempt to convince him with words yourself (write-in required(and it would have to be an exceptionally good one to work))
>He's not going to listen to reason in this state. Strike first.

>>6043182
>>Allow/encourage Maia to say her piece. Perhaps this is her best and possibly only chance.
well
here's your cue

>>6043182
>Allow/encourage Maia to say her piece. Perhaps this is her best and possibly only chance.
I fully expect for this to fail.

>>6043182
>Allow/encourage Maia to say her piece. Perhaps this is her best and possibly only chance.
do I expect this to do anything ? no. but Maia putting everything she needs out will make her grow and leave that behind.

>>6043182
>Allow/encourage Maia to say her piece. Perhaps this is her best and possibly only chance.
I think Maia knew from the start this probably wouldn’t work. But for her own sake she had to try, so the time is now.

This was it. The moment that she came here with you for.

You would not deprive her of it.

Without letting the dangerous man ahead out of your field of vision, you turn slightly towards your red haired companion. For a moment you wonder if you should prompt her, but luckily that necessity is quickly dispelled.

"Vult. I love you." She says.

The mercenary lord's smug smile momentarily shifts into one of even deeper satisfaction, and his gaze falls squarely on the mercenary princess. Perhaps he imagined that his control over the tomboyish beauty was even more complete than he imagined it to be... and considering circumstances of this fight, perhaps it was not such an unlikely scenario after all.

"There, I said it. The words I couldn't bring myself to..." She swallows a tear. "But now... I may not get another chance to say."

"We are going to have all the time-" Vult says in a tone that's almost gentle, but is interrupted when Maia raises her voice.

"I know you are still there!" She yells. "The man who stood up for his comrades. Who vowed to stand up for what is right. The man whose powerful arms could raise sword in defense of the helpless, but also reach out and carry a wounded friend out of harm's way, or gently ruffle hair of a starry eyed child looking up at his hero."

"Of course I am still here." The mercenary leader's posture shifts somewhat as his expression darkens. "You are not trying to manipulate me, are you, my dear? How unbecoming for the princess knight to stoop to such practices."

"What? No!" Maia responds. "Vult, do you not see what is happening to you? Is all this... this... this darkness what you truly want? Or have you surrendered to it?"

"Surrender?" Vult snarls. "Maia, Maia, Maia... I did the exact opposite of surrender. I have seized, with my own hands, the power I need, to carve this corrupt, perverse world into what it is meant to be." His eyes, now openly ablaze with malicious intent, briefly skip to you, then back to Maia. "I'm impressed how well his technique had worked you. But it doesn't matter. I know just what it is you need."

>>6047861
You're not actually sure when was it that Maia drew her blade again - you're pretty sure she had sheathed it when Vult first came into view.

But now it was in her hand, and with a resounding ring was deflecting Vult's own massive sword aside.

Your first instinct was to spring into action then and there. You knew Maia to be a skillful fighter, but by all accounts both in technique and in raw physical power Vult should have had her outmatched. Only advantage the redheaded tomboy had over the man she had looked up to in more ways than one, was her almost elfin nimbleness.

In a flurry of movement, the rugged mercenary princess weathered the initial assault, and in the moment before you could commit, another instinct - perhaps not entirely your own - had you hesitate, whether it was truly the best idea to intervene.

And in truth, for the time being, Maia seemed to be holding her own. Vult pressed against her with more savagery than skill, while Maia wove, dodged and swept his blade aside - well, not nearly effortlessly, but retaining a measure of grace.

A thought occurred to you - perhaps her words did in fact reach the mercenary leader? Perhaps he did not wish to truly beat her?

Perhaps his less than perfect approach was also a sign of his internal struggle against the Beast?

I don't think that is what is happening. Laurentia informs you. At least, not fully. I don't think he is ready to turn on the Enemy. Rather, he seems to be struggling... against himself. The goddess conveys she herself is unsure, as the Beast's influence obscures Vult's heart's intent. I think he himself is not quite sure how to feel about princess Maia, or if he does at all.

As if in response to Laurentia's hypothesis, Vult speaks between one swing of his blade and another:

"Why do you resist? Part of you must know this is a futile exercise."

"Fighting for your love is never futile." Maia retorts curtly. "Even if I fell here, I would regret it for rest of my life if I hadn't tried."

"Is that sweet delusion the only reason?" Vult taunts her. "I will make you forget about it, ever as I teach you what it means to be a woman."

"That is not something a dog on a leash can teach anyone." Maia retorts, prompting Vult to roar in anger and redouble his onslaught.

And Maia, for her part, weathered it.

You're not sure if that was the power of love, or some drills and exercise you've seen Maia go through on your way here, bt in either case she was able to remain firm - but at the same time, she was still pressed hard by Vult's prowess, and whatever forces were at play here, circumstances urged you to do something - anything - to help.

But what?

>This has gone on long enough,. Intervene, and aim to kill.
>This has gone on long enough,. Intervene, and aim to incapacitate.
>This is not your place to intervene... but perhaps you could at least cheer for Maia to inspire her.
>Address Vult on your own, perhaps there is something you could say to help give Maia an edgve... (write-in)
>Here you are at the heart of darkness, with the mercenary leader ahead. Cleary this was the good time to meditate.
>other idea

>>6047864
>This is not your place to intervene... but perhaps you could at least cheer for Maia to inspire her.
I'm sure the moment we jump in is the moment the beast will go full power, so let's cheer Maia since she's making Vult have some sort of reaction.
the last option is pretty tempting,ngl btw remember to archive this, OP.

>>6047864
>This is not your place to intervene... but perhaps you could at least cheer for Maia to inspire her.
I'm half tempted to go for the meditate option for the meme but that is retarded.

>>6047864
>Address Vult on your own, perhaps there is something you could say to help give Maia an edgve... (write-in)
>”Tell me Vult, are you truly the master, or merely a favored slave? You claim to have seized power, yet you dwell in the Beast’s city, doing the Beast’s will, thinking the Beast’s thoughts.”

>>6047864
>>Address Vult on your own, perhaps there is something you could say to help give Maia an edge...
>"I think you've misjudged your station comparing us... I've come here for the source of the Darkness. Speaking of..."
>Defend Maia with Light magic. "Both duelists being backed by a god should make an even fight."
She's doing it! She can do it!