Roswaal looked over the contents of the Gospel, feeling both relief and apprehension.

One of the last few entries stated that the 'the waters will rise', and it showed when the wall of water arrived by Emurdol's wrath in his terrifying form.

As everything went according to the writ, his aims are still secured and his goals have a chance to be realized.

What brought him a slight concern, however, was that it did not mention anything about the Necromancer turning into an entity of cosmic capability beyond imagination. He drained every mana in the world and even turned back time to repair the damages. A feat of magic that no one in existence nor in history has ever accomplished.

Or more specifically….

"It said not a thing about Ser Viandegroc's actions."

Viandegroc was the one in control of that Horror, Roswaal knew that, and the writ said nothing about it. It mentioned Rem was about to die, but it said nothing about Emurdol's Mother being responsible. It only mentioned that the servant will be saved by the man.

The conclusion was easy to find, even if the man never answered his question before he left to address his Mother.

The Dead are outside the Gospel's overview. It showed when an entry said that Emurdol banished himself into the wand but it never said anything about his body being possessed by Viandegroc and began purging the forest of in his stead.

"Hmph." Roswaal shut the black book in a snap before embracing it close to his chest, tenderly and lovingly, the memory of his Teacher crossing his mind like a lost lover. "No matter. You will bring me to the completion of my goals, Ser Emurdol."

Rem had nearly complicated things. The necromancer's involvement in Emilia's life is vital, and he was nearly driven off. But still, her poisoned and cured state happened to be a crucial factor in the future.

There's no way Emurdol would leave without answers. He still needs to address certain things about his circumstances, and when he does, it will make certain of his prolonged presence in the mansion.

For now, he will have to wait.

"I wonder what surprise will you conjure for us next come two weeks."

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

Rem's head shot up from the pillow, feeling like she had nearly drowned when she was sent out of her dreams and her eyes shot open, taking deep heaving breaths to regain what oxygen she desperately needed. First, she felt the heat on her head, then she felt the absolute brittleness of her entire frame. Her heart created a practical drum, beating loudly in her chest that she could feel it touching the walls of its chamber. She wouldn't be surprised if the bed shook with it in tandem.

Her head flopped tiredly against the pillow, feeling like boned fish as she breathed in and out as if she had ran the entire nation of Lugunica from up to down, incapable of even the slightest movements in the aftermath. Even keeping her eyes open seemed like an arduous thing to do, eyelids weighing like iron to keep up. She could only see through a tiny gap.

Other than the fragility of her entire body, feeling like it could crumble at any moment as if she were a withering old lady, she could not feel her limbs. They must have lost the circulation of blood due to lying atop them, most likely. Her mouth was horribly dry, and tasted bitterly, as if she ate meat and went to bed without even a drink of water.

The Maid scrunched up her face and wondered with lamentation over how she ended up like this. She patiently waited for her condition to stabilize, the cold feeling of her limbs restoring their blood supply as well as the drum-like beating heart in her chest becoming steady and calm, her eyes were finally able to open.

Her still-numb hand quickly reached up to her face and covered her sensitive vision from the light of the lamp hanging on the wall, cold fingers meeting her countenance. She felt the cool air of the evening, around her shoulders and even on her back that rested on the soft mattress.

Looking down, she finally realized that she was naked underneath the covering, and that her Elder Sister was knelt on the floor on her bedside, head resting against the bed and gripping her right hand in a tight grip.

"Dear Sister…." She whispered, wondering what was going on.

The soft mention of her name was enough to stir Ram up, and immediately, the elder sister's face shot upwards as she realized what she heard, looking at Rem straight in the eyes with full disbelief. Her mouth shook, her crimson orbs were wide. The image of composure and confidence that was characteristic of her was nonexistent.

The sight threw Rem off, worry and horror filling her heart in concern, "Dear Sister…?"

The next condition she suffered since waking up is suffocation and a wet shoulder, courtesy of Ram's assault that consisted of a crushing hug around her neck and the wailing tears that dripped on her bare flesh.

The night soon followed with rejoicing, thanking, and a belly full of bitter meals.

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

Darkness. Darkness was everywhere. Sound didn't exist. Time didn't exist. Sensation didn't exist. Scent didn't exist. There was nothing to be touched.

Meili stood dumbfounded, wondering why she's the only tangible being in this nothingness. But her limited knowledge gave her the only conclusion, "Am I in heaven?"

She remembered being pinned under a tree, another crushing her hand while her entire body was broken in a variety of ways. Shattered left shoulder. Cracked ribs. Bent knee. Crushed ankle. Her broken hand was already obvious. There happened to be a stick buried in her back at some point but she wasn't sure. She would have died sooner from bleeding if that were the case.

The last thing she saw before her slow demise was a Rock Golem and her 'rescuer', a terrifying but loving voice speaking in her head while a skeleton's hand made sure she felt peace in her final moments by caressing her head.

And now she found herself here in the nothingness, naked and now in a healthier state. No bruises, no bleedings, no black veins, no deformities, and no pain; just the white body of a 12 year old assassin, the only colorful, noisy, and mobile thing in the blackness around her.

She didn't know what to expect in death. She was not the type to dwell in such a thing. Her daily life consisted of interacting with the witchbeasts at her command, arguing with Elsa, doing errands for Mama, and watching someone die. "Or is this heeeell….?" Blackness might be a valid thing if she was condemned to such a place but she expected something else.

She wasn't expecting an answer to her question, however.

An emotionless voice uttered everywhere. "If it was either of those, it would not be this stagnant and empty."

"EEP!" Her yelp echoed all around her, the nothingness amplifying her surprise in a manner that it felt as if the realm yelped alongside her. "Wh-what was that?!"

This time, the voice came from behind her. And it was undeniably male and young, "An answer."

"Hya!" She would have fallen on her rear as she jolted from her place, but the realm doesn't accommodate gravity. She instead remained in place in the air, but she didn't have the time to realize that and curled her legs to herself while she covered her bare chest with her hands. "Who are you!?"

The person stared straight into her eyes, barely caring about the fact that a little naked girl was floating in the air in front of him, hands behind him as he stood ramrod straight and responded, "Your Host." He raised up a white hand level to his face and snapped his pale fingers.

Gravity was conceptualized and Meili landed roughly on stone floors, eliciting a squeak from her. Groaning and rubbing her back, she sat up and looked over the man in his full form.

And he was unexpectedly young. He almost seemed close to her age despite his absurd height that Elsa matched. His dark robes almost seemed to blend with the murky emptiness around them and it made his pale features shine. Just like his hair, his face was white, pale enough to look like a corpse, especially with his empty visage. His green eyes were the only ones that expressed any sort of emotion, piercing and stone cold with indifferent malice.

His sudden bow of welcome negated the impression, however; upper body bent forward and gesturing to the nonexistent scenery behind him with one hand, exhuming the most graceful of demeanors.

"Welcome to the Court, Little One." He greeted, polite and impassive. "Follow me and we may begin your rehabilitation." He told as he turned around and began walking onwards to nowhere, his feet hidden beneath his long robes that almost scraped its edges against the stone floors.

"Wait!" Meili called out to him, the thought of being left alone in the darkness horrified her despite her calm disposition towards it at first. "What is this place?"

He didn't answer nor did he stop walking. There was a circle of tangibility around him, existence in the form of stone ground coming to be in a 2 meter radius. It's as if he's in the center of a spotlight in a stage, illuminating only himself and anything in his immediate proximity.

The little girl had no spotlight around her. She's only lying atop nothing. She only felt the stony ground because he was nearby. Now that he's moving further away, the terror that this 'Court' was beginning to induce started creeping into her heart.

"W-Wait! I'm coming!" Rising to her feet, fighting the sensation of discomfort when she literally felt nothing below the soles of her feet despite 'stepping'on something, she ran after him and went into the radius of his spotlight. She never felt relieved to be walking barefoot on stone before. Looking up to him, she covered her chest again with her hands even though he wasn't moving his straightforward gaze away.

After a full minute where the discomfort of being naked compared to him was starting to get overbearing, she asked, "Do you have anything for me to weeaar?"

"You are not naked, Little One." He replied nonchalantly, the continuous motion of walking and looking straightforward never broken.

She frowned, looked down on herself, then looked back at him exasperatedly, "What?"

"When you don't want to be." He finished.

She suddenly felt enclosed. When she looked at herself once more, she found the clothes that signified her occupation in her living life worn over her once-bare form. A long dark cape with a red underside resting on her shoulders, black long sleeved shirt that kept her warm from Gusteko's eternal winter and stripped stockings underneath a short black skirt that hugged her legs tightly down to her ankles where her feet wore flat-heeled boots, tapping softly against the ground. "Huh." She felt her sleeves a little with her white fingers, finding comfort in her modesty.

"What's your name, Misteeeer?" She asked, wanting to avoid the oppressive silence in the Court that only her footsteps could break in short intervals.

"You will know soon enough." He curtly answered.

"Why not tell me noooow? It's not like it'll change anythiiiing."

"Correct. Knowing my name changes nothing, therefore I will not tell you."

She pouted at his consistent tone of voice, curt and straight to the point. It's obvious that he was not inclined to be talking to anybody, he's just there to do his job.

Meili wasn't inclined to give up so quickly. "What is this plaaace?"

"Nothing." He answered simply.

She tried to be patient, "Meaning….?"

"This place epitomizes pure nothingness and the nothingness is overwritten by memories."

"Memoriiiieees?"

"The ground we walk on was once the place I born in, but it has been years since my last sight of it." He was continually unchanging in its emotionless drone, even though he was talking about his own home. "Have they changed it or is it as stagnant as always?" Despite asking, he was devoid of any genuine inquiry.

She looked down on the ground, seeing nothing but grey and uneven rock, jagged unlike floors that would normally be found in a home. She gathered one conclusion, "A caaave?" She inferred.

"We existed as a legitimate society deep within the ground, never found and never disturbed by the World Above."

"Ooooh." She walked up to his side, peering at his white features with interest shining in her eyes of olive green. "So that's why your face is all whiiiite. You don't get a lot of sunshiiine."

He gave no reply but he suddenly broke from the rhythm of his movements, raising his hands at the level of his chest and clapped. It was a thunderous sound, enough to match a thunder strike that occurred right next to her. Meili yelped once more and covered her ears as it rung.

"Ooowieee! How do you clap so hard, Mist—OOF!" She was about to complain but she suddenly hit a rock wall, stumbling backwards as she held her cheek. She turned to look and it was not a wall like she thought. It was a square block of stone, and there was a skinned corpse lying atop it. Looming over the red body was her Host, frozen in place as if time had stopped. The look on his face, however, was a complete opposite of what Meili knew. Instead of being detached, his face was animated with determination and an excited smile on his face.

"Wha…." She was lost for words.

"This…." She successfully held down her yelp when her Host suddenly appeared behind his frozen counterpart, staring at it dispassionately. "…was the time when I attempted the lowest technique of the Order."

She recalled the words he said about what this place holds only and found the conclusion as to why something bizarre is happening in front of her. "Memories…"

"It was unworthy of any praise. Zombies are merely dolls that children could make, easily broken and thrown away." He explained, circling around the stone block and heading onwards to his original path. Meili just realized that the radius of existence had expanded as far as a hundred meters away, illuminating more extensions of stony ground, showing other frozen scenes of memories. "But I was intent on its flesh. A Flesh Golem worthy of me."

She took a glance on the new surroundings, glanced at the frozen scenery of his attempt at creating the Flesh Golem, then back to his walking form before she ran after him, not intent on being left alone in a place that doesn't make sense.

"Hey, Misteer. Are all those…things your memoriieess?" She asked as soon as she reached his side and matched his pace, walking past a scene where her Host, looking a few ages younger compared to the last scene, stood with his hands glowing in power, surrounded by an array of large bony spikes made out of what looked like spinal columns that seemed to have sprouted from the ground around him like a blooming flower.

"Events of my former life." His gaze never wandered anywhere except forward, barely giving anything else a glance except what's in front of him. "The ones nearby are considered the memorable chapters."

Meili looked at another memory that's just up ahead, an image of a blindfolded little boy holding a bony wand that was offered to him by a tall woman, wearing dark robes just like the Host and sporting features of pure white as well, a rare smile of warmth spread over her beautiful face with glowing onyx-blue eyes. "Is that your mama?"

"The one and only." He had broken again the rhythm by staring at the frozen event all the way until he walked past it. When he did walk past it, he still fixed his eyes on it by looking over his shoulder before facing straightforward again. "Regretfully a shame….I brought her nothing but shame for having brought death upon myself before I could contribute anything."

His voice is still dead, impassive and emotionless. Despite speaking of what could possibly be a depressing moment for him, he was consistent in his detachment.

And it silenced all notions for conversation Meili had. The Host was not a mysterious entity that was going to welcome her to the afterlife like she always thought. He was just another human being like her. He had a life, and it was cut short. He had yet to mature, yet to suffer what the world truly is, or even a moment to find love.

And as of now, she suffered the same fate. She will never grow old to become a woman like Elsa, beautiful and seductive. She will not have the chance to grow her strength ever again. She won't be able to improve her lesser self in the coming years anymore. She won't see Elsa anymore. She won't be spending another day with her, arguing over nonsense and addressing her morbid tendencies.

There's nothing coming for her anymore. Everything she knew is now cut off from her. Going on any further will reward her absolutely nothing. No more opportunities. No more future. No more growth. No more tomorrow. No more another second. NOTHING.

"Mister….." Her voice was barely above a whisper, but the deafening silence of the Court made it audibly clear as a normal volume. The hollowness of her voice is palpable, "…Am I really dead?"

"Without a doubt, you are dead." There was no mercy in his words and his detachment never broke. "And just like me, there is nothing significantly meaningful in the short life you lived."

She didn't know what she was expecting when she asked that even though she had all the evidences. To hear it so bluntly, factually and without hesitation in any way struck her deeply than realizing it on her own would. Her head bowed, solemn. Her head had a slight tremble as the tears flowed out of her eyes. Eventually, the futility of going on struck her down like poison. Her legs crumbled, collapsing on her knees and hands, the small crack on the dam rupturing, releasing the overflow of her tears and dripping to the stone floors. She didn't wail, only sobbed, a hiccup and a hitch of her shoulders, but the anguish is still the same.

She didn't know if the Host stopped for her sakes or simply went on without her. She's fine either way.

Not like it matters anyway.

But even so, she wanted at least somebody to comfort her. Consoling words or even a hand on her shoulder, she won't act proud like she did in the Living World to deny any of it. She'll accept it, all of it. She needed someone….someone….someone….

"Elsa…."

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

Bodies littered the entire clearing looked over by the slowly rising sun; lolling tongues, spilt entrails, puddles of blood, dismembered limbs, broken bones, some recently dead, some rotting days ago, some from his own hands, some from Mother's handiwork the night when Viandegroc and Ram brought Rem back to the village. An oddly consistent detail that could be seen when looked closely was that most of the ulgarm are missing a single digit from their paws.

"Tch." And it happened to be the most impossible part to find in terms of compatibility and symmetry in many senses of the word, Emurdol found out.

He sat on the center of the massacre zone, his seat elevated thanks to the body pile beneath his skeletal rear. His work left his face, hands and chest splattered with blood, taking him back to the state he was in before being brought back to the mansion. In his skeletal grasp was a brown-skinned hand that wouldn't be out of place in a little girl's arm if it was still attached.

Rebuilding the bones of a hand is one thing, rebuilding the flesh is a different matter. It already suffered necrosis and rendered incapable of being restored. The tree that landed on it must have expunged out needed amounts of blood that could have preserved it in stasis. Unlucky girl. Then again, Souls like Mother are not one for mercy. Making things worse for her victims than it already had is not above her.

Thanks to that, he had to practically start over from scratch, skinning the hand all the way to the bone. The flesh is dead but it's reusable as a good base. Any Priest of the Serpent could handle the raw reconstruction of flesh but rebuilding someone else's, especially when it's not one of their family members outside of themselves is a completely different story. The fact that he had to make it symmetrical made the task more daunting than it already is.

Emurdol is no master of the flesh compared to his retired seniors but he tried anyway. On the bright side, flesh is very malleable in the right conditions so it's easy to morph its size appropriately. Besides, he's had different ideas on his blueprints instead of the standard design of a little girl's hand.

Searching for components took a whole afternoon and the entire evening, and dawn is just on the horizon. An army of skeletons brought a great haul that gave him large quantities of what he needed. Witchbeast fingers, claws, teeth, bones, ligaments, muscles, tendons, and a slight composition of the Alpha's anatomy that allowed it to compress its mass mysteriously. Studying the component took only an hour and a half, a little bit different from the ones that are just like it in Pandemonium.

With a sizable amount of his blood now inside the dismembered hand, his eyes flashed green and brown fingers twitched, twitched a little more before fully flexing, moving in accordance to his will. Partially. Its algorithm is similar to artificial skeletons or the reanimated dead.

Resting it above his skeletal hand, he traced his left thumb over the small palm. Smooth and delicate, without wrinkles and fresh, soft when pushed but secretly packed with immense muscle structure. The fingers closed around his thumb, tightly as if it didn't want his touch to leave. He wasn't sure if that's the hand's doing or his own subconsciousness but he somehow felt warm on the inside. A forgotten and uncomfortable feeling, brings back bad memories too.

His eyes flashing green again, the fingers uncurled and sprouted out long claws from the fingertips, composed of the teeth and claws of the witchbeasts he harvested. He watched as they turn from large needles into half-sized cutting knives, then simple sharp and pointy fingernails before morphing into ivory hooks. He blinked and the hand is normal again. Curling the fingers into a fist, a small spike of ivory sprouted out in-between knuckles, its extra-length hidden underneath the skin of the backhand as it bulged from the surface before the stake retracted and disappeared into the fleshy depths. The final trick, the knuckles and the second joint of the fingers bulged into bony spikes, promising more than a bruise when it strikes somebody. Just like Mother's.

He took a deep breath and let it out through his nose. A satisfying result. Witchbeast physiology truly have exploitable quirks, the Alpha more so for making these many weapons easy to compress within a small vessel. Include the fact that they are inherently evil and contribute nothing to the environment, he has all the leeway to do whatever he wished with them as he pleased without any sort of consequence. More research and discovery opportunities await him, knowledge for the Order of the Serpent.

Just to be sure: as the hand reverted to its original form, he gave a witchbeast femur to its grasp and watched as the brown fingers bulged, the ivory it held cracking, creaking, shattering—

Snap!

—the femur is bent in half by nothing but its pure grip strength, and it took only two seconds too.

Perfect. He nodded. If he ever plans to make adjustments, the malleability of flesh will make it all simple. 4 hours of meticulous work well-rewarded.

A snap of his left fingers and the Life in the hand is sapped away, sending it into stasis thanks to his blood running through its veins.

Standing up and turning away from the rising sun, he jumped off the body pile and landed on a blackened patch of dry blood before heading off to the edge of the clearing, the brown hand clutched close to his chest. Several seconds later, every dead body in the clearing rose up to their feet in rickety movements, still witchbeast bodies mobile once more as they followed after him, leaving behind their loose entrails and dismembered limbs along the way. All that's left of the clearing are scattered dog parts and a giant smudge of black.

The Necromagus had different thoughts instead of the risen dead behind him as he treaded through the forest: Hungry. Despite his feast yesterday, it still wasn't enough. At this point, he might as well eat a woodland creature raw, bland but still nutritious at the right areas. The release of the Shade deprived him of so much. He's only thankful that it didn't affect his vast mana pool.

He flicked his hand towards a tree trunk, a fang of bone ejecting from his palm and a squirrel that tried to climb up a tree is impaled in the head.

Bite-sized….well, it'll do.

Plucking the dead creature off the tree along his stride, letting its pinned head get torn off in the process, he began skinning it with his skeletal hand.

"Brother."

And the Idiot who initiated the Shade's fucking release presents himself as soon as he was at a certain distance. He hasn't even eaten yet. Despite his unfortunate turn of events, he continued walking and skinning the critter, pointedly ignoring the creature of conjoined flesh as he walked past it.

"Just to let you know, the Little One is now vulnerable."

The small pelt of the squirrel now removed, he took a bite on the side of its belly, blood spurting out of the opening made by his pointy teeth.

"I also prepared the tub as well."

He froze mid-chew, still walking but waiting to see if he's still not done talking.

"Don't worry. I didn't use any of the potions. I made a new batch using the instruments you left behind."

Good. He returned to chewing before swallowing it, taking a moment to savor the aftertaste of blood running all over his mouth before he gnawed out the guts.

"I also had the skeletons gather up water for her bath. We don't have any towels with us, however, so I would suggest you give them the fire specialty. I washed her clothing as well, but I could do nothing for the shreds and rips it has."

Rolling his tongue inside his mouth to separate the bones from the flesh, he swallowed the latter before spitting out the former. He took the last final bite, ripping off the left leg before the bloody chunk is thrown over his shoulder and into the open maw of an undead witchbeast. The sound of bones snapping erupted from his and the dog's mouth. Still hungry.

"I would go and hunt for the coming feast but the skeletons you provided aren't suitable for such a task. I need a more…efficient design."

He snapped his skeletal fingers and one of the witchbeasts behind him exploded after a few seconds of its body bloating, its skeleton jumping out of the burst of flesh and blood before morphing into a skeletal prowler, the lethal weapons in its bloody jaws, claws and stilted feet ready to be used.

"Lastly, I found Mama."

This time, he did turn to properly face Viandegroc, eye to eye with a humanoid Flesh Golem, an abomination of 15 witchbeast bodies merged together, coated with nothing but sinews and muscle. A blood-colored monstrosity. Eye sockets full of white, no pupils filling the empty space. A set of canine teeth adorning the mouth, and behind the set of teeth was his lips and a functional tongue inside. A slightly long neck containing vocal chords that led to small shoulders, which led to thin, elongated arms that reached the ankles and ended in long red fingers. His torso could barely pass off as anything close to human, a deformed trunk of witchbeast flesh clumped together, something to keep hands, legs and the head attached instead of something to contain the internal organs. His legs are the only parts that were proportionately human but it ended into webbed three-toed feet.

The extra detail that made him distinct from being a cheap attempt to emulate humanity were the miniature extra arms placed beneath the first set, exposed finger bones holding a certain black bone dagger close to the chest.

A vessel of flesh and an anchor for the soul. The bone dagger is made from Viandegroc's skull and spine after all. A structure that was not unlike Mother but simpler. Bones are far more formidable.

"I found her deep in the mountains southwest of here." His set of teeth moved up and down as the lips behind them shifted to form words fluently and with clarity. "A very verdant field, overlooked by what seemed to be a cenotaph atop a hill made out of a large magic stone. The Spirits there have interesting stories to tell, so she was there listening to everything. It is quite a distance from here, just to tell you."

He sighed through his nose, now looking away and onwards to the cave Mother once dug out 4 days ago, having collapsed and flooded in from the catastrophes but now reconstructed as it served as a nice hideout for his times of needed privacy. It's located deep in the witchbeast forest too, so that makes any random straggler unlikely to come anywhere close to it.

It took nearly a whole hour of walking before finally finding the opening into the earth, located just next to an uprooted tree. Instead of a straight-drop, there is a slope that led downwards to the interior for the convenience of any new minions he might create within, same goes for the 'welcomed' sort of folk.

Entering the murky darkness alongside Viandegroc and the reanimated dogs, away from the shine of the morning sun, his night-vision now put into play, he traversed the recreated cavern, eyeing the ribs that curved against the walls and the giant spinal column the lined the middle of the ceiling. The soil around them once wet from the super typhoon are now dry with the help of the Fire Golem's mere presence, and there are new passageways thanks to a small squad of bruisers carving them for him, serving unique purposes each.

With a point of his finger, the pack of undead witchbeasts took off ahead, making no sound except for their footfalls that created a slight tremble on the ground before they disappeared from sight, stuffing themselves in a certain section of the cave that served as a meat storage. It will create a foul smell overtime, but it will be a nostalgic smell. Just like home, he will certainly say. Mortal diseases aren't an impediment to his people too.

Passing through several other passageways later, they reached a smaller corridor that could fit a person like a door compared to everything else which seemed to be wide enough to accommodate a simple Rock Golem but twice the size. And within contained barrels of ivory filled with water placed against the wall, a table made from expanded bone with experimental instruments atop it, recently used, and in the center of the room was a perfectly-shaped block of earth that rose from the soil with his rarely-used earth spells. Atop that block was a small white body of a little girl, sprawled out, grimy, and naked, a glowing bone wand lying atop her broken chest. Mother indeed left her mark on the little one; bruised, lacerated, deformed, and missing a right hand. It's been more than 12 hours since her passing but the flesh still refused to rot or even suffer necrosis.

"Shall we clean her up first? Or should we proceed to her revivification?"

He turned to the oval bone tub in the corner, filled nearly to the brim with swirling red liquid and giving off a bitter scent of iron and something indescribable. He pursed his lips. He truly doesn't know why he's going through with this. He didn't even plan to do this before. Why did he suddenly grow the heart to be doing so now? She's even the one who caused the entire witchbeast bullshit in the first place.

He sighed, clicking his tongue. He'd be damned if this is the suppressed anger influencing his decisions, giving himself an opportunity to strike back at the one responsible for ripping his throat out.

He picked up the wand from the girl's chest, feeling the tinges of grief from it.

"Revivification, then." Long red fingers wormed underneath the small broken body before being lifted up from the earthen block as if she weighed like a stick. With care, she is carried over to the tub and gently lowered down into the red liquid, her little frame fitting inside the oval container quite well as she floated.

The red waters began to bubble at the presence of wounds on the girl's body, reacting like a dense swarm of piranhas seeing a bloody hunk of meat and diving in for the feeding frenzy. In this case, it's the opposite effect. The liquid searched out her numerous injuries and its potent mixture ravaged them to health. Sizzling began to hiss from the tub and the subtle sounds of bones reconnecting with a snap emanated from within, an occurrence he assisted with his own magic by merely angling them in the correct position and letting the healing liquid do the rest.

While it did, Emurdol held her stumpy right wrist away from the healing liquid. With the brown hand in his skeletal grip, the wand held in-between his teeth, he carefully attached the two cross-sections together as symmetrically as possible, both severed halves of nerves, veins, bones, tissue and other parts sticking together. With a glow of trepidation in his eyes, he slowly lowered the arm down to the red water and it sizzled wildly, giving off steam as the gaps closed and eventually accomplished full reconnection. Placing his bony fingertips on the girl's chest, he slowly pushed the little one down and submerged her to the bottom, disappearing in the veil of red.

Pulling his skeletal hand out, dripping red on the earthy floors, he passed the wand to Viandegroc's red fingers before walking out of the circular cavern, off to go hunting for something big to eat like doe, the prowler that waited outside following after him silently.

Turning his eyes away from the place Emurdol disappeared to, he faced the tub and knelt before it, holding the edge with one hand, his bent elbow reaching very far behind him while the other hand hovered the wand above the still-bubbling healing liquid, swirling it round and round, barely an inch of space away from the rippling surface of red.

"Now then…." The sockets of the skull of the wand glowed bright, illuminating the cavern in ghostly green, shining the malignant grin his malformed face could ever manage, "Let us begin your corporal discipline, my sweet little Niece."

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

Seconds felt like hours. Months felt like days. Years felt like weeks. Minutes felt like a moment. Eternity felt so short. Short felt like forever.

Darkness. Nothing but darkness. Imperceptible. Invisible. Murky. Devouring. Immaterial. Intangible. Nothing.

Nothing for her to see. Nothing for her to smell. Nothing for her to hear. Nothing for her to taste. Nothing for her to touch. No one to meet. No one to talk to. No one to listen to. No one to hold. No one to hold her. No one there. Nothing there. Nothing. No one. Nothing. No one. Nothing. No one. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. No one. No one. Nothing. No one. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothi—

"Oh…"

Voice. Sound. Audio. Acoustic. Auditory. Aural. Voice. Vocal chords. Inflexion. Thoughts. Words. Language. Humming. Speaking. Voicing. Exerting. Understood. Perceived. Received. Sensed. Experienced. Aware of. Suffered. Existed.

Existence. Existence. Existence. Existence. Existence. Existence. Existence. Existence. Existence. Existence. Existence. Existence. Existence. Existence. Existence. Existence. Existence. Existence. Existence. Existence. Existence. Existence. Existence. Existence. Existence. Existence. Existence. Existence. Existence. Existence. Existence. Existence. Existence. Existence. Existence. Existence.

EXISTENCE.

Meili snapped her head up from the arms that rested her knees, tearful eyes finding EXISTENCEin front of her and she literally scrambled to her feet as she sprinted towards SOMEONE, hands stretched out greedily and slammed her entire being into SOMEONE'S SOMETHING. She meant to hurt herself doing this. She meant to get punished for this. She meant to feel doing this. Her entire body is bare of clothing her white skin exposed to make every fiber of flesh she had in her body FEEL this SOMETHING. She bit on SOMEONE'S SOMETHING, tasting SOMETHING in her mouth. She clutched SOMETHING in a death grip, feeling the sensation of SOMETHING. She heard SOMETHING whenever she rubbed herself violently into SOMEONE'S SOMETHING. She was hurt by SOMETHING.

She felt SOMETHING hold on to her shoulders and gently pushed her—

She never knew true terror.

"NO! NO! DON'T PUSH ME AWAY! PLEASE! I WON'T LET GO! I DON'T WANNA! DON'T MAKE ME LET GO! MAKE ME STAY!" She had never screamed so much like this, not even when her hand was crushed did she try to break her voice like this. Her wretched self brought her down, lower than even the most desperate beggar. The entirety of her self-worth and pride is gone. "I HATE IT HERE! GET ME AWAY FROM HERE! IT'S DARK AND LONELY AN-AND SCARY AND QUIET! I-I'LL DO ANYTHING! I'LL BE YOUR SLAVE! I'LL EVEN LET YOU DO ANYTHING YOU WANT TO ME! EVERYTHING! ANYTHING YOU WANT! I'LL DO IT! JUST DON'T LEAVE ME BY MYSELF!"

Poke her. Touch her. Hold her. Embrace her. Cuddle her. Kiss her. Bite her. Lick her. Grip her. Fondle her. Violate her. Humiliate her. Beat her. Torture her. Tear her. Rip her. Mutilate her. Yell at her. Speak to her. Whisper to her. Be with her. EXIST to her. She'll accept it all, anything—everything, so long as she's not left alone by herself ever again.

"You pitiful woman of beauty and possibility." SOMEONE'S voice reached her ears, soft and silky smooth. It was the most beautiful sound. "This lowly servant deserves not the sight of your tears, so please weep no more."

SOMEONE wrapped SOMEONE'S SOMETHING around her and lifted her up from the ground, embraced tightly close to SOMEONE'S SOMETHING, stroking the back of her head while her face is buried into SOMEONE'S SOMETHING, crying a whole lake into the SOMETHING, soaking it well. She relished every single sensation SOMEONE gave her. There was comfort, security, warmth, consolation, care, pity and company. Company she desperately hungered for.

The violation of time played itself out once more, and she was spoiled a minute of attention that felt like an eternity. An eternity that felt like a moment, or maybe a whole hour. She will never know how long she kept herself in SOMEONE'S SOMETHING but she exploited the rules of time in the Court to savor EXISTENCE with impunity.

Eternity after eternity, perception and sanity returned to Meili over time. And things became much clearer.

SOMETHING became robes of dark brown.

SOMETHING became wide sleeves.

SOMETHING became leather gloves.

SOMETHING became leather cloth.

SOMETHING became arms.

SOMETHING became chest.

SOMETHING became fabric.

SOMETHING became rustling of cloth.

SOMETHING became an ambiguous form.

SOMEOME became the man.

SOMEONE became He.

SOMEONE became His.

She felt him lower her down, her bare feet touching nothing before she found herself kneeling in the space in-between the man's bent legs, resting his rear on his calves while maintaining his tight embrace around her. Rubbing her face on the leather cloth on his chest to wipe her snot and tears, she slowly looked up and looked at his face. His robes came with a tight hood that hid the back of his head, ears and scalp, which a wide-brimmed hat rested on, and his face was nowhere to be seen. In its place, however, was a mask of unknown material with round mirroring lenses for eyes, reflecting her gaze of wonder. A black crow mask, which the long and curving beak nearly touched her nose when he turned to face her.

EXISTENCE became the Lowly Servant who EXISTED.

"You're beautiful…." Meili breathed, meaning every word. Her heart burned with love and desire as she looked at him, drinking his every detail with her olive-green eyes. His bizarrely unwrinkled wear. His scentless aura. His emotionless gaze. His statue-like poise. He was intoxicating. "Are you an Angel?"

"No. I am but a humble servant, as significant as an arm. What I do is not worthy of your admiration." Her cheeks flushed just by listening to him. So silky smooth and musical to the ears.

Her hand reached for his mask, white digits caressing the dark material. Smooth to the touch and solid against her fingers like glass, especially his beak. She wants to see his face. What beautiful features he must have hidden behind it. She grabbed the curving protrusion and pulled.

"Please." Her wrist was gently grabbed and moved away by a leather glove. The sensation set her heart on fire. "This lowly servant does not deserve to be gazed upon by your eyes."

"But I want to see…." She said in a breathy tone, still persisting despite her hand being held back from doing what she wanted.

"Let it not be about me." His other hand took her other wrist and put both her palms together as if to pray before his gloved hand gripped them in a lock. "It is about you. You need help and I can give it."

Her elation could not be described for his kindness. He's going to save her from this black hell. No more emptiness. No more loneliness. No more Nothing. "You're going to take me away from this place?"

"By the decree of my Master, I shall." Holding on to her clasped hands with both his own, he pulled her up to her feet while he bended forward to make sure she isn't pulled up from the 'ground', being taller than anyone she ever met. As he did, the Court finally gave way to EXISTENCE in the form of a wave that expanded from him and overwrote everything.

It was Heaven itself.

Cold wind.

Grassy ground.

The song of night creatures.

The light of the crescent moon.

Rustling trees.

The smell of nature.

Whistling in the air.

EXISTENCE was everywhere.

Meili was in ecstasy for her return to the evening forest. She chuckled, she cried, she quivered, she skipped in place—the only thing stopping her from running all over the place, laughing and screaming for the entire world to hear was the grip the Lowly Servant still had on her.

"I consider everywhere to be my home and I sleep wherever I can, so it will be easy for me to reach the hands of those who need my help, but I have a particular fancy for places of green." His right arm went around her till it rested behind her rear and she was lifted up to his chest, practically making her feel as tall as a small tree. He kept his grip on her hands still. "It is peaceful and healthy. No one suffers here." As he began to walk while carrying her, renewing the sensation of mobility in Meili, he was uncannily steady. She wasn't rocking from his footsteps, in fact it didn't look like he was walking at all. He seemed to be floating across the ground.

"Yeah…." After staring at the ground pass underneath her for likely half an hour, she raised her gaze up and fixed it on the environment, some other times she turned it to him, noting his other details. His head seemed to move along with his body, as if his neck is incapable of rotating. But when focused, it remain fixed on the object of interest with snake-like intensity until he passed it by, like the seemingly-glowing blue flower that kept showing up every hour.

…..

….….….

….….….….….

Meili began to frown for the first time, the sensation of confusion and anxiety filling her heart once more. The moon barely moved from the sky. The winds never stopped blowing. The temperature of the air didn't change. She could even recognize the songs of animals and the rustling of the trees repeating itself. A pattern of the trees was visible, the grass had a rhythm and even his movements are consistent.

"Um, are we…..looping?"

The sheer fluidity of his movements made it impossible for her to realize that he stopped walking either a second ago or long ago. And now, his beaked face fixed a look on her. This time, she was seeing him like a human for the first time. He created a ghastly image with his mask. His emotionless gaze unnerved her. And the way he held her made her feel imprisoned.

"You realized? Good." He set her down to stand on her own, and she failed to do so, not because her legs were weak but because the sensation of standing again overwhelmed her as well as the feeling of the grass on her bare feet. "To help you, your sanity must return, and I did so by reintegrating you to Reality."

"Wha…?"

"The doubt and anxiety you feel is a sign that it is successful." He continued, still as a statue and his tone of voice consistent in its silky smooth octave and empty of emotions, just like the Host. "That means I can proceed."

She blinked as she looked up to his tall form, not knowing what he's going on about, "Proceed to what?"

With movements as elegant as swirling steam of a hot beverage, he crouched before her and wrapped both his leather glove hands around her little neck, the grip gentle and not constricting. She was confused rather than apprehensive for this and did not resist. She can see her own face in the lenses of his mask, his beak pointed down but his gaze clearly on her underneath the brim of his heat. "Your Rehabilitation."

Then he pushed her down on the ground, strangling her. Oxygen is cut off, her throat starting to tighten destructively, panic and fear came back to her in a vengeance, and it drove her limbs to action. She kicked against his chest, she clawed at his sleeves, she squirmed—every form of resistance was useless. "Do not resist. I am helping you." He hid stone-like strength underneath his robes, and sociopathic cruelty in his mask. His voice never changed, even when she could feel her neck bone beginning to crack inside his hold.

Tears escaped out of her eyes. Her vision was starting to darken and her flailing limbs were losing their strength alongside her consciousness, and the Lowly Servant simply stared at her with his mirroring gaze, giving her one last look of her crying, gritting, dying, helpless and pathetic self as he stared. Stared. Stared. Stared. Stared. Stared. Stared. Stared. Stared. Stared. Stared. Stared. Stared. Stared. STARED. STARED. STARED. STARED.

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

His outer teeth and inner teeth illuminated by the glow of the wand, his delighted grin stretched even wider when he heard a muffled thud from the red depth of the tub, the ruckus causing the red waters to ripple and wave. The green glow flashed like a burst of light, setting light into the small cavern for the briefest instant before returning to a dim glow, the healing liquid steadying after a whole minute.

"Do not return just yet, Sweet Niece."

He swirled the wand over the surface once more, purposely complicating the resurgence of Meili's Soul. Brother expects change, and the Court will do their very best to make that happen. Viandegroc had always been the one who carried the scourge, now he's giving the others a chance to use it. If he is honest with himself, simple viewings of consequences are starting to get simple. Not really boring as it is still satisfying to do but too simple. Something raw needs to be added now, and he's very certain that their design will break newcomers harder as they had continually insisted before.

He can only wonder how the Little One will come out as in the Aftermath.

"Your Homecoming Party is still not ready."

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

From one small nick. Just from a single nick of an insignificant little knife made of black bone, he was brought down to the ground with poison.

He thought he had made himself perfect, perfect to the point that he could help anyone, unimpeded by human weakness that would obstruct him from his everlasting mission to save those in need of a hand that shall pull them up from the pit of suffering. He prolonged his age. He converted his sustenance to nuts and vapors. He even made his entire body strong, incapable of breaking and wilting to the elements and violence. It could even regenerate itself as if he had drank a high-potency elixir of healing the instant he has a wound.

And he fell to poison. He fell without grace, ceremony and dignity. His wounds refused to close and his body felt like it was about to crumble from even the slightest movements. His robes were torn to shreds and he threw away his mask before he drowned himself in it due to bleeding from all the openings on his head.

His death was not quick and immediate. His once-invincible body has now been rendered mortal thanks to the poison but it didn't kill him immediately, and his broken defenses made it possible for his suffering to last forever until the passing of a whole month where he was incapable of regenerating himself after what has been done to him: he was thrown to the army of the dead to be subjected to the manners of cruelty they could manage. They kept trying to break his body apart, thrown left and right, yanked around from minion to minion, riddling on his impervious but mortal body with their every being. And when he caved in, it turned into an orgy of brutal revelry. They first took away his eyes. Then his teeth. Then his tongue. Ears and scalp afterwards. And when they regenerated, they took away the replacements as well. When they wanted his arms, they took them. When they wanted his legs, they took them too. When they opened him up and spilled his guts, they scattered it amongst themselves. When it closed and his organs regrew themselves, they did it again. They fought over their claims, scraps included. And when they failed to overpower their competition, they turned their lifeless eyes to him, taking whatever piece they could grab from him. They scrambled over each other just to merely scratch him, and they were tireless.

He was made their toy. Every day. Every hour. Every minute. Every second he spent alive, he suffered. They never stopped. They never stopped. They never stopped. They never stopped. They never stopped. They never stopped. They never stopped. They never stopped. They never stopped. They never stopped.

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

Terror. Unending terror clouded her mind when she recovered herself and found herself alone in the false forest. The Lowly Servant wasn't there anymore with his hands around her neck but that didn't reassure her in the least. To be in his shoes when he met his horrible fate, to experience every lick of pain and shock he went through under the hands of zombies, skeletons, golems, reanimated, Wild Souls, and other monstrosities, it was a suffering she could not fathom for anyone to take, even for a whole day.

So she ran. Ran and ran and ran and ran and ran—she had no direction to head to. She simply ran. She doesn't even know what she is running from. No matter where she went, the forest kept coming back. The same tree. The same expanse of grass. The same sky. The same flower. The same everything. Yet she ran anyway. Even when her body began breaking apart from overexertion, reduced to crawling on the soil to nowhere, she still tried to escape from something that already happened to someone else.

Then a green fog enshrouded her.

….….

….….….

….….….….

Why did she run? What was she running for, anyway? That was just a flash of the Lowly Servant's death. Cruel and excruciating, and very traumatic indeed but it's not like it happened to her. His screams are still ringing in her head and the faces of those monsters are filling the darkness of her vision whenever she closes her eyes but it'll pass.

How did she end up on a large bed with fur coverings in the first place? Wasn't she running around the forest just a minute ago? Looking around her, there doesn't seem to be anything to see except a dense cloud of green that's everywhere. It smelt pungent but strangely calming…..

"Welcome to my chambers, Sweetheart…."

A voice glazed with honey tickled her eardrums and desire burned in her heart. A second later, a shadow loomed over her form, indicating the presence of a bedmate she didn't know was there. An impossibly soft hand caressed her shoulder blade, stroking it up and down, slowly reaching down to the back of her waist and even further, and Meili's breathing became heavy instantaneously, shuddering from it. It felt as if her nerves had become a dozen times more sensitive, and every touch made her skin crawl with pleasure. Her cheeks began to flush even brighter, her eyes glazing over from the hypersensitive reception of her flesh, and she strangely began desiring for contact.

As if the person molesting her had read her mind, the hand held her under the arm and flipped her small body over gently, the movement alone making her moan sensually, allowing her to look up at who hovered over her and she was left breathless. She was the most beautiful woman she ever met, overpowering even Elsa. High cheek bones with full lips, thin eyebrows above inviting dark-blue eyes. Heart-shaped, a flawless structure and skin unmarred. She had long fiery red hair, redder than it should be possible even by human standards, and they floated above her as if she was underwater.

Before Meili could look over the rest of her, that impossibly soft hand held her cheek and her breath hitched, her heart throbbing strangely. "For a little one, you are beautiful….you will make hearts burn when you come of age…." Listening to the gorgeous woman's voice felt like her life depended on it, so she did, drinking every word she heard as if it were the only thing that kept her going since she was born. "What is your name?" She asked in a purr, staring deeply into her eyes, noses touching and their lips barely an inch apart.

Her lips curled, fighting the urge to kiss the woman with all the little amount of self-control she had left. "Me-Meili…"

"Meeeeiiilliiiii…" The woman drawled out her name, testing her name as delicately as possible. Then Meili felt a second hand of immense softness slide underneath her waist, lifting her up from the bed and bringing her close to her chest, her massive chest. They were bigger than Elsa's or even her own head. "….I am….Sally…..the Supreme Corruption of Gluttony…."

Bulging veins. Wide eyes. Black scleras. Slit-pupils. Split cheeks. Needle-like teeth. 3 tongues. Living hair.

Meili's eyes bulged at what she had just seen, wondering if it had been an illusion. For the briefest of moments, she had watched Sally's face being replaced by a horrifying demon of pure hunger and want, staring at her as if she was prey that got caught in the honey trap and was seconds away from heading into the bite.

"You look rattled, Sweetheart…" Half-lidded eyes stared at her greedily and wantonly, devoid of any concern despite her words. "….let me fix that…." A green cloud blew out of her breath as she neared her lips towards her cheek, giving it a chaste kiss before giving another to the crook between her neck and shoulder. Then she began sucking it.

Meili's gasp caused her to inhale the green cloud around her face and she immediately felt that something was wrong.

She couldn't move. Her limbs were limp. Her tongue was loose. Her neck couldn't hold up her head. Her legs aren't even functioning anymore. She was a puppet without strings in Sally's grasp, sagging like a boned fish, and she was left completely to the woman's mercy.

There was something wet lapping against her flesh inside Sally's mouth….three of them. They were inside her.

She wants to run. She has to run. She must run. Why isn't she running away? Why isn't she moving? Why is she only shaking? Why is she enjoying it?

Her eyes were the only ones capable of movement, and they leaked tears out of what's happening. There was something inside of her and she doesn't know what it is. Inside her skin. Inside her stomach. Inside her eyes. Inside her hands. Inside her feet. Inside her arms. Inside her legs. Inside her head. Inside her mouth. Inside her veins. Inside her lungs. Inside her tongue. Inside her teeth. Inside her bones. Inside her back. Inside her waist. Inside her womanhood. Inside her brain. Inside her–It was violating her.

The woman had begun squeezing her, relaxing her grip, then tightening it again with a grip that could bruise her, rubbing Meili's small body against her own with every lick of fiber she had, her slender arms around her waist and back gripping her with strength like iron bars, even her hair had started wrapping around her extremities, waist and neck. Smooth as the finest silk, as sharp as garrote wires, the thinnest bundles of strands easily cutting open her flesh. Sally's breathing started getting heavy, a lusty moan escaping her in certain intervals, and the green cloud kept exhuming out of her mouth, enshrouding the two of them in a blinding haze more and more.

Crushed. She was getting crushed. Her spine cracked. Her ribs cracked. Her limbs were bending backwards. They cracked. They cracked. Cracking. Cracking. Snapping. Snapping. Snapping. Snapping. Snapping. Snapping. Snapping. Snapping. Snapping. Tightening. Tightening. Tightening. Tightening. Tightening. Tightening. Tightening. Tightening. Tightening. Violating. Violating. Violating. Violating. Violating. Violating. Violating. Violating. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying. Dying.

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

Her vapors were all outdone, thanks to the multiple holes excavated by a wyrmm that was killed at the wrong place and the wrong time before the man even knew where she hid. Strong winds were blowing outside, and while the ventilation never affected the Smoky Bull, it gave the Pale One the most unlikely advantage she never thought was possible. Her lair has distorted levels of oxygen and the new openings made it worse. The explosives he carried ended up being too destructive, causing a massive cave-in, killing more than a few of the captives she had with her and crushing one of her legs. The headless black skeleton that was with him severed her arms while she was screaming in pain, separating her from her pipe.

He was right on her afterwards, pinning her down with a single hand and his multiple-legged lower half. His eyes were bloodshot and cried red. His mouth bled endlessly. His right arm was mangled horribly. There's even a large chunk of meat missing from his side. No doubt she had decimated his lungs when he breathed in the vapors accidently and gave her the opportunity to do whatever she wants with it. Despite all these grievous wounds, he was still moving as if he only had scratches.

And he vomited on her. Disgusting green bile poured down on her face, and it burned. It went in her eyes, mouth, and nose, and it burned her. Her eyes dissolved first. Then her tongue. And then multiple sinuses have melted. Then bitter liquid was forced down her throat, restoring her damaged parts. Right after she was stabbed in the stomach, a horrible sensation of true pain engulfed her from head to toe. Poison. This time, she could not be aroused by it. Something was eating her from the inside. There was something inside her and it wasn't one of her vapors. Instead of caressing her insides, it was trying to break her apart. And when her eyes seemed to have restored, seeing only blurs and no clear image, he vomited on her again, burning her face once more.

Her screams could be heard everywhere in her underground lair. She struggled, resisted, but the poison ate away her strength to the point where she could only writhe. Without eyes and knowing only pain ad infinitum, she could only beg for a quick death that will never be given to her as she's force fed an elixir of healing, vomited on, feeling her insides get eaten from the inside and repeat.

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

The Little One's getting livelier, Viandegroc thought. The red waters kept rippling and waving, no longer having a moment to repose due to the body beneath continually convulsing every few dozen seconds.

As someone outside the Court, he could only wonder who was the second person to carry the scourge. He knew William would be the first to do it, as he is all too eager to help at the drop of a hat. In this case, it is 'help break the girl'. Getting eaten by your own family members or getting ravaged by poisons and an undead rat while getting vomited on, Viandegroc wouldn't know which is worse enough to outmatch the cruelty of the death the Supreme Corruption of Pride had. Unlike all of them, Viandegroc was the first to die by Emurdol's hand and his death is the most peaceful compared to all of them, bleeding to death from a stab to the neck. He wouldn't be able to sympathize their pain.

"One could only wonder why the Mighty King would not want to show his death to you, Sweet Niece." He droned sarcastically, feeling the third and final person taking their turn. The red waters might swish wildly due to the mental trauma it caused to the person before death.

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

His mother ate his hand, biting off several fingers before eating it whole. His elder sister had opened his stomach and pulled out his intestines. His little sister tried to take a larger portion of it from her, contradicting her usually sharing self. His father ripped off his entire arm from the shoulder, a testament of his great strength before chowing down on the meatier part of it. His little brother ripped out his kidneys, both of them. His big brother, the one he admired the most among all his siblings, ripped off his legs, taking more than half an hour to accomplish it.

This cannot be. They were his family. They were still conscious, they should have their freewill back to them since he no longer has a grip on them, and yet they do this? Why aren't they defending him? Why aren't they trying to save him? Hasn't he spared them from being used as tools and instead be treated like actual family!? Didn't they spend their time together like actual families? Didn't they love each other!? He loved them, didn't he!? Why aren't they loving him back when they have the chance to express it for real!? They should be grateful! He may have been a bastard but he never punished them for throwing him out of the household! He was a loving son! He only wanted to be part of the family! That's why he's done those things! Because they wouldn't let him despite how he begged in front of their gates! What more could he ask for!? They should have loved him! If they had only loved him despite being the son of a maidservant and a nobleman, they wouldn't have ended up like the way they are! It's their fault! It's all their fault!

The Mastermind of this falling-out stood at the side, wearing a dispassionate countenance underneath his hood and cloak, crossing his bone-covered arms in front of his bone-cuirass as he watched the feasting darkly but satisfyingly. His minion, a jet-black skeleton that was taller than him and loosely holding a battle axe at its side, carried the same emotionless gaze in its sockets that contained blue pinpoints.

No. It wasn't their fault. It was them! It was actually them! They made his family turn against him! They turned his subjects against him! It was all because of them! They took everything! And why!? Why did they do such a thing!? What has he done to them!? He barely even knew they both existed, so why!? WHY!? WHY!? WHY!? WHY!? WHY!? WHY!?

Even as his broken throat barely managed to express those questions, there apparently was no use speaking to them. When the last of his life has been eaten away, they never said anything. They just watched. Watching until his entire lower half below the torso was eaten away.

And when his consciousness finally left him, the last thing he saw was an axe falling down on his neck and the world suddenly spinning around.

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

He expected right. The recoil was worse than before. The red waters actually sloshed wildly, splashing his misshapen form, a louder thud from the depths and he even saw the Little One's head breach out before sinking back down. Being undead, the healing liquid simply dripped down to the soil instead of fixing up his anomalous form.

"Looks like it's time, Sweet Niece."

The glow of the wand now equaling the intensity of 40 bonfires, creating the green illumination that could brighten the entire cavern from this passageway to the whole network, he began formulating the final sequence. No longer waiting for the waters to settle, he simply swirled the wand above the surface once more, but quickly this time.

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothin—

"The World belongs to Me!"

This time, Meili had nothing to offer for that bombastic voice except acknowledgement. She didn't turn to face the source. She knows what's coming. Another episode of horrible deaths for her to experience, every single one brought to them by a single consistent person who had white-hair, pale skin, bone armor, and an apathetic expression, with one instance of the person having horns and a skull face as well as another without a black skeleton at his side and the other instance where he was talking.

"And the World defies me Not!"

This was Hell, she finally realized. The place she deserved for the things she's done in the Living World, killing people, young or old, by the will of the contract signed by someone who wants someone dead. Even if she is friendly with her targets, considering them worthy of remembrance despite their passing, that isn't sufficient payment for any pardon.

"Oh pathetic and broken whelp, be Proud and Glad!"

Considering the number of people who are dead and the number of those who are living as well as the number of those they killed, she's going to be familiar with a lot of people and a lot of deaths from here on out.

"Rejoice, for the Mighty King will formalize the end of your convalescence and shall send you off to the Living!"

A powerful stomp on granite stone occurred right in front of her, a giant boot sending a blasting shockwave at her face, blowing her unbraided blue hair back. She did not flinch nor did her mien shift in any way. She's only waiting for the inevitable. She still had the manners to know who the new acquaintance is, however. She looked up, then further and further up, realizing the immense size of the loud giant man in front of her.

Underneath the simple white tunic that would have been considered too big for any ordinary man left the impression of gigantic muscles. The rolled-up sleeves exposed massive arms of brown calloused flesh that were like tree trunks with the left holding a stylized and ornate axe as if it were a simple stick. His face was the embodiment of authority and power compared to everything else. His expression was fierce, both chiseled and noble at the same time that told stories of battles fought at the front lines and privileges earned from his power. His eyes contained a blazing orange, intense and authoritative, demanding no questions but immediate obedience. His mane was the most remarkable compared to everything else. He had scorching red hair, darker in comparison to Sally's but no less majestic. From the scalp to his chin, it surrounded his face in a rugged circle just like a lion, and it was all he needed to indicate who was the greatest in a room full of kings.

He raised up his axe above his head with both hands, and with a voice that shook her to the very core, he sent his farewells.

"This will be the last you DESERVED!"

The axe came down and buried itself to her head, through her torso and into the ground, causing a grand earthquake and destroying the very castle he had ruled from since his birth, the mortar unable to withstand the weight of its own structure and crumbling down to the earth. An emulation of the outcome between him and Emurdol when they finally met and fought each other in a glorious and destructive battle that could match a catastrophe.

When the demolition was over, he was the only one standing there, the girl sent off beforehand, having withstood every debris and blocks of stone that fell on him like an indestructible immortal, never flinching no matter how long he was being riddled down by his own fortress.

Releasing a pleased sigh that would have sounded like a growl, he slammed the head of his axe to the pieces of stone, crumbling them to dust and into the earth, sending his anticipations to the girl who was once there, "Be a Daughter worthy of the one who slew the Mighty King."

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

And this time, Meili suffered what was very likely a shot of Reality.

She was now in the shoes of those she had killed in her life, with or without Elsa's collaborations. She felt their helplessness, their despair and their pain. She experienced the pain of being ripped apart by witchbeasts, the feeling of having their guts spilling out of their abdomen, and the despair of losing those they cared about to fang and blade.

Not only the ones she killed but she also saw what her actions led to. Some had led to something good but more than most, she brought only suffering to the ones who are barely even involved with the target. Some fell to exploitation, some fell to control, and some fell to a fate even worse than death. All because someone who kept them safe from such fates was murdered by her. Even if she was only carrying out the demands of the contract, all this happened due to her hand. Her actions led to nothing but suffering. Suffering that will likely never end till the end of a lifetime.

She knows what suffering is like now, thanks to what happened to her before death and what happened afterwards, being shown the final moments of those who died by the hand of the person who was there by her side before passing on. And she had brought such a thing to others with pure impunity and nonchalance.

She had a short life. She only lived up to 13, and what has she spent that life on? Uselessness. The only thing she knew was killing people with witchbeasts. Was it fulfilling? Did it help anybody? Was it productive? Did she even know herself? She's barely her own person. She emulated Elsa and even the woman knew how to kill. From her hairstyle down to her outward demeanor of seduction. She clung to the woman like a lifeline, and she dared to call herself a living being in that side of life, having nothing unique to be her worthy of her own person and accomplishing nothing to be worthy of anyone's memory?

She might as well be another witchbeast just like the ones she had under her command.

She left nothing to the world, only a dead body unworthy of remembering, a cheap attempt of being somebody who was older than her, stronger than her, knowing more than her, and having lived a life according to her own wishes better than her. Even the former had encouraged such behavior on Meili, to live according to her own design and never pulled around by anyone except herself. She thought she was already living a life of her own, but apparently she was just a child who knew nothing, pretentiously acting like an adult when she did not even have the maturity to warrant the respect. She was a coward, a weakling, afraid to mold her person into someone worthy of its own respect and copycatted the person who gave her everything in order to achieve that.

How could she be so foolish? How could she live in such a way? Even those whose cruel death she experienced down to the very end had lived lives better than her, existing according to their own design.

"I'm…..sorry….."

At this moment, her regrets spilled out of her lips. She didn't know who she was saying this to. It could be to Elsa, it could to her victims, but in the end, that didn't matter.

She can no longer change what happened. That is something she can do only in the Living World, and she's too late. Her heart broke at her demise and no amount of tears could do justice to express it to the fullest extent.

She left the Living World as nothing but a wasted existence.

At this point, she knew what real Hell truly is. Left to the darkness and drawn into her own regrets, knowing she's can do nothing about it.

As the self-loathing consumed her, so did the darkness.

And as the darkness took her, leaving her afloat in the nothingness once again, she saw a Serpent-like Dragon made out of nothing but suns and stars staring at her.

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

With finality, the wand finally touched the surface of the red waters. Circles expanded from the contact point, and with a last flash of green light, the Soul is finally reintegrated to the vessel of Flesh.

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

The first struggle was a search for oxygen and she found it when she was suddenly pulled out of a watery surface and then dropped to soft ground. Coughing out liquid out of her lungs and throat, she began heaving the oxygen she needed, uncaring if the taste of it is similar to rotten flesh.

The second struggle was the recognition of her mind to the fact that there were sensations all over her body. It burns, it freezes, it tickles, and it hurts. She could breath. She could taste. She could hear. She could smell. She could speak. She could move. She could shake. She could blink. She could feel. She could move her eyes. She could move her head. She could move her mouth. She could move her tongue. She could move her fingers. She could move her hands. She could move her arms. She could move her toes. She could move her feet. She could move her legs.

The third struggle was the blinding light of yellow that erupted right in front of her, and she lamely moved her arms to cover her face, making sound on her throat that should have been a yelp but only came out as a wheeze.

"Well….isn't this a treat? The Revivification was a success. Brother will be most proud once he sees you."

It took several dozen seconds for the realization to kick in, and when it did, she felt recognition….

"If you wonder, I am the Host."

….and terror.

"But in truth, I should have been the Supreme Corruption of Lust." A glow of green began overpowering the glow of yellow, and she saw a pair of red three-toed and webbed feet from right beside her. "My name is Viandegroc, the Left Horn of the Dragon. And like you, I have also been brought back to life. But unlike you, I am incomplete. Dead in essence. However, it is not an excuse to not help my family in any way that I can."

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

After calming down from her initial terror and confusion, she finally managed to collect herself. If it weren't for the skeletal hand that was creating light in the small cavern with fire, she wouldn't have maintained her composure for too long. Even if the illumination is too weak, barely reaching as far as 2 meters, it's fine by her. She had enough of the darkness, especially after what she's been through because of that skeletal menace and the Nothingness.

It began with a set of exercises to test her body, restoring her range and motion, her dexterity and balance. Trying to stay upright while standing turned out to have become the most difficult feat she ever attempted in this side of Life, even worse than trying to stay upright while sitting.

It took a whole 3 hours before she was standing upright as she had used to. It left her sweaty and grimy once more, collapsing on the soil more than a hundred times and caking her naked body with mud. Strangely, she's not even exhausted or even achy despite her many falls as well as being fresh out of her death. Next after, he tested her voice, seeing if her vocal cords are stable. She could only release whispers or small squeaks, her throat feeling like it has not seen use for three whole months that it was only thanks to the sheer silence of the cave that she was even heard by him. He decided that she can improve it over time.

The Host, or the Corruption of Lust who have introduced himself as Viandegroc, had told her of her current situation, which brought her immense relief from her hidden mental distress. It began with the question regarding if she remembered her 'death'. If he was referring to the time when she died of hypothermia in the forest, she does. It followed by asking for her name as well as her origins. She held nothing back in telling him everything, finding no reason to be tightlipped about the Assassin Organization nor does she have any affiliation with them anymore. She failed her job, her punishment is death. She's better off deserting.

And eventually, he began telling her all about her condition. She was dead and brought back to life, thanks to the will of the person who bit her arm. Viandegroc claims not to know why the man did such a thing, saying that she can only find out if she asks the culprit himself. When the topic turned to her right hand, which had been dead and unfeeling but mobile since she had woken up as well as having a different coloration that clashed against the pale skin past her wrist, he told her that her original one had suffered necrosis and would not be healed back anymore. Instead, it was severed and replaced. He tells her that the new attachment has to adapt to her body first before its physical properties like the sense of touch, pain, weight, temperature and other things returns to it.

After that, she was finally given what she wanted most since waking up. A bath. She stank of bitter liquid, sweat and was caked in mud, she desperately needed to clean herself up and she gratefully accepted it as soon as he suggested it. When he gestured a stool for her to sit on in the center of the room, she took it wordlessly and the proceedings were immediate.

With the help of skeletons holding 5 giant jugs of water that they could easily lift and carry despite their spindly frames, cold but refreshing water is poured down over her seated form and she passively remained still as the constructs scrubbed her grimy body all over with what felt like moss and leaves instead of sponges while one washed her feet over a white basin. Their skeletal fingers hurt when they worked on removing the mud and oil on her loose wavy hair of blue.

When all 5 jugs were emptied, indulging herself in a small drink during the midst of it as well as relieving her urinary bladder, she was dried up unconventionally as there were no towels nearby. The skeletons generated small flames on their bony hands and carefully hovered the heating palms over her wet form. Once dried, including her hair, she was given the disguise she wore back at Earlham Village, still ripped and damaged from her days under torture and from the time of her death but it was better than nothing. Her sandals are intact, so that's a plus. She left her hair as it is. It's been a while since she had let it down, and she had decided to give up on emulating Elsa, after all.

Led by the hand of the creature of misshapen flesh that was Viandegroc, she's told that he will now take her outside, suggesting that she prepare her eyesight for the sun as it might hurt.

It was a long uphill walk that seemed to have lasted for more than half an hour, giving her a moment to revel at how far the cave system reached below the earth, passing by many other passageways that first smelled like the earth around them, but slowly became reeking of rotting flesh or burning meat. When she thought the smell of decay couldn't get any worse, there was suddenly freshness in the air from ahead in the form of a rising slope towards the ceiling where a wide opening showing the light of the outside world is found.

"Before you go, I must ask."

Meili turned to face him, wondering what is it he wants to know.

He neared his red monstrous face full of external teeth towards her. She did not try to lean back. "Why did you not fear? I would understand if not the skeletons but why are you not afraid of me? Even when you were in that section alone with me, my entire body visible for you despite the lack of great illumination, you never expressed the slightest hint of fear." He spread his elongated arms to both sides, emphasizing the deformed frame of his person consisting of multiple witchbeast bodies that could send the weak-hearted running from his presence. It would not be surprising if he is found in the nightmares of children. "You cannot possibly have seen anything like me, so why?"

Her response was quick to arrive in her mind, so she replied to him with her usual tone and diction, low and subdued, but the quality of cold stone coated her words, surprising even herself.

"Because I have seen and been through things scarier than yoooouuuu…."

The isolation in the Nothingness. The horrible deaths of horrible people with twisted mindsets. The despair of regret with the thought of never being able to change it forever. The long look of every suffering her victims and those connected to them have been through—nothing in the Living World could compare to them. Torture her. Rape her. Beat her. Mutilate her. Do whatever you wished with her. It would never make her flinch. She's been through worse now, worse than anyone could go through in a single lifetime, and absolutely nobody can argue with her on that.

Viandegroc drew his face back, crossing his long arms over his misshapen chest and the smaller pair of arms holding that strange black knife close to himself, holding a calculating look in his monstrous face, as much as his white eyes could express, "Hmm….interesting." Without any explanation to what he said, he turned around and melted back into the darkness.

She thought nothing of it and ran to the opening of the cave, holding her tiny arm over her eyes to shield herself from the blinding light of day. And when she finally was level with the world above, pure euphoria enraptured her entire consciousness.

The smell of grass and fresh air. The sound of wildlife and rustling trees. The feeling of heat on her skin as well as the gentle breeze of the wind was something she should have known was a simple pleasure worth having compared to what she gets whenever she infiltrated privileged establishments. She couldn't stop herself from giggling happily but quietly, twirling around with her arms spread while her eyes are closed. She could end up smashing her face to a tree but she wouldn't care otherwise. She's alive. That was all that mattered. She was given a chance to try again, and she intends not to waste even a single second of it.

And as expected, she hit something with her face. Something hard and stony. She squeaked before she hit her rear to the ground but she ended up laughing herself silly for her own mishap. She laughed so hard she was actually crying, and her tears ran endlessly. Rubbing the sore spot on her face and wiping her eyes, she squinted against the light and looked at what she slammed into.

A face made of rock and hardened earth stared back at her. Her mind immediately recalled the Rock Golem before her death and this happened to be the same one.

She did not fear it. Instead, it fascinated her, especially when it offered her a gigantic hand of sculpted stone, as if silently asking her to stand on it. Looking on for a few more seconds, she laid her feet into its rugged palm and her arms flailed wildly to maintain her balance when it suddenly lifted her up to the hump on its back, which she jumped onto and held tightly on. After making sure that she was there, the stocky being turned around and began trudging onwards to a location, rhythmic rumbles all the way. She made no objections, making the most of it by enjoying the scenery slowly passing by her as well as the ride itself. She hardly met anything other than a witchbeast that offered a ride to her before she could request it.

She sat on its rocky shoulder, white legs hanging freely and her brown hand holding onto the hump while the other was raised high in the air as if to catch the wind. Which is likely the case for her. She's simply enjoying the feeling of the wind passing through her fingers and maybe the branches of trees whenever she could reach one passing by. Her eyes still squinted against the light but it didn't stop her from smiling.

She was looking at things differently now compared to her first lifetime. She stopped giving anything a passing glance. She regarded the details very deeply, and she's left at awe by how everything could be so beautiful. The scenery, the smells, the noises—it's like there is a song playing everywhere she goes. The subtle blowing of the wind, the little rustles of trees, even the Golem's rumbling body felt like it was making a tune of its own.

And so, she enjoyed Mother Nature for what felt like half an hour of travel, heading onwards to what seemed to be a plume of smoke. Eventually, she smelled roasting meat in the air. Not like the one she smelt in the cave but this one made her water. Grilled meat. Held over the fire by a spit. The edges of her jaw began aching and it took most of her self-control to stop herself from jumping off the Golem's shoulder and running after its source. She's very hungry. She may have been reborn but that did not mean she's full. She did suffer 4 whole days of food deprivation. She could even see her own ribcage when she was being bathed earlier, the same could be said for her arms and legs, especially her legs that weren't covered by any sleeves thanks to her skirt. She might as well be a fleshy skeleton at this point. It's a wonder that she didn't even keel over from weakness by now, or even managed through several hours of physical exercises in the cave without feeling tired at all.

Did being revived leave an aftereffect on her body?

When she was just a hundred meters away from the rising plume of smoke, the Golem halted and lowered its massive upper body to the ground, indicating that she's left to walk on her own at this point. Slipping off its rocky shoulder and landing on her feet, only to lose strength and fall on her rear. "Ow…"

She may not have felt exhaustion but her muscles aren't as great as they had used to, as if they had become loose and weak during her stasis in the tub.

The sound of rumbling earth drew her attention and she watched the Golem trudging away as soon as she had gotten off. Mechanical and mindless, like the tool it is. Almost just like her, dragged around by money and a contract and hardly any attempt to define herself properly besides her killing habits. Since it has no mind nor heart, it doesn't have any obligation for self-identity like her nor any entitlement to receive sympathy.

But still, she has to. "Byyyyyyeeeee…" She waved it goodbye, telling the being that she appreciated its company and service, even if it didn't have the capacity to notice.

Rising to her feet and patting her rear, she continued her journey, seeing things at a shorter elevation of perspective now that she's not at the Golem's shoulder. Under the shadow of trees and close to the earth, she was almost in a trance as she kept her arms spread but near her waist where she can brush her hands across nearby shrubs and bushes whenever she passed them by.

The height of trees. The years it took for them to grow that big. The things it contributed to the environment; home for critters, source of food, giving shade for weary people, keeping floods out, and making the air cool during the summer. It's amazing how one thing could manage so many things at once. And it's only rooted there on the ground, doing nothing except…being a tree. With so many around her, the world is completely safe.

"Good treeeees….." She droned mindlessly with her gaze pointed upwards, her feet taking small steps at a time as she followed the scent of roasting meat to navigate her directions.

She reached a clearing soon afterwards, her gaze on the tree shrubs opening up to the blue sky which she looked away from to save her eyes, and she was graced with quite a sight in front of her.

Bones. Nothing but bones. Instead of femurs, skulls and ribcages, they were in the shape of a chair and a long table placed horizontally in front of it, a bony 2-prong fork and serrated knife placed atop. In the middle of the clearing, meters away from the setting that was stationed close to the edge that provided shade, was a simple fire, a skinned doe leg on a spit roasting over it, suspended by a pair of upside-down Vs made out of bone, attended by a lean skeleton that didn't have a ribcage, pelvis or feet. It instead had sharp stakes for feet and its hands are replaced by four bone curving swords for fingers that seemed too big for dexterous movement but still managing to spin the meat with its 'thumb' and 'finger'.

She suddenly had the urge to turn around and she did.

She met impassive green eyes staring back at her.

She gasped as she recognized him and she looked down in shame, daring not to look at him. She could feel his emotionless but piercing gaze on her person, feeling small as she fiddled with her brown fingers, trying to feel the left hand from it.

She heard skeletal feet step on the grass and coming near her. She stiffened, closing her eyes tightly, awaiting a punishing blow to meet her head. Instead of that happening, a skeleton hand held her bicep, spinning her around and pulling her along not too gently but not too roughly, leading her to the chair before she was released.

Staring at his walking form, she sat on the chair and held still, hands on her lap and watching him docilely. He stepped close to the spit roast, gesturing for the clawed skeleton to stop spinning it and he picked a small piece off the meat glistening in grease, his skeleton fingers saving him from getting burnt. Blowing on the smoking piece a few times, he took a bite, chewed and nodded, popping it whole into his mouth.

With another gesture, he and the skeleton grabbed separate ends of the spit, taking it away from the fires and brought it over to the table in front of her, the grease still bubbling, the smoke permeating a delicious smell and her mouth watered even more takes to it no more than a distance where she could take a bite out of it, licking her lips in anticipation.

But she hesitated. Is it really for her? She turned to him, trying not to look at his orbs of glowing green.

Eat. He mouthed.

She looked at the meat in front of her, then back to him. "Eat…?"

He nodded before walking away, leaving her alone to eat her delicacy in privacy. From the left of the clearing, a normal skeleton arrived, carrying on its shoulders a skinned deer with its right hind leg missing as it followed after him with the bladed skeleton in tow.

Deciding not to concern herself with him, she took the fork and knife and gorged, crying tears of joy and making happy squeaks the whole time. It was so damn delicious. Her time of starving for days are over.

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

The meat was reduced to bones and a spit made out of ivory lying on the table beside it. She leant back on her chair, patting her bloating belly in satisfaction. Letting out a belch, giggling to herself for how loud it is, there's nothing else she'll want any more than something to drink.

Apparently, her wishes are heard, as a pair of skeletons arrived from the clearing the man disappeared to, carrying a jug and a basin filled with water and placing it on the table before stepping away. Standing up, she took the jug first, gulping it down to the bottom. Slightly warm but earthy-tasting water.

While she washed her hands on the basin, she had the urge to turn around again. She knew what it meant.

He's standing behind her. She doesn't know how he managed to sneak up on her like that but he's there. Delicately and meticulously washing her hands, she shook off the liquid and turned around slowly. He was seated on a throne that seemed to look like it was made out of 2 whole skeletons. When she looked behind the table, where the two skeletons had been standing earlier, they were gone.

She turned to him again, feeling trepidation for his abilities of stealth and subtlety.

He gestured to her chair and she complied, rotating it to face him before sitting down.

He stared at her, crossing his arms and if it weren't for his long white hair that swung from the wind, she would have thought that he was frozen like a statue. Or is he? He's not blinking, his chest isn't rising, and his eyes aren't even making the slightest movements. They just fixed the same impassive look on her.

Spending 5 minutes being uncomfortable under his gaze, shifting in her seat and suffering under unbearable silence, she finally let it out. "What do you want?"

He blinked. The only movement she ever saw out of him since she found him sitting down other than motioning her to do the same.

And the monstrous voice resounded in her head, "Ask your questions."

She flinched from its sudden arrival, especially when it came from nowhere but inside her skull. It was devoid of emotion, nothing like the fatherly and loving quality she heard before her death, containing only the sounds of flesh, bones and steel churning together impossibly to form words.

Even if she had faced worse, she was terrified of it.

Her left arm throbbed, her bitten place making itself known to her consciousness. She rubbed it over her sleeve and found her first question.

"Why did you bit me?"

"Because I figured that a child that was separated from the six children who were cursed on that field is nothing but a trap. I found it odd because I do not understand why you were the trap instead of them. You could have been the mastermind or I could be wrong. In order to be safe, I gave you my blood through that bite. That made you easy to track. As soon as the incident was over, I would easily find you if you tried to run. If you had, it would only mean you were the mastermind. If you did not run and were not responsible, I would siphon it out of you and declare you innocent."

She bit her lip and crumpled her skirt. So, she was found out from the start.

She looked up to him but still didn't meet his emotionless gaze. "Who was that skeleton? The skeleton that threw me in that cave….what did it do to me?"

He blinked, unchanging in his whole demeanor.

"That skeleton was my Mother. Because of you, I lost my voice trying to save an idiot who ran after me. Because of you, I was driven to suicide. Because of you, you made me lose hope of living. Mother found out and punished you accordingly. Did you try to run the day after I rescued you?"

She nodded weakly, tears now running down her cheeks from his undeniable accusations, her stomach taking deep stabs from a knife each time. When she tried to run away in the witchbeast forest, a sudden drowsiness and sickness came down on her so suddenly, making her fall to the ground without warning. She had no idea what's happening to her and fell unconscious before she could go too far.

"The blood I gave you is poison mixed with my mana. It will not take affect so long as you aren't far away from me. If you are, you will suffer nausea, body pain, headaches, extreme body heat, dehydration, and blackened veins. Mother took advantage of that by putting you in the one place you cannot escape from, not too far nor too close from my distance. That was the worst punishment she has ever devised for you, fitting for what you did to me."

She sniffled. Bowing her head even further that her chin touched her chest, tears dripping from her eyes and landing on the back of her hands. Among the victims she had made suffer, he was one of them. Inevitably, she experienced the despair and pain he went through because of his efforts to rectify the incident she caused days ago. She forced a maid to suffer blame, even nearly died trying to repent for it. He pushed him to suicide, making his Mother promise punishment on the mansion when he suddenly disappeared in the wand. She was responsible for every suffering he and some people of the mansion went through. Even the maid's close brush with death yesterday was her fault.

"Wh….what are you gonna do to me?"

"You know what's going to happen. Even if you went through 4 days starving and suffering in a cave, dying, left alone in isolation for eternity, and then going through the deaths of the people I killed as well the sufferings of the people you hurt, it is not enough."

The pit in her stomach fell even deeper, and she feared what he's going to do to her. She had went through such sufferings, but what good would having such experiences do when she was brought back to Life, only to go through hell again.

With a voice that was barely ever audible through sobs and chokes, she asked, "Will….you l-let me…go?"

"No." The monstrous voice now had a chilling quality in it.

Without warning, a bony hand snapped around her throat and she was forced up from her chair, her feet touching nothing as they dangled weakly from the air.

There was nothing but pure wrath on his white countenance, eyes burning a blazing green, his hair floating as if underwater and her throat beginning to close under his grip.

The eldritch voice was lined with a stone-cold tone, suppressing extreme urges of murder, "You took my voice. You took my will to live. You forced Mother to take the maid's life. You endangered my friend's name. You endangered children. You forced Viandegroc to take away 65 years of my lifespan." He brandished the serrated cutting knife that was once on the table she ate from in his hand, "You deserved it….! You deserved to suffer for everything you did!"

Laying the sharp side against the revealing flesh from the tatter of her dress, he drew the blade sideways and immense pain clouded her mind.

Her side had opened.

Relief arrived on her neck and she landed roughly on the soil, coughing roughly and making raspy screams with her enfeebled throat, holding the open wound on her side to suppress the bleeding and kicking away from him, sliding across the grass futilely.

….

….….

….….….

She found an anomaly, and her screaming was instantly silenced as she saw it. From a large shred on her dress on the right side of her waist, there was a shredded opening on her white skin, courtesy of a serrated knife that slid across it. The red glistened against the light, she could even see her muscles, some intact and some severed gruesomely….but it wasn't bleeding. She looked at the palm of the hand that tried to suppress the bleeding, the brown hand—there was no bloodstain.

"Eh….?"

"You do not bleed…."

A skeletal hand gripped her shoulder across her back.

"….because you do not want to."

And a big white hand covered her wound whole, giving slight pressure on it, which made her wince and grunt in pain as she felt her skin underneath his palm moving. She felt disgusted, and it hurts.

When he moved his hand away but kept his bony grip on her shoulder, the wound was gone. Not even a scar.

"Not even a scar because I do not want to see it."

She turned to the man who knelt beside her and kept her back from meeting the ground. His face had finally broken away from a static disposition. It held a soft look as it regarded her, no longer appearing like an impersonal stranger and more human.

"Healing magic?"

"Reconstruction." He corrected. The eldritch voice was even colored, like that of a elderly man lecturing a child. "Healing magic is buying new bricks and cement to repair the damaged part. Reconstruction is picking up the broken pieces and putting them back together, like a house of cards." He pushed her by the arm on her back to sit upright and released her, "With the right guidance, you can do the same."

She looked up to him, shocked, finally meeting his green eyed gaze. There was no dullness in his glow now. He was now looking at her, perceiving her as a proper entity in his proximity instead of an object solely meant to suffer his wrath. "You'll….teach me?"

He nodded, sincere and unhesitatingly.

"But-but you said you were going to punish me."

"Wrong. I said you 'deserved to suffer'. I did say that you have not suffered enough but I never once said that I will raise my hand on you."

"Oh…" She felt immense relief, but her confusion only overpowered it. Just what is this man getting into? "What do you want? What do you want with me?"

He turned his eyes to something beside her head. "Look at your hair."

She reached up to touch the wavy locks behind her shoulder, "My hair?"

"Look at the tip."

She pulled her strands in front of her and slid her fingers downwards to the end and found white tips. Eyes wide, she scrubbed her thumb across it a few times and it did not disappear. "What? What is this?"

"That is because of the blood that flows in your veins. My blood." He rose to his feet and extended a hand for her, the left one made of flesh, and she took it, being pulled up to her feet before he continued, "In a week or so, your hair will become white and your eyes will glow like mine."

Her mind soaked in the knowledge carefully, and she took the tip of her hair into her hands again, imagining herself as a white haired little girl with glowing green eyes. The thought was troubling, "I'll become like you?"

"No. Absolutely not. I will not allow it." The eldritch voice was firm. "In time, you will bear the power I wield and it will grow, soon to match mine. But that power will kill you. However, with my guidance, you will bend the control it has on you back on itself." He held his skeletal hand out in front of her and it exhumed green necromantic energy like fire. She could feel its influence not just on her skin but on her soul. "You will make wonders more horrifying, more beautiful that you would rival what this world is capable of making. You will emulate the greatness of Lady Sabarra."

Power. The power to bend the laws of life and death just as he had when he brought her out of the forest. To be able to manipulate the souls of the departed and bend the flesh of others as if it were her own plaything. To create life on the soil. To put life into departed bones. To take the life of others with a mere gesture. To have the powers of a god—

The intoxicating glow disappeared and forced her back into reality. She flinched from her phase of self-awareness and shook her head, getting rid of the sudden muddle haze in her mind.

"Power has a price, and the currency of that power must be paid with freewill."

She held still. She processed the words he said. She figured out the implications. And a crease formed on her forehead.

She looked up to him with a glare, finding the courage of defiance. "Are you saying…that I should give up my freedom…for that?"

"That wasn't a request."

"NO!" She backed away from him, her voice found the strength to shout and it came out cracked. Holding down her embarrassment, she turned the fire in her heart into anger, "I've only just realized how much I wasted my life! You may have got me back to life but you can't just make me give that up!"

He became impassive once more, the eldritch voice turning into an emotionless drone, "You said it yourself. You were a wasted existence, and you're still as immature as your age. You cannot be trusted with your own freewill yet."

Her voice was slowly beginning to find a stable volume above a whisper, and she utilized it to the fullest to exert her will and refusal. "So you're just going to control my life then!? I might as well just leave!"

"Didn't I tell you? If you run away too far from me, you will only suffer the poison of my blood."

"Kuh!" She found no counterargument to that. This man said it himself, he is capable of tracking her down so long as she has his blood in her body. It's all over her. Even if she were to bleed it out, she'd die before she could get rid of its entirety. She lost this battle. "How could you...how could you do this to me...!? You….you monster—"

"WHO'S THE MONSTER HERE!?"

Intense power erupted out of him, his eyes turning into blinding lights of sun-like intensity, his sneer exposing gritting sharp teeth that could easily rip her in half, and the Afterlife opened up behind him, exhuming the wails and moans of the departed souls that it silenced all creation around him. She saw what was horrifying in the Afterlife, she thought she would never fear anything again in the Living World. She was wrong.

"You, who would not hesitate to kill children close to your age without the slightest thought, would dare call me a MONSTER!? Compared to you, the people I kill deserved it, just….like….YOU! Do you think you do not deserve this!? Did you forget that your punishment is still not over!? Did you forget what you've done to me!? If it wasn't for me, you'd be stuck there forever in the darkness of the Dragon's gut doing NOTHING!"

Before he was even finished roaring in that terrible and horrifying voice, she had already collapsed on her rear, curled up and burying her eyes to her knees, clamping down on her ears to deafen the sounds of the Dead wailing everywhere.

She wants them to stop. She wants them to stop. She wants them to stop. They wouldn't stop screaming. The crying kept going. They still kept going. Why are they still going?

"You are an assassin, and you failed your assignment. And I know that the penalty is Death. Even if they figured you were already dead, even if I were to expunge my blood off you and let you go, would Mother even allow it? She'd kill you then, or worse."

She can't hear him. She can't hear him. She can't hear him. She can't hear him. She can't hear him. She can't hear him.

…..

….….….

….….….….they stopped. The Dead stopped screaming and the sounds of the wilderness returned. Wildlife, winds, trees, the beautiful songs that she had never noticed till this day.

She lifted her tearful eyes up from her knees and he was still there. However, he knelt before her, carrying a pitying look, mingling with the righteous rage in his dimly glowing eyes.

"It may not seem like you have a choice here, but it is still open for you." He held out his left hand to her once again, "Take my hand and live, learn from me and perform under me, acquire wisdom and knowledge, attain enlightenment that can help you better yourself, or you may leave to live the way you see fit and take your chances with the world. Eventually, you'll suffer the consequences of your sins just as you have suffered from me. You are still an assassin and someone, somewhere, will recognize you, and they will kill you. It's an inevitability now. You will meet the wrath of those who have suffered from your actions, and that means death, and I will not be there to save you again. Decide, and I will respect it. You have my word as a Priest of the Serpent."

He gave her the power to decide her fate and cornered her with it. What she hated the most was that he's right. There was nothing in the world for her anymore. She's now a target by her own Organization for her failure. Elsa is likely dead by now, considering she just disappeared after getting beheaded. Even if she were to successfully elude her former comrades, who would welcome her into their doorstep without having a knife hid behind their backs for something she's done? Even if she were to hide in the wilderness with the witchbeasts just like before she became human, how could she stop the skeletal menace from finding her again?

It was at this point that she realized that she was now alone in the Living World.

But in front of her was a chance. Not only the chance to survive but the one chance she got in this very moment to live the second life she was granted in a way that befitted her. She's going to be subjected to his will, he's going to take away many things away from her, but at the same time he is also compensating her losses with what he can give. He will give her power, he will give her knowledge—he will give her a guiding path in how she will take Life from now on…..just as Elsa had…..but this time she will be much more conscious about who she is from now on…..

…..would it be really worth it to surrender herself to him?

Wiping her eyes and nose, she rose up to her feet and stared back at him. He did not rise up, only staying on her level, keeping his left knee down and holding his left hand out, waiting for her response. Gulping and clenching her fists at her sides, she responded in hesitating sobs, "If I…..if I say yes….if I give myself to you…..will I still get to be me?"

To her surprise, he nodded with genuine sincerity, the eldritch voice rich with nothing but wholehearted honesty. "Yes you shall. I will be strict but I will never imprison you. You are a Human just like me, and true Humans define themselves. What I offer may change you, from the way you think to the way you act, you may not be able to recognize yourself when you look back at the past in the nearest possible future, but they are only the stepping stones. When the time comes, when your eyes are no longer clouded, I will unbind you from the curse of my blood….and set you free to decide who you truly are."

…..

…..…..

…..…..…..

So it was only temporary? She's only going to surrender her freedom only to have it returned to her? From the looks of what he said, it almost sounds like he is going to take over as her guardian…

…..how would having somebody like that in her life feel like, without having to pretend just like she always had in her assignments? Elsa wasn't her guardian. Meili treated her like an equal, and did so by acting pretentiously like her.

She reached out with both hands, one white and the other brown, and held on to his own, literally dwarfing hers in terms of size but she gripped as tightly as she could.

Maybe it's time to experience what she had been missing out on her stunted childhood. The Assassin Organization took away many things from her. Now that she deserted from them, would she be able to get them back? Would she have more than what she could regain from him?

He had a stiff gaze and she could feel the tension in his body as she held his hand. Her final decision was apparently hard to take in for him as well even though he gave her no choice. He closed his eyes, taking a few calming breaths and as he opened them again, his air became solemn and serious.

Glowing green eyes looked back at her.

"Tell me your name."

She maintained her gaze back at his orbs, now unblinking and unwavering as her resolve backed up her spirit, speaking in her best solemn tone. "Meili….Meili Portroute."

His eyes narrowed slightly, and when she saw them flash green, the voice became low, deep and reverent as it intoned, "I cast aside the name of Portroute and bestow to you the name of Sinnuldel. The Scourge of the Serpent. Master of the Witchbeasts."

His grip tightened around her hands and the intoxicating power he promised for her emanated all around him, casting an aura of swampy green around an outline of his form. She could feel its grip on her person, especially with their clasped hands. She held back its influence and maintained her self-awareness. His hair began floating, his eyes illuminating a trailing light and the eldritch voice reverberated inside her head.

"I, Emurdol Viandegroc, Priest of the Serpent, the Third Right Claw of the Dragon, shall swear on my Flesh that is inferior and on my Soul that is eternal that you, Meili Sinnuldel, will earn the guarantee of my words and shall remain true to them so long as my body remains in this plane. With this oath, I pledge and swear with Vra'Ugthol and Lady Sabarra as my witnesses. Let it be so."

As if to validate his vow, his form erupted with necromantic power, affecting the ambient mana in the air before they congregated back to him, and it made the white hand that held both her own glow brightly in green light.

Then, as suddenly as it had happened, everything went back to normal. His hair stopped floating and his eyes returned to their dim light, tenderly holding her tiny hands with his own.

Meili controlled her breathing that had paced from the proceedings, hardly believing it even as it happened merely seconds ago. All that power, so beautiful, intoxicating, terrifying, and seductive all at once. It felt as if she was in the eye of a storm, untouched yet surrounded by an unstoppable force of nature that decimated anything that dared to come near. And she controlled it. "What….what was that?"

"A contract of fealty and devotion. The closest bond that a Priest of the Serpent will ever make to someone outside of our own people. By the law of my kin and the magic in my blood, I am now sworn to you. It would be the only means for you to earn my loyalty."

His loyalty? Sworn to her? His loyalty to her instead of the other way around?

"As befitting a contract, both sides will benefit from the other. You will surrender everything you have to me. Your freewill. Your right to decide. Your right to act as you will. Your life. Your flesh. Your blood. Your Soul. You do not own them anymore, they are now mine to use as I see fit."

Despondent and disheartened, she could only lower her head for the sacrifice she made just for this choice she made in living her second chance at life.

His other hand, the one of hardened ivory closed around their clasped hands. It was a very gentle grip and her unfeeling brown hand felt it. Her eyes went wide over the sudden sensation as she raised her gaze back up to look at it before turning back to him. His face was gentle, warm. The quality of the eldritch voice matched it, just like before the final moments of her first lifetime.

"In exchange: I will care for you. I will sustain you. Teach you. Guide you. Help you. Protect you. Love you. All that is mine will soon be yours. I will entrust to you my life. Those you love I shall love and your enemies will become mine. No one else will ever harm you again. With the best of my efforts, you will only suffer because of me. Whatever joy this world can offer, I will attain it and give it all to you. The value of one Soul cannot be matched by any wealth in the world and what I give in return will never be enough except for my own."

Her mouth hung at his vow. She was speechless. His every word was full of heart and sincerity, promises that are true and will be upheld to the end. She was trusted with so many things and given many things she never thought he would have for her. She owned him too. Her life was now in his hands, she had his in hers likewise.

Her feet began moving towards him, and she didn't realize it. Their joined hands were eventually pinned in-between both their chests and she never looked away from his loving gaze, their faces barely an inch away from each other.

He neared his lips to her face.

"My blood."

He kissed her right cheek.

"My flesh."

He kissed the other.

"My own."

He gave one to her forehead and met it with his own.

"My daughter."

At this moment, Meili's heart burned. Since becoming self-aware, Meili never knew her parents and never once made an attempt to know who they are. She never knew true love or affection. Anytime Elsa ever treated her like a child, she would rebuff it because 'she's an adult'. She may have been cared for by her but the woman hardly ever expressed honest affection like this without being mocking. She tries to receive such things from the witchbeasts during her private moments. She thought it was equal to the ones kids her age would get from their parents. She was wrong. It was inferior compared to love born of freewill.

It burns. He had cold lips. Cold hands. Cold skin. His feelings for her, however, set her heart ablaze. She felt warm inside, sending an indescribable sensation all over her being. She doesn't know this feeling. She was loved. Loved so much by someone who would surrender everything he has just for the sake of her joy. And he called her Daughter, put first in his heart before anyone else.

He loved her.

And it hurts. Why does it hurt? Was it normal to be this hurt? Does love hurts so much like this? Is being loved by a parent really this painful? Or is it just because she had never been loved like this? Was it because she starved for this sort of attention? Just how long has the want been growing inside her, waiting to be quelled until he arrived?

How long?

"Hik….hi….! Hu….hu…."

She pulled her hands out of his grip and clutched the bones wrapped around his chest, frantically trying to break it open. Taking the hint, his ribcage opened up before he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close to his unarmored chest, his skeleton hand caressing the back of her head as she buried her face into the fabric of his robes. Her little hands clutched him tightly, her brown one ripping the cloth.

Her cries were first subdued, her shoulder hitching in her sobs, and eventually it turned into a muffled wail. His embrace tightened as she began letting out her years of suppressed pain that had been growing from her longing for real affection.

"Shh…shh…..shh….."

The one time he used his own mouth to speak, there was only comfort.

As he did, the world around them continued on without a care, the songs of creation mingling with her cries and the consoling hushes of her new Father.

~~~~~ « ҉ » ~~~~~

Flat-heeled shoes stepped along the trodden path usually taken by Dragon Carriages, accompanied by a hum maintaining a single note and the rhythmic rattles and clicks of bones.

A little girl of fine pristine features that promised a beautiful growth skipped along the road, her braided white hair bouncing in each step behind her and her olive green eyes sparkled cheerfully. She wore a black cloak that matched her short stature, only reaching down to her white ankles, concealing a dark long-sleeve shirt and black short-shorts, the hood down and bouncing along. She exemplified the image of energetic childishness and bright youth, slightly fitting for her age.

The small wavy knife made out of bone stained with dry blood strapped to her belt that revealed itself whenever her cloak opened up as well as the contraption in her gloved right hand that seemed to be made out of vertebras, finger bones and a small skull, however, indicated that she's far from normal despite her looks.

She hummed a one-note song, collaborated by the wand through making percussive beats with the finger bones rattling on the animal skull adorning the top, the latter piece making a loud biting snap at a fixed point of the rhythm. Due to it being early in the morning, the winds and songs of animals strangely absent for the moment, she wanted to fill in the silence with what she can provide.

And ahead of her, her destination is now within sight. Black iron gates, a massive yard and a grand building behind it. The Manor of Roswaal Mathers.

She cut off her song and began walking normally, footsteps silent, hiding her form properly in her cloak and invoking a mysterious air around her person as she put on her hood and pulled it over her eyes. Underneath the shadow, a smirk stretched over her thin lips.

With her free left hand, wearing no glove and her pale flesh bare to the world, she reached for the bars of the gate, the contact nearing, and the iron phased through her grasp, her physical being enshrouded by a black whirling mass that moved like floating ink as she slipped through the barrier and into the other side, her small cloaked form materializing with her hood down.

She panted for breath and she bended down to rest her hands on her knees. She giggled, sweat suddenly forming on her forehead, "Okaaaay…never doing that agaaaiiiin….Papa hasn't even taught me this yeeeet."

The sound of two pairs of footsteps approaching made her stiffen up, and her smirk widened even further. Hiding her exhaustion, her expressions tamed to become composed and in control, she straightened her posture and hid her hands in her cloak.

A pair of girls who looked like twins walked side by side, literal mirror images of the other from their headdress to the hairstyle, with one having the hair and eyes of pink and the other of blue. The demon maid sisters, her Papa had told stories of, wearing custom-made maid outfits with bits of white skin revealing on areas near the chest and detached sleeves on each arm.

The one thing she focused on were the fierce looks they are giving her, one hid the hottest rage in a sea of blue while the scarlet symbolized cold fury. A contradiction to common perceptions of the two colors. They still walked towards her with an aura of nobility and elegance around them like the prim and proper maidservants they are, keeping their hands to themselves instead of reaching for their weapons.

"You are trespassing on Lord Roswaal's property." The blue maid started in a cold tone as soon as she and her sister stood at a fair distance away.

"Though, given that you bothered to take the gate and did not even attempt to hide, that makes you more than a common interloper." The pink maid inferred, crossing her arms and looking at her imperiously. "State your business."

She gave them a sweet smile and a coquettish look, tilting her head while putting her hands behind her back even though they can't be seen underneath her cloak. "Weeell, I come to bring a message to your Lord and Maaaaster. The person who wrote it can't come himself since he's feeling a little dead insiiiiide."

"If you think dying your hair white and wearing a different personality could fool Ram and Rem, think again." Her white eyebrow quirked in interest at the pink maid's cold tone, "Ram knew it was you who perpetrated the ulgarm incident 2 weeks ago. Explain yourself."

"Aaaw! Busted so soooon?" She cried in mock displeasure, recoiling backwards dramatically before righting herself, still maintaining a smile that showed impossibly white and straight teeth. "And we haven't even met befoooore." She muttered before finally exerting her identity.

Her braid suddenly came loose without being touched before her arms swept aside her cloak to reveal her petite form wearing a dark long-sleeved shirt and her black short-shorts that showed her milky white legs and ending in black flat-heeled shoes. With the bone kris stained with dry blood at her belt revealing, it indicated that she did not come here defenselessly, expecting warm greetings after what she did 2 weeks prior.

Putting one foot in front of the other, the black glove that held the bone wand is put against her chest, the finger bones and the small skull clicking and clacking the pattern of greetings before she leaned her upper body forward in a bow without looking away from the two maids, her other hand lifting up a hem of her cloak as if it were a skirt, smiling sweetly all the way.

The details that made their fierce faces crack into shock and surprise were the bright glow in her olive green eyes, the floating sway of her white hair as if it were underwater and the necromantic energy of ghostly green emanating around her form like a green bonfire. Now they know who they are dealing with.

"I am Meili Sinnuldel, the Scourge of the Serpent, and a cute little Wyrmm under the care of my sweeeeet Papa, Emurdol Viandegroc. I come to bust in like I own the place and pass a message Papa has for your Lord, and if anyone of you people who live in this big mansion try to hurt me, you're all gonna end up stuffing your bellies with each other's insiiiides."

Meili's greetings was sweet, amiable, sugary, and disconcertingly seductive, but it carried a hidden ingredient of poison. Those with common knowledge about necromagi, especially one from Pandemonium, should know that listening to such a sound from her kind is the antecedent of allowing her influence to reach your soul and the maids made the mistake of initiating social conventions that demanded her to speak.

Now no one's gonna hurt cute and innocent Meili. Papa will be proud.