Page 4197 -- CCCXXXI.

"If that is your chief concern," said Karkash, "then it should not be an issue."

"Oh yeah? Good to hear. Because it would be a shame if we were to let such a partnership go to waste when there is so much out there that is ripe for the picking, right now."

And Karkash again remained quiet, but in his heart, he could not have agreed more.


Chapter Three Hundred Thirty-One: 'The mist that stirs...'
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Linus looked up from his work, mid-stranglehold. None of the bodies at his feet were dead, but they were all either groaning or unconscious. The average-sized man that was currently in his grip did not look so at all in comparison to his own massive frame. The guy was saying something in Valgan about where to find the next group of holdouts, but Linus' attention had already been stolen by the fog that had suddenly descended around him.

Around everything, actually. He could sense it, thanks to the merge with Dijara.

The fog went far, and it had a presence to it. Soul power. A familiar one, too.

He did not have long to wait before the creator of it made himself known.

As if melting out of the fog itself, Zeff Elroy appeared right in front of him.

"Linebreaker," said the Water Dragon of Sair, stepping around the bodies as he approached.

Linus couldn't help squinting at the sudden strangeness of this all. "Water Dragon. What are you doing here?"

"I've come to get you."

"For what?" Linus finally set his victim down, who was happy enough to crawl away, until a block of ice boxed him in a moment later. "Has there been another attack on Ridgemark?"

Zeff tilted his head at him. "Don't you find it strange that you even need to ask me that?"

Linus didn't understand.

Zeff elaborated, "Don't you find it strange that you're not in Ridgemark, right now?"

Linus just blinked at him. What kind of question was that? Obviously, he was out here cleaning up the remnants of the VMP after their defeat. It was important work, and soon enough, he would...

But... hmm.

Was it more important than protecting Ridgemark, though? Protecting Vino? And the Ruby 88? And all of the RPMP's important infrastructure?

"Ease your mind," came Zeff's voice again, then he seemed to wave someone over.

But no one was there.

Until suddenly they were. Melting out of the fog just the same way that Zeff had done.

Page 4196

Karkash saw no reason to respond, so he merely waited for Abdul to continue.

"...And I do like the idea of building a new sect. If I join, do I get a say in who else to bring in?"

"A say, yes. Nothing more."

"Interesting..."

Again, Karkash waited.

"How many people do you already have?" said Abdul.

"Three."

"Heh. Lean indeed. And who else do you plan on inviting?"

"We can discuss that after you join, not before."

"Mm." Abdul stepped closer, rubbing his chin. "And you're the leader, of course, yes?"

"Yes."

"But what if someone were to challenge your authority? You know how much our peers like to do that, I'm sure."

"Then I will kill them."

Abdul chortled. "Without even a conversation? Just straight to execution?"

"A challenge is formal. A conversation would have already occurred."

"Aha, I see. So if, for example, I wanted to be the boss, how would you react?"

Karkash let the moment linger. The other man was meeting his gaze steadily now, just waiting for him to say or do something.

This domain of shining rocks was still all around the two of them, and the longer Abdul stared at him, the more Karkash found the place unpleasant. Abdul was obviously under the impression that he was in full control of the situation so long as this domain held true.

So Karkash replaced it.

A wave of lightning surged forth from the ground at his feet, tearing through the rocks all the way up and around them like they were no more solid than paper. Electricity crackled in blue and white, filling the domain entirely until nothing of Abdul's creation remained behind.

Abdul looked around at the new sparking environment. "So it's true. You've been blessed, as well. Who is your benefactor?"

Karkash made no response.

"Why so reluctant to tell me? We're clearly kindred spirits, you and I."

"If this is all it takes for you to trust someone, then perhaps you are not a good fit for my sect, after all."

"Hah! What a stick-in-the-mud. I'd hoped Desmond would've helped you loosen up a bit by now."

So he already knew Desmond, then. Not terribly surprising.

"But y'know, I've got big dreams," said Abdul. "If we're gonna be teaming up, I don't mind letting you take the lead, but I will mind it if we're just gonna be doin' as we're told by the higher ups the whole time like good little boys."

Page 4195

This was certainly new. He'd known for a while now that Abdul was hiding something, but he hadn't expected it to be quite like this.

Perhaps Ettol hadn't been completely full of hot air, after all.

"What do you want?" said Karkash, still not turning around.

"Just a bit of attention," said Abdul. "Is that so much to ask?"

"Careful what you wish for."

Abdul snickered. "Alright, alright. Listen. Think of this little display as an even exchange. I know you're hiding something, pal. So just show me, already. We've been fighting side by side for months now, and yet you haven't let me see what you're really capable of. Don't you see? My curiosity has reached critical mass."

Finally, Karkash turned to look at him. "I don't care."

Abdul's head reared back, and he scoffed. "Oh, come on. What's the big deal? Think I can't keep a secret? We could be a tremendous force together, my friend."

Hmm. Impulsively, he wanted to refuse this fool outright. Abdul was just another game-player. A thrill-seeking simpleton, not unlike Desmond.

But that didn't mean he was useless.

"Then join my sect," said Karkash.

The other man paused, then blinked. Multiple times. "A sect, you say? You've made one?"

"I have."

"Why am I only hearing about it now, then?"

"I have not been promoting it."

"Well, why not? That's kind of important, don't you think? If you want it to grow big and strong, you gotta let people know about it."

"It is to be a lean, elite fighting force. Invitation only."

"Ah... I see. Huh." Abdul was scratching his chin now, apparently thinking about the offer quite seriously all of a sudden.

Karkash hadn't expected that, either, honestly. He'd only thrown it out there because he knew Abdul was powerful enough to qualify, but he hadn't thought the man would give it any real consideration. From what he'd heard, Abdul was already very well off in his current sect with the Gatherers. There were even rumors that he might secretly be their true leader.

Which perhaps explained Abdul's next question. "Would you want me to leave my current sect?"

"No," said Karkash. "But I'm sure you know the difficulty of dividing oneself between sects. In time, you will probably have to choose."

"Mm, I dunno about that. I'm pretty good at multitasking."

Page 4194

"Do not lecture me, boy," said Lozaro. "Make your request. I will see it done. Then you will realize how precious my time is to be giving it to you so graciously."

Well, it seemed like he'd already managed to get on the Professor's bad side, if only slightly.

Knowing that, Karkash didn't feel like holding back. "...In that case, make me a weapon that can kill a god."

Lozaro stared at him. His expression had already been irritated to begin with, and it only grew even more so as the silence drew out between them.

Even Lucky seemed to be lost for words as his wide eyes darted back and forth between Karkash and Lozaro.

"Rgh!" Lozaro threw Abdul's arm off of his shoulder and stormed out of the tent without another word.

Karkash merely watched him go.

Abdul stepped up next to him. "Think that was wise? You might've just made a powerful enemy out of someone who could've otherwise been your friend."

Karaksh spared him a glance. "You think you have friends?"

Abdul blinked at him, then raised an eyebrow. "Don't tell me you're one of these fellows who thinks everyone is his enemy."

Karkash walked out of the tent.

Abdul was not content to leave it there, however, and followed. "Answer me, kid."

Karkash had no intention of doing so. He had a mission to prep for--and so did many others, considering how much the camp had livened up since he'd entered that tent.

But then it all disappeared before his eyes.

Karkash found himself standing in a glistening space, filled with shining rocks in all directions. The path forward was gone, as were all others that he could see--even above his head.

He was completely enclosed, he realized, in this glimmering room. No obvious source of light could be seen, and yet the rocks shone just the same.

And while he was surprised, he also remained calm. Unmoved. He did not need to turn around in order to know that Abdul was still there. He could sense him. He hadn't stopped locking onto the man's presence since the moment Abdul had snuck up on him earlier.

"It's rude to walk away in the middle of a conversation, you know." Abdul's footsteps crunched against the rocks on the ground. What language was he speaking now? It didn't sound like Vaelish anymore--nor even Valgan, which Karkash had recently become more proficient in--and yet he still understood it with perfect clarity.

Page 4193

Lozaro looked at Abdul with big, strained eyes but said nothing.

"You're makin' me feel bad," said Abdul, frowning. "In fact, you haven't been your usual, chipper self for a while now, Lozzie. Something eating at you?"

And Lozaro, the one they called the Bloody Professor, seemed momentarily as if he were no more dignified or intimidating than a lost child. But then he regained some of his composure as a scowl appeared on his face. "You were not invited to this conversation, Mari. Leave us."

"Aw, c'mon, don't be like that." Abdul's hand left Karkash's shoulder and found its way over to Lozaro's. He brushed up against the unhappy scientist like they were old friends. "If you've got a problem, you know you can always come to me, right? People tell me I'm a great listener. In fact, some say too good."

Karkash, for his part, had already heard enough and so turned to leave the two of them alone, but Lozaro stopped him again. "Headhunter. Request something of me, and I shall make it for you. Any weapon you desire. Any tool. Name it."

"Oooh," said Abdul, cocking an eyebrow towards Karkash. "Hell of an offer. Could I get something, too?"

Lozaro ignored him and maintained eye contact with Karkash.

Abruptly, he was glad that Hoyohté was not immediately present. She would have taken over right here and picked something in his stead.

"Anything I desire?" said Karkash, not caring to conceal the doubt in his tone.

"Anything," echoed Lozaro. He sounded more confident now, but perhaps that was just an act.

It made Karkash want to request something impossible, if only to see how he reacted. He held onto that for a moment longer, though, wondering if he should really take such a risk in pushing the boundaries of proper conduct with someone who was obviously much more important and influential than himself.

And Abdul's smiling presence was certainly not helping, either. The man looked like he was having a grand time. "Go on. Say something, Bolt. Headhunter. Lightning Llama. Sharky Karkky. Which name do you like, by the way? I'm partial to the Llama, personally. Everyone wants to be some kind of tough, edgy animal, but don't llamas deserve some love, too?"

He said that, but Karkash knew for a fact that Abdul had invented that last moniker himself.

Regardless, the correct response was simply to ignore him, just as Lozaro had done. "There is much that I desire, Professor. Perhaps you should narrow the focus of what I may request."

Page 4192

The meeting continued on for far longer than Karkash would've liked. Lozaro droned on and on about the new trinkets he was providing to them, and if Karkash had the authority, he would've absolutely told him to be more concise.

Especially because the trinkets weren't even that complicated or impressive, as far as he was concerned. They were baubles meant to be distributed to the less powerful members of the each sect. A way of boosting their combat potential.

And there was a lot of magnetization, Karkash noticed. Magnetized knives. Magnetized grenades. Magnetized bullets, even.

Karkash could only surmise that Lozaro had created these things after observing him on the battlefield.

Which was quite annoying, the more Karkash thought about it.

All redundant works. Inferior to what he could more easily do himself.

When the meeting was finally over, Karkash was ready to tear the tented enclosure to pieces just to escape as quickly as possible. Instead, he settled for walking.

Maddeningly, however, Lozaro found him and began talking to him directly.

"A moment, please, Headhunter."

Karkash contained his displeasure and turned to face the man. He said nothing.

"Will you be seeking an audience with Jercash today?" asked Lozaro. His sickly complexion might have made him fit right in with the Venerators--or perhaps he even used to be one.

"No," said Karkash. Why was he asking that?

Lozaro's brow twitched. "...I see. But if he calls for you, what might you tell him of the meeting we just had?"

Karkash's expression was stone, but he had no idea where this line of questioning could possibly be leading. Should he just be blunt?

Pah, why not? The man asked.

"I will tell him that it was a waste of my time."

Lozaro looked absolutely haunted. "I--you--ngh... egh..."

And what was this now? Karkash so badly wanted to try slapping some sense into him, but again, he restrained himself.

Karkash felt a hand on his shoulder as someone else arrived and stood next to him.

"What's the matter, Lozzie?" said the familiar voice of Abdul Mari.

The man they called Lucky, among other odd monikers.

Karkash eyed Abdul carefully. There weren't many people who could sneak up on him like that, anymore. His senses had become highly attuned in multiple different ways, to the point where people kept asking if he had eyes in the back of his head.

And yet he hadn't sensed Abdul there at all.

Page 4191

The representative from the Venerators, Karrigo Marda, stepped forward to grab one of the items on the table and hold it up for inspection. "You've been quite prolific recently, Lozaro. And working with new materials, too? I've never known you to do much with metal."

Karrigo was, for once, not covered in the decorative streaks of blood that his sect was so well-known for.

Karkash might've wondered why that was, if he'd cared.

The Venerators had been trying to court him for months now, but he had no interest; and thankfully, neither did Hoyohté. The last thing Karkash wanted was to become beholden to some new group of fools, regardless of how much new status or influence might be promised.

He much preferred the current path of forming his own sect. The only problem was finding worthy members.

"Yes," said Lozaro. "Working under Jercash has been quite inspirational for me. I must push toward new horizons."

Karrigo returned a sharp smile. "As must we all." The man's pallid complexion could hardly have looked more different from Karkash's bronzey one. Many of the Mardas were like that, apparently, though not all. "But I must say, I do so enjoy your biologic work. I can't help but feel that we are missing a trick by not deploying any of the diseases you've concocted."

"What nonsense are you spewing?" came another voice, drawing everyone's gaze. It belonged to Jarin Soltan, representative of the Gatherers. He was a square, stocky man with more beard than face. "We've no time for such ineffectual strategies. Indulge in your sick delights after we've won, Marda."

Karrigo was the only one who hadn't turned to look at him. "The objective here is to do as much damage as possible, not defeat the enemy. Surely, even your feeble mind is capable of grasping that, yes?"

Jarin scoffed. "Ever the words of a retreating loser. Is that how you raise your sad, pale children to think, too? It would explain much."

A thick silence fell over the small crowd as everyone waited for the response.

And perhaps it was fortunate that it never arrived, because Karkash could sense the burning vitriol within the Venerator. In a different time and place, a fight would have already broken out.

Yet another reason why Karkash had no interest in joining any of these other sects. He would have to inherit their messy feuds, too.

But then again, continuing to refuse them would probably bring some of that to him, regardless.

Page 4190

Zenia picked up each trinket and began handing them to Desmond. "These are a set. You must keep them on at all times."

Desmond fiddled with each one as he donned them. "A set in what sense?"

"They will alter your soul signature," said Zenia, offering him the metal orb last. "If any hostile reapers there are familiar with you, they will not recognize you."

He held up the orb to examine it against the sky, squinting. "What're the odds of that? I'm not very well known. I assume that's why I was picked for this gig in the first place."

She stared at him a moment. "Would you prefer not to have this added layer of protection?"

He smacked his lips and gave her a smile. "I'm just curious. I appreciate the help, of course." The real question was if there was some other function to these things. If they helped conceal him from the Vanguard, perhaps they did the opposite from Abolish.

From the sound of things, the only upside to this mission was going to be that he wouldn't have anyone breathing down his neck for a change, but maybe these damn trinkets were going to change that.

Voicing his complaints, however, was not something that Desmond planned on doing. He'd seen that go poorly for his peers far too many times.

"The orb contains the unique soul signature," said the secretary. "If your cover is blown, then enemy reapers will still be able to memorize that, too. In which case, you may be able to replace the orb's signature with a new one, thereby regaining your concealment."

Ooh. "Impressive. But... how difficult would the replacement process be?"

"Almost impossible," she said flatly. "I did say you may be able to replace it."

He kinda figured as much. If his cover was truly blown, then that would also mean he would be actively hunted by enemy reapers. Even if the replacement itself was simple, doing it while being hunted down would make it challenging.

It probably wasn't simple, either, was it?

He held back a sigh as she continued to explain.

-+-+-+-+-

Karkash looked over the objects strewn across the table. Lozaro stood on the other side, addressing the representatives of numerous sects, of which Karkash was merely one.

"Great strides have been made," said Lozaro, his voice sounding oddly unsteady to Karkash's ears. "But do not expect miracles. These are all effectively prototypes, still."

Page 4189

'It'll be a deep cover operation,' Ez went on. 'And even though you'll be on your own, you also won't be the only one out there.'

Hmm. 'Got a code phrase for me, at least?'

'Yes: "There's no use denying it. I can tell we're kindred spirits."'

'...Bit on the nose, don't you think?'

'Only if you start throwing it around like candy. Use good judgment.'

Yeah, yeah. What a pain. He didn't join Abolish in order to 'use good judgment.' But more and more, that seemed to be his role now. All the fun stuff went to the people with power like Karkash--or the moron who couldn't tell a fun mission from a suicidal one.

Eh, maybe he just needed to accept his lot in life. Stealth and deception could certainly be fun, too. There was nothing quite like lying to someone's face.

But still. The best part of killing was when the victim got to see it coming. Wasn't nearly as satisfying if he couldn't revel in it, at least a little.

They arrived at the parking lot, and apparently, Desmond had his pick of the vehicles. Ezmortig left him alone again while he decided, so he took his time with it, formulating entire identities in his mind to accompany each one. Cars told a story, after all. Overlooking them as mere tools would be missing a trick, he'd always felt.

Before he even made up his mind, however, Ezmortig returned with someone else in tow. A squirrelly-looking woman with a briefcase in one hand. Quite cute, too, in a strange sort of way. Not necessarily to his own tastes, but--

Oh shit, wait, wasn't that Jercash's personal secretary? Zenia?

Desmond corrected his posture as she approached. Now that he was getting a closer look, he wasn't deceived by the frazzled hair and modest stature. Those blue eyes of hers looked like they could cut through glass.

"Desmond Grantier?" she said in airy voice.

"That's me," he said. He'd seen other people saluting on occasion, but nah. That would be a bridge too far.

"Take these with you." She laid the briefcase on the hood of the convertible next to her, then unlocked it and opened it for him to see.

He scratched his chin with his thumb as he eyed its contents. A few different trinkets. A watch. A pair of glasses. And what was that? A metal orb?

Page 4188

'A large offensive is soon to begin,' said Ezmortig. 'So while the heavy hitters are all busy beating each others' brains in, you are going to sneak in and plant some seeds.'

'Seeds, huh? So we're playing a long game?'

'Aren't we always?'

'Wasn't the feeling I got with this incursion. Everyone keeps talking about how it'll be over soon, after one last push. Then we can all go home and lick our wounds.' Naturally, that didn't include the idiots who seemed to genuinely believe that they were about to conquer the entirety of Intar. The opinions of those morons didn't even deserve consideration, Desmond felt.

'Indeed,' said Ezmortig. 'Which is why this mission is important. We are unlikely to get another chance to plant seeds like this. Not for decades. Maybe even centuries.'

Desmond resisted the urge to sigh again. He could see their presumed destination in the distance now, slightly concealed behind a line of tents. They were heading to the parking lot, where all manner of vehicles were waiting, military and civilian models alike.

'So let me get this straight: I'm supposed to sneak into an active war zone where some of the most powerful servants in the world will be duking it out... and accomplish what, exactly? Chatting up a few politicians? Convincing them that, actually, Abolish is just a bunch of chill guys who deserve their support?'

The reaper chortled silently. 'Yes. More or less.'

'Sweet. No problem. That plan's not stupid at all.'

'You've done it before. Multiple times, in fact.'

'No, I haven't. These circumstances are way different.'

'Relax, Desmond. Just planting seeds, remember? You don't need to achieve all of that in a single conversation.'

Oh, boy. He wanted to protest further, but what was the point?

The truth was, he already knew how to proceed. What kind of tactics might work. Politicians were a specialty of his, at this point.

He just really didn't want to go. 'Will I be working alone, at least?'

'Yes. I assume you do not want a team.'

Hell no, he didn't. They always fucked everything up when it came to undercover operations like this. 'Am I allowed to do anything besides planting these seeds?'

'Such as?'

'Mm. Y'know. Maybe just a little assassinating.'

'I'll leave that to your discretion. But not your indulgence. Use your head. I know you can think, Desmond, much as you try to convince people you can't.'

Bah. Indulgence was so much more fun, though.

Page 4187

No, he was stronger than before. Much stronger. In fact, thanks to him, Desmond had barely needed to get his hands dirty, as of late. Which was a novelty. He'd gotten so used to being in constant pain, thanks to the lingering effects of his transfiguration ability, but these days, he almost felt like a normal human being again.

Still, it did beg the question. Just how many times had that guy achieved emergence over this last year?

And was there even more to it than that? His whole vibe felt different, too. Perhaps Karkash was using his electromagnetic ability in order to mess with the air around him. Like a subtle, tingling cage or something.

Why would he do that, though? Just to fuck with Desmond?

...Possibly.

'Get up,' came Ezmortig's soundless voice.

Desmond had been reclining on a wooden stump at the edge of the encampment. All the noise from those weird squid things had gotten pretty annoying, so he'd started maintaining his distance. Plus, it was more difficult for the cultists to find him out here.

He did not immediately do as the reaper requested and instead merely scratched his cheek as he eyed the ethereal white mask that covered Ezmortig's face. 'Got some real work for me?'

'Killing, you mean? That's not your job, anymore. Best get over it.'

Desmond sighed but stood up.

The reaper began floating away.

Desmond followed. 'So what IS my job, then?'

'Outreach.'

He made a face but said nothing.

'You're a charmer when you want to be,' said Ezmortig. 'That is something Karkash will never have over you.'

At that, Desmond's frown actually did turn upside down, just a bit. Compliments from reapers were rare. So rare, in fact, that he knew pointing it out would probably motivate the reaper to either take it back or otherwise explain how it was actually nothing of the sort.

Instead, he tried to focus on the task. 'And who is it that needs charming?'

'Some politicians in Andeyal.'

He stopped walking and groaned. He didn't even bother keeping his next words private. "Are you kidding me? I thought we already agreed that infiltration is a shit detail, right now. The Vanguard's on high alert. Jackson's in the city. I go there, I'm toast."

The reaper turned and waited for him. 'I haven't forgotten. Conceal your voice.'

Desmond eyed the nearest servant a few meters away, then did as requested. 'So what's changed, then?'

Page 4186

And yeah, sure, Desmond knew his place well enough. He was a low-ranking chump, too. But he still had some pride. He didn't really have to start acting like he enjoyed doing bitch work for all these big shots, did he?

Well, if he wanted to climb through Jercash's ranks, then apparently he did.

But that was fine. He wasn't looking to move up in the world. Maybe one day. Assuming he lived that long. Which he probably wouldn't, he figured.

And besides, there was no telling how long he would stick around with Jercash's men. Ezmortig was truly unpredictable. At any point, the reaper might decide that they should go try their luck somewhere else.

And thanks to Karkash and Hoyohté, their little entourage actually had enough autonomy to do that, these days.

Those two were a lightning rod in more ways than just physical. Ever since that hubbub in Kavia, people had started calling Karkash the Bolt of Kavia. And that had only been the inciting incident.

Karkash had made even more of a name for himself as a kind of assassin on the battlefield. Not one that employed much stealth, but one who had nonetheless managed to snipe several famous Vanguardians and "local heroes" in recent months.

Jercash had even met with him directly and promoted him twice.

A lesser man might've felt intensely jealous, but Desmond was perfectly fine with riding Karkash's coattails all the way into the sunset, if need be. The only surprising thing, really, was that Karkash was actually letting him.

They couldn't be more different. Karkash originated from Dozer's side, and Desmond from Morgunov's. They rarely agreed on anything, and on paper, they shouldn't have gotten along at all.

Yet Desmond harbored no ill feelings towards him. And for some reason, Karkash still hadn't left him behind.

Desmond couldn't quite wrap his head around it, but maybe it was just down to the reapers. Hoyohté and Ezmortig rarely talked in front of him and Karkash, but he had noticed them being conspicuously absent over the last few months, perhaps to discuss their plans in private.

Whatever was going on, he supposed there wasn't much point in worrying about it. He was just a servant, after all.

There was definitely something strange going on with Karkash, though, and it wasn't just all the extra attention inflating his ego. Probably.

Page 4185

Well, at least he wasn't one of those poor saps who'd been tasked with infiltrating Andeyal. That job had been so obviously a shitshow waiting to happen that Desmond had quietly made his exit when they started handing those assignments out.

Thankfully, there'd been plenty of eager volunteers to ensure that his presence was not missed.

These followers of Jercash were something else. Thus far, Desmond had operated in sects under Dunhouser, Ivan, Vanderberk, and even briefly Dozer--and none of them compared to what he was seeing here under the Devil's Knife.

Which was really saying something. He hadn't expected anyone's fanaticism to ever match that of the feverish cult that followed Dozer around, but here we were.

Man, that had been a fun time, though, hadn't it? In its own way. Desmond always loved finding a new cult to join. He'd grown up in one, after all. They always felt like home--even when they were completely batshit crazy. Hell, especially when they were.

And this one following Jercash was definitely up there. They weren't yet deifying him like Dozer's were, but he could see the beginnings of it. Probably just a matter of time, assuming the Knife managed to hold everything together long enough.

They did have their rituals, though. Different sects had different ones, but some were quite exotic, he'd found. The Venerators liked to drink blood and draw all over each other's bodies. The Harvesters liked to gather organs from their victims in order to eat them in ceremonial banquets, even making utensils out of their bones.

And the Gatherers liked to chant Jercash's name while playing in leaves. Big piles of leaves. Like little kids.

Desmond felt like he was still missing something with that group. They were far too nice and docile for an Abolish sect. It was actually quite unsettling. He wanted to learn more, but something deep in his gut kept telling him to stay away from them. Especially that guy they called Lucky. Sure, Desmond had met plenty of other smiling maniacs during his time with Abolish, but there was just something different about him.

Something that made Desmond's skin crawl.

Regardless, the thing that really set Jercash's cult apart was just how enthusiastic everyone was. Whenever one of the higher-ups needed something, countless people were chomping at the bit to take care of it.

Page 4184 -- CCCXXX.

Had she magnetized them, Abbas wondered? That was certainly within her capabilities, but he had yet to explain that upgrade to her. He'd wanted to wait until a few more iterations were complete.

He continued watching her in silence.

From him, the "art" of invention had never felt truly so. It was always more of a slow grind. Rigid and scientific.

With Dyna, though, that had all changed.

It truly felt like seeing a vision in his mind made real. A feeling turned tangible.

And even though he completely understood her capabilities currently, he could not say the same for her potential. Where would she be in five years? Or even just one, for that matter?

With the Candle at his side, the prospect equal parts exhilarating and unsettling.

One thing about the future was certain, however: he was very much looking forward to seeing her pick apart those death machines from Morgunov like they were cotton candy.

The mad bastard was going to regret ever letting him see them up close.


Chapter Three Hundred Thirty: 'Surging devils, prepare thyselves...'
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Man, what the hell was even going on around here, anymore? Desmond Grantier found himself asking that far too often, as of late.

Ever since that little operation in Atreya went awry, it had just been one mess after another. Despite the fact that they'd gotten away with so much money, it somehow still felt like they were poor as dirt.

The reapers were being stingy pricks, of course, not letting him enjoy a nice vacation and splurge on whatever he wanted, but that was to be expected, of course. Desmond had learned long ago that his wants didn't really matter much when it came to Ezmortig and the rest of the Abolish.

He was just a tool. One of countless expendable bodies. No sense in getting worked up about it.

Best to just take things as they came--to enjoy this wonderful thing called life as much as he could, even if everyone around him seemed perpetually determined to stamp it out. Their own included, apparently.

But even that mentality had gotten rather difficult to maintain. It didn't take a genius to see that this war hadn't been going great for Abolish as a whole. Sure, they might've gotten a few good licks in here and there, but what did that matter when it was basically just Jercash on his own now?

Seriously, what were they hoping to accomplish here in Intar?