Chapter Thirty-Five: Berserker Soul

Chapter Thirty-Five: Berserker Soul

No, Selestine said.

I shifted in my seat and exchanged a glance with Duchess Griselda.

No? I repeated, slightly annoyed.

I will not sign these accords as the representative of the Reformists, because our movement has no head, Selestine explained. Reformist churches are interdependent, Lord Merchant. They share donations and collaborate while remaining self-governed. The signature of one does not bind the others.

I suppressed a sigh of annoyance. Duchess Griselda had invited me and Selestine to her castle for another round of negotiations over the Walbourg-Archfrost peace treaty draft. I would rather have stayed at the manor to help comfort Soraseomy friend hadnt left her room since she received that fateful message, which worried me greatlybut duty called.

The meeting had started out well. Duchess Griselda mostly supported my treaty draft and agreed to represent it at the Estates-General; which left only the question of securing Reformist support for the treaty.

Unfortunately, Selestine proved more stubborn than expected.

I admit I am confused, Lady Selestine, Griselda said. I was under the impression that you negotiated with the Arcane Abbey on behalf of the western Reformist movement.

Hundreds of Reformist churches gave me a mandate to solve their disagreement with the Arcane Abbey, Selestine replied. This is a purely theological conflict. Signing your treaty, meanwhile, would mean involving ourselves in political matters. Conflating faith and politics is exactly the kind of behavior our movement criticizes. I do not intend to become a second Fatebinder, Lady Griselda, nor to create a new Arcane Abbey. It is not my place to tell people how they should live their lives.

You dont have a choice in that, I countered. Youre the Priest and a Reformist icon. No matter your intentions, many people will take your words as doctrine. If you arent upfront, then you will allow others to interpret them to suit their own agenda.

Then let me be frank. Selestine cleared her throat. I believe all forms of belief should be respected, so long as they do not infringe on the good of others, and that matters of faith should be clearly separate from matters of state.

An idealistic approach, but one with severe limitations. I immediately asked, Would you accept cults dedicated to the Demon Ancestors then?

I would, if they did not harm anyone. Selestine smiled thinly. I understand a pacifist Church of Belgoroth would be something of an oxymoron, Lord Merchant, but everyone should be free to worship at the altar of their choice. We should not punish beliefs, only practices.

You possess an interesting approach to religion, Ill admit it. Albeit one I found frighteningly naive. However, there are beliefs that are harmful by themselves. If priests say that this race of man is inferior to another, that loving a certain kind of people is wrong, then it will foster violence even if those same priests do not carry the knife themselves.

But who can say which belief is acceptable? All of us are prisoners of our little world. Selestine shook her head. Battles of beliefs must be won with words and arguments Robin. Violence is legitimate when used in the defense of yourself and others, but it should never be the first resort.

Some souls are born deaf to reason, Selestine. You couldnt negotiate with the likes of the Knots. You cant be tolerant of the intolerant.

We are digressing, Duchess Griselda cut in. Lord Robin raises an important question: do you support this agreement?

I do, Selestine confirmed. But I support it as a person, not as a spokeswoman for the Reformists. You are asking me to sign it as head of the movement, which I am not.

I saw an opportunity and pounced on it. Would you support it as the Priest?

Selestine frowned slightly at me. What difference would that make?

Archfrosts first king was a Priest crowned by the Fatebinder, I reminded her. I supposed that since she came from Erebia, that particular tidbit of Archfrostian history escaped her. To have the current Priest sign this compromise would give weight to both the royal familys suzerainty over Archfrost and legitimacy to its future parliament.

Moreover, I knew that even if Selestine didnt sign it as head of the Reformist movement, her own public support for the accords would give it weight among her supporters. Since Archfrosts royalty derived its legitimacy from the Arcane Abbey, they needed reassurance that their own faith wouldnt be suppressed upon reintegrating into the kingdom. Having Selestine approve of the agreement should convince most of them of our goodwill.

I do not wish to bind future Priests to my decisions, Selestine insisted. This treaty is an undeniable step forward, but who can say if future generations wont go farther? You tried to find a middle ground by respecting religious freedom while calling the Arcane Abbey the faith of the majority of Archfrosts people, but how long will that assertion last? Decades? A century?

I have already taken that into account, I said before reading some of the clauses. Title Sixteen, Article Eighty-Nine. The current text may be subjected to revision through procedures detailed in articles Ninety to Ninety-Nine

Both Duchess Griselda and Lady Selestine listened with attention as I reviewed the methods that would allow for a modification of the treaty: either a vote by two-thirds of both chambers combined and with the kings approval, or through the direct consultation of the entire population of the united kingdom. Duchess Griselda didnt voice any opposition to the measure, since either solution would de facto require Walbourgs votes.

Selestines expression grew more thoughtful the further I read. She was a Hero, not a zealot. I didnt fault her for trying to stand by her principles. She wanted faith and politics to be separated. I respected her position. One day, we might even make it a reality.

However, like it or not, state decisions did influence faith and vice-versa. This treaty wouldnt just ensure peace between Archfrost and Walbourg; it would also legalize freedom of religion throughout the entire kingdom.

Lady Selestine, let me be blunt, I said. I understand your refusal to compromise on what you believe in, but there is a very strong chance that these accords wont pass through Walbourgs Estates-General without your assistance. Prolonged conflict between Walbourg and Archfrost will serve no one but the Knots.

If we make it easy to violate principles, Lord Merchant, then what value do they have? Selestine countered. Still, her expression softened slightly. She was wise enough to understand we all meant well. I must meditate and consult the other members of my movement for advice first. This treaty should be agreeable enough if I am allowed to sign as the current Priest without binding my successors.

That should be easy enough, Duchess Griselda conceded before turning to face me. What of the future King Roland? Any news from him yet?

I have sent him the draft and now await his answer, I replied. Eris should hopefully return with Rolands validation in the coming days. I am confident he will agree with most of the treaty.

The Devil of Greed is in the details, as they say. Duchess Griselda intertwined her fingers. If Roland does agree with the proposal, I believe we can secure a favorable vote at the Estates-General. My barons will follow my and Lady Selestines lead.

I would have allowed myself a sigh of relief under most circumstances, but I knew too well that no contract was secure until its signature. I had done what I could to both find a compromise and lobby its different parties to sign. All that remained were Rolands validation and the vote at the Estates-General.

I also had another threat to factor in.

As if on cue, Vernisla opened the door to the meeting room and stepped inside. From her short breath and the fact she carried her spear to a diplomatic gathering, I guessed she had just barely climbed down from her bird mount and rushed straight here.

Milady, Lady Selestine, Lord Robin, she greeted us with a fist against her chest. Might I have a moment of your time?

Duchess Griseldas brows furrowed slightly. It is not like you to interrupt me this way, Vernisla. You must have urgent news to report.

Is it about the Knots? I asked.

Yes, Vernisla confirmed sternly.

I knew it. I immediately listened with alertness, as did Griselda and Selestine. Things were going too smoothly here.

I returned from Clearwater empty-handed, Vernisla explained. The golems that had passed the border a few days ago did not reach the town. We suspect they might have been smuggled into Walbourg itself.

Golems? Much to my surprise, Selestines crimson eyes narrowed with a hint of anger as she turned towards Griselda. You allowed golems into your country?

Her tone caused the duchess to scowl. We could not confiscate them without risking a deadly fight.

You should have fought. Selestine did not raise her tone, but quiet fury burned in each of her words. Golems are abominations that keep the souls of the dead trapped in metal shells. Their existence is a crime against the worlds natural order. The mere fact you allowed these constructs free-passage into your duchy without scrapping them severely disappoints me.

They cannot be in the city, Griselda insisted, her voice laced with disbelief. Our soldiers and citizens would have noticed such giants. Criminals would have an easier time smuggling a behemoth inside our walls.

According to early interrogations, the golems might have been broken down into parts and snuck into the city with the expectation of being reassembled, Vernisla replied. I cant say whether they can do that or not.

It should be possible, I confirmed. At the end of the day, golems moved because souls were infused into each of their limbs. Expert witchcrafters could easily break them into small pieces without killing them. If their creator is there to put them back together.

Which means that Will is likely in the city right now.Marika will be on a warpath and in danger. From what I knew of the man, I bet he would unleash his golems against her first. He had created them after all. I would be surprised if they werent built to obey his commands first and foremost. We need to strike before they can take the initiative.

What purpose would it serve? Duchess Griselda shifted uncomfortably in her seat. It would be madness to attack the Estates-General. They lack the support for a coup, and an attack would only encourage me to stomp them out. I dont see what the Knots can reasonably expect to gain from deploying golems inside my capital.

Thats your mistake, Lady Griselda, I said. You assume that the enemy is rational. It isnt.

Something had been bothering me for a while. The two Knot leaders we had encountered, Florence and Sebastian, werent demons; yet both led organizations including violent creatures much stronger than them. I wondered why the Demon Ancestors would allow this until I remembered why Chastel took orders from Florence: because she inspired him.

Demons were a shadow of their human selves; all their warped desires distilled into a parody of a person. Sforza had murdered his own men within seconds of his transformation, even though he had nothing to gain from it. Chastel was a murderous beast in human skin. The rest barely managed to pass for humans, because they had lost all inhibitions.

Demons had no impulse control whatsoever, and the golems were Will Costas creation; a man so vindictive that he tried to murder his own wife and son out of frustration. Without Florence to keep these people in line, they would probably devolve into pointless bloodthirst.

These golems were created by the Knot of Wrath, whose leadership we decimated in Snowdrift, I reminded Griselda. I strongly suspect that their replacement lacks any form of long-term planning. Chaos and slaughter are an end in themselves for these people.

The duchess let out a snort. Do they think we will fold to intimidation? Or that an attack on my city will destabilize our institutions? If so, they shall learn the cost of their mistake.

We wont give them time to assemble a single golem, Milady, Vernisla added with confidence. I have already compiled a list of suspected locations where they could be keeping them. All I need to raid them is your authorization.

It would be best if we could deal with this quietly, especially before the Estates-General, Griselda replied, her fingers intertwined into a thoughtful pose. What places do you have in mind?

There are only a limited number of warehouses suitably large enough to assemble golems of this size. Vernisla unfolded a map of the city onto our work table. Her hand traveled across the paper lines to point at various locations. The Fronan Printing Press offices, the granaries, a handful of noble estates, the Abattoir

The Abattoir? I interrupted her. I did not recognize the name. Whats that?

A slaughterhouse in the new district, Duchess Griselda explained to me. When Walbourg grew too large, we centralized meat production into a single complex for sanitary reasons. Tens of thousands of cattle heads roll each year on its killing floor.

It felt as though I had lived this moment before, in an unsettling way. This whole setup sounded awfully familiar to me.

Selestine was the first to notice my unease. What is it, Lord Merchant?

Thought so, Vernisla commented with a hint of disappointment.

Theres some bad history there. My eyes shifted from Vernisla to Soraseo. I noticed the latters hands trembled on her swords hilt. Did she let someone she should have slain escape and lived to regret it?

If I may, Lady Marika cleared her throat. Lady Priest? Lady Selestine?

You may call me however you wish, Selestine replied calmly. What thought clouds your mind?

You can summon miracles, no? Marika asked the Priest. Cant you simply wipe out this place with a quick prayer?

Selestine joined her hands, her back straighter than an arrow. The Four Artifacts are forces of nature. They never act subtly. If I call upon them to intervene and they agree, this entire district might suffer the consequences. Neither can I expect which form their intervention will take.

Moreover, most of this places employees are legitimate workers blissfully unaware of its macabre purpose, I added. We should limit casualties if we can.

Selestine nodded quietly. Beyond my mark, I am a trained exorcist who has undergone the Second Awakening. I can seal the Berserk Flame on my own if needed.

That would free me up to help deal with the golems, Marika conceded. My power can make the difference there.

Vernisla sharply nodded to herself. I would like to go for the first option with your support, if you think we have little to gain from taking captives. It offers us the best odds of wiping out our foes in one strike.

I didnt mind this option. I doubted Will or any Knot of Wrath member could provide more information than their imprisoned leader. The debacle with Sebastian remained fresh in my mind too. I didnt want a repeat of that disaster.

I do not have much experience with military operations, but I will offer what help I can, Mr. Fronan said with no small apprehension. Selestine kept her arms crossed, but offered no resistance. Neither did Soraseo, who hardly appeared to be listening anymore.

Seems like a good enough plan to me, Marika commented. I can put up ramparts to ensure they stay boxed in. Make sure they all burn in their holes.

You dont want to put Will in chains first? I asked with an eyebrow raised. Her reaction surprised me. Tell him how much youve surpassed him in his final moments for catharsis sake?

Why would I want that? Marika shrugged her shoulders. I want Will out of my life for good, thats all. I dont care who puts him in the ground, Robin, so long as he sleeps in the dirt.

Thats refreshingly practical, I commented. I couldnt help but notice the contrast with Mersie, who insisted on killing her targets personally.

You said it yourself. I dont owe him anything. Marika scoffed. Not even his death.

Hopefully, she would see her wish granted soon enough.

After coming to a decision about how to proceed, we divided the roles between ourselves and waited for nightfall. Vernisla, as befitting a military commander, quickly organized a blockade of the Abattoir. The meat market was closed and evacuatedofficially for fear of a rising epidemicand the beast pens emptied. Marika used her powers to raise makeshift barricades at every street corner and we staffed them with guards and crossbowmen.

We had the Abattoir surrounded. The staff had already returned home, so the only people within its walls should belong to the Knot of Wrath. The city watch would swiftly arrest the other employees for interrogation later.

As the Merchant, I was asked to stay in the reserve at the southern blockade near the belfry; the least exposed part of the defensive perimeter. Unsurprisingly, Vernisla assigned Soraseo to my area. She understood that we needed the Monk in case the operation went south, but that she wouldnt perform well in her current state.

Truthfully, I would rather see Soraseo sit this one out. My friend clearly suffered from deep depression. A pity we couldnt spare someone capable of dueling a golem on their lonesome. The best I could do was to watch over her.

Before being assigned to the northern barricade near the meat market, Marika delivered me one of the two Dreadwolf cloaks. It was quite the refined piece of clothing. Its enchanted fur quickly shrouded the armor underneath from sight once I put it over my shoulders; I actually had to keep the hood down to leave my face visible. A few of the guards were already sending me strange looks. I looked like a floating head to them.

Mr. Fronan and the sappers should be collapsing the tunnel by now. Our Druid had little combat experiencehence why Marika lent him the second invisibility cloakbut his fast-growing roots should swiftly obstruct the Knots escape route. Will has to know we have him surrounded by now.

I took a quick glance at the future battlefield. Selestine stood atop a roof, a finely crafted and dragon-shaped runestone scepter in her hands. A group of witchcrafters and city exorcists waited for a signal next to her. Archers had taken a position on the belfry and other buildings. I couldnt see Marikas face among the northern troops, but I assumed she stood ready.

As for Soraseo her armor had never seemed so heavy on her, nor her hold on her grip on her weapon so loose. The proud and fearless warrior who had demolished Fenrivos and dueled a golem on her own was nowhere to be seen. Only its ghost remained.

I can buy it, I told her.

My friend looked at me with a confused look. She briefly muttered words in her native tongue in surprise, before quickly defaulting back to Archfrostian. I I have no understanding of your meaning, Robin.

Your anguish. Your memories. Whatever gnaws at you. It hurt me to see her in such a sorry state. I can take it away if you would rather focus on the battle.

For a brief moment, Soraseo appeared to thoughtfully ponder my offer. She stared at me with sad eyes, her expression dead as a tombstone. She gathered her breath and struggled to find her words.

I have appreciation, Robin, but I must deny your proposal. She focused back on the Abattoir. It will not provide any help.

She had lost someone. I could tell from her reaction. Her answer did not reassure me either; nor the grim look in her eyes when she stared at the slaughterhouse. Id seen it before after Belgoroth reminded her of her past crimes. That gaping emptiness that allowed little to no satisfaction.

Dont, I all but ordered her.

What is your meaning? she asked softly.

Dont throw your life away. Her desire was written all over her face. As your friend, I will never forgive you. Neither will Marika or Colmar. When she wouldnt answer me, I grabbed her helmet and forced her to lock eyes with me. You dont get to die. Do you understand me? You wont die today. It wont give you absolution.

Soraseo stared at me without a word.

No, scratch that. Her eyes looked through me. My words had entered one ear and escaped through the other. My concern had failed to reach her heart. It hurt mine more than a dagger to the back.

Still, I refused to give up on her. There had to be a way to snap her out of her despair.

I was considering how to shake her out of her depression when I heard the signal.

It came from the sky in a high-pitched screech loud enough to wake the dead, followed by the flapping of great wings in the night sky. Vernislas firehawk flew high above our heads with burning feathers and a glorious battle cry. A squad of wyvern riders followed after them both in a tightly packed formation.

Curses. I needed more time to get through to Soraseo. Now I feared she might do something stupid if allowed to fight now. Its too soon!

The Cavalier opened hostilities with a package delivery.

I saw the bag of fire runestones fall from her hand to the Abattoir below. It hit the roof with a cataclysmic blast that illuminated the night. The wyvern riders swiftly dropped more bombs in a cacophony of fire and sparkles. I squinted to protect my eyes as the ground shook beneath my feet.

The bombardment swiftly blew off the slaughterhouses roof. Flames spread through the Abattoirs wooden support beams within seconds, raising columns of fire and smoke into the sky. The western stone wall crumbled under its weakened flank, crushing the empty pens beneath in a landslide.

A blue hue at my visions edge caught my attention. I looked up at Selestine and held my breath. The Priest had gathered a swirling sphere of blue flames above her staff; one larger than a man and brighter than the sun. I saw her chest rise as she gathered her breath, then she unleashed the condensed essence with a slight flick of her wrist. The azure fireball soared across the sky before hitting the Abattoir faster than any arrow. A burst of light and smoke followed in its wake.

Id dabbled in witchcrafting, but here I stood in awe of a master.

How does she do this? Id never seen any witchcrafter pull off such a feat even with plenty of fire runestones. Selestine was no Mage, so where did she pull the required essence? Thin air? Who is this woman?

At least the results spoke for themselves. Flames consumed the Abattoir in an instant. I heard screams coming from the pyre, but no cultist nor demon escaped the debris. If this continued, we might kill most of them without firing a single arrow. The witchcrafters would then contain the Berserk Flame once the normal fire died out.

I knew better than to expect an easy victory, and what happened next proved me right.

I sensed it in the air. A sudden surge in temperature higher than what any pyre could produce. A rancid smell of sulfur and burned flesh, soaked with ashes straight from a charnel pit. A terrifying pressure that reached all the way down to my bones and marrow.

Something was coming at us. Something great and terrible.

Soraseos hand moved to her forehead. My friend grunted in pain, her fingers scratching at her helmet. A question formed on my lips and died the moment I saw her mark burning bright on her skin.

Debris went flying without warning. A metal titan emerged from the Abattoirs rubble with a fearsome roar, its heavy footsteps starting a small quake.

Marika was half-right. Will had barely managed to rebuild a single golem. It was missing protective plates on its right shoulder and the crossbow weapon its siblings used near the capital, but it carried a single claymore in its left hand.

But the way it stood up, its back straight, its head held high with aristocratic disdain, its right hand curling into a tight fist the hateful, oppressive aura of murderous anger radiating from its armor Those were new.

The other golems were mindless machines, mountains of steel fueled by maddened souls. This ones movements betrayed a spark of intelligence. A sense of purpose. It burned inside and out. The Berserk Flame flowed through the metal frame like blood through veins, animating its gears, possessing its pistons and joints.

A chill traveled down my spine as I remembered that a certain class allowed its wielder to master any kind of weapon.

Demonic light shone through the golems visor. A booming voice stronger than roaring thunder erupted from its helmet; one I had heard once before in Snowdrifts bowels and that confirmed my worst fears.

Weep in despair, mortals.

A sword-shaped mark burned bright on the back of the golems left hand. The yellow hue of the Berserk Flame swirled around its blade and a crown of wicked fire arose above its helmet. The golem took a step forward, not with the lumbering clumsiness of a machine, but the martial grace of a wicked Knight on a warpath.

For I have returned.

The Lord of Wrath walked among us, with fire for a crown and death for a scepter.