Return of the Tower Conqueror

Empire Engulfed (XIII)

Strange rumors began to circulate the Kingdom's capital; they spoke of two masked groups, impossible to determine which one being odder, who dug into the world under to rescue the imprisoned commoners. The rumors held a great deal of validity as it was precisely those commoners that started them and stoked them; however, they didn't speak of their saviors as ineffable but, rather, as... strange. The masks they wore were strange, their conduct even stranger, and the way they just tossed them out into the world even stranger.

When the news reached Eldur's ears, he couldn't help but put on a strange expression; it was a subtle yet a remarkably devious move. His lips curled up into a smile as he took a sip of wine, burning up the piece of paper with the information on it and glancing out through the window and onto the lavish city.

Everything was ready, he knew; all he had to do now was to lit a fuse... and the whole Kingdom would go up in the flames of chaos. The Throne... a single chair desired and worshiped by so many... he couldn't help but chuckle.

"Don't be so relaxed," a raspy voice startled him, causing his smile to vanish immediately. Swallowing a mouthful, he glanced back and noticed that, unbeknownst to him, an old man had snuck back in, again. "I've sensed nearly a dozen Awoken recently. If you aren't careful, we'll lose."

"... a dozen?" the Prince frowned. "How is that possible? I thought nobody was allowed to descend Crucibles for the first half a century of Conquest outside of the Conquerors themselves."

"Rules are rules, boy," the old man scoffed. "They're not binding chains."

"How strong are the Awoken?" Eldur asked with some pensiveness. Technically speaking, Eldur himself was 'Awoken' -- however, the term didn't really apply to him. 'Awoken' referred to those who managed to reconfigure their classification within the Conqueror's Cycle -- that is those fifty years. Though Eldur himself had undergone that reconfiguration as well, it was entirely due to the Tower's Blessings as he was just a mostly ordinary Prince beforehand.

"Strong enough to put a chink in our plans," the old man replied coldly. "Two of them, especially, are frightening. Even though I can't ascertain their classifications, both's are draped in aura of Heroics and Mythics."

"Without them, you would have been discarded long ago," the old man looked at him mockingly. "The Blessings are double-edged swords, little chick. Because of them, even if you keep failing, there will still be a chance for you to rise. It's the compensation for essentially being whetstones. But enough about that; how far along the dig are you?"

"Two-thirds of a way there, the foreman estimates," the Prince replied. "Should be a week more before we are ready."

"Humph, so slow," the old man scoffed, causing Eldur to nearly curse out but managing to hold himself back in the end. "Light the fuse in six days; one day should be enough for the fires to spark, and two for us to be able to easily sneak out. Don't waste this precious opportunity, boy; even with the Blessings, you won't be able to escape my hands."

**

Sypher was currently tapping his foot against the wooden floor rhythmically, a dubious and deep look in his eyes, his right hand stroking his chin. He'd found a soulmate, yesterday, but was held back by his wretched subordinates. He felt a longing in his chest, a longing for a like-minded companion who understood, who wouldn't mock him and laugh at him and roll his eyes at him.

"Damn you, Thea!!"

"What did you say?!" a woman's voice startled him as he abruptly spun around, noticing the anger-faced, young woman standing near the entrance.

"I said, damn, you Thea is a spectacular beauty with unparalleled character!"

"Tsk," the woman merely clicked her tongue, ignoring him. "We settled the prisoners."

"Ah, ah, good job, good job. Did you--"

"We didn't investigate them," Thea interrupted, already knowing what he was going to ask. "Why are you so hellbent on learning who they are, anyway?"

"They? I don't give a shit about 'they'!" Sypher replied. "I only want to know who that handsome man was!"

"How do you know he's handsome?!! You literally didn't even see his face!"

"Humph, what do you know?! Look at me -- aren't I handsome? My soul-brother, naturally, would also be handsome! Perhaps even handsomer!"

"... if I hadn't fucked you myself, I'd really suspect you desired dicks as much as me..."

"Haii, I remember, when we were kids," Sypher said. "You used to be so shy and reserved... first time we held hands, you nearly passed out from embarrassment. And yet... look at you now. Aah, my heart aches."

"Your head will ache if you keep talking," Thea said somewhat angrily. "Anyway, what's the plan now? We've already broken Master's orders not to interfere unless we found Mael, so we may as well go out."

"... I feel it's close," Sypher's voice and expression turned serious suddenly, prompting Thea to also forgo her angry one. There was a reason that, despite his somewhat half-baked brain, Sypher was their leader. "All the signs point to this just being a crack-filled dam waiting to explode. Honestly, I feel doing anything more would be stepping over the line; though I've sensed some traces of Mael's aura, the best I can say is that he's somewhere within the Kingdom. While the chances that he's in the capital are high, they're not 100%. We can only take it one day at a time."

"Should we recall Seraph?" Thea asked.

"No," Sypher shook his head. "Even if she's bored out of her mind, it's good that we have eyes and ears on the inside."

"What about that crazy cult?" Thea probed further, feeling as though just sitting around and doing nothing would just be a massive waste of time. "Aren't they also a bit dangerous? Especially with that ridiculous declaration."

"No, they're fine," Sypher shook his head. "We can't intervene too much either, Thea. Master hasn't sent us here to save this Kingdom or its people."

"And yet... you went and saved some?"

"..."

"Tsk, bastard..." she mumbled lowly, pushing back a surge of blood into her cheeks.

"Mael will eventually come out," Sypher said. "And then so shall we. At that time, we'll have our hands so full we'll be wishing we were lazying around. Don't be so eager to go out and battle all the time. You can also stay in and battle quite frequently."

"Oh? Weren't you the one who said that 'holding ourselves back during the mission will keep us stronger'?"

"Did I say stronger? Because the only thing I'm feeling is anger..."

"Haii, fine, fine, let's go..."

*

Cain stared at a young girl with an odd look in his eyes; she had her arms wrapped around Anna defensively, with the latter smiling bitterly, and while the former glared angrily at Cain, nearly baring her teeth at him. She had just appeared abruptly at the tiny house Cain and others had rented on the outskirts of the capital, accusing Cain of kidnapping Anna.

"Your lover?" Cain quizzed.

"..."

"..."

"..."

"It's her sister, you moron," Senna slapped the back of his head and looked at the girl who seemed to be her age. "Can't you see? They both have basically identical noses, not to mention eye shape and the chin."

"Yes, yes, I most certainly can't see any of that," Cain said. "Anyway, that's your sister? The one you saved?"

"Yup." Anna replied, shellshocked herself.

"What's she doin' here?"

"No idea." Anna replied again.

"How'd she find us?" Cain probed further.

"No idea."

"Why's she glaring at me like that?"

"No clue."

"You just switched a word there; it's the same meaning."

"..."

"Ah, whatever, I'm starving," Cain said with a shrug. "Hey, little kid; can you cook? If you can, would you mind cooking something for your Sister and your future brother-in-law?"

"-!!!!" the little girl's eyes widened into saucers as Anna blushed gently while Senna simply sighed and shook her head. Would it kill you if you didn't mess with people FOR FIVE MINUTES?!

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