Interlude: The Decaying Spring

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Ashrenne just couldn’t get a break, could she?

First, a young demon with amnesia picked a fight with a guard for abusing the law.

Then a sleep-deprived elf with frightening skills managed to piss off The Assassin’s Guild by quitting his job abruptly.

Then an overly charitable girl got caught breaking a fairly unreasonable law.

And now some freaky-looking boy with freaky powers was on the loose, probably causing some havoc somewhere.

To be honest, she never planned to establish any hidden organizations. It originally started as simple as renting a place for a homeless demon, followed by a lost elf, and then another lost girl. She might as well open up her own inn at this rate.

One day, after helping her tenants from their troubles with the law as usual, Ashrenne jokingly suggested her warehouse somehow became some sort of safe space for outcasts.

Her occupants apparently did not see that as a joke.

This and that happened next, and what originally started as a formal landlord-tenant relationship now became a leader looking after a small band of misfits called The Marching Embers, named after their impressive resilience, causing so much damn trouble striding in the name of justice.

Admittingly, it was pretty difficult, cleaning up after such a rowdy bunch all on her own. She definitely didn’t have to, but… he wouldn’t give up on them. He used to be just like those guys after all, all rowdy but so good-natured and selfless…

If only… Francis… was still here with her… What would he do?

Ashrenne quickly shook her head, snapped out of her thoughts, and continued through the streets. A deep sigh escaped her.

Not only was Haruma somewhere out there fighting The Infernal Sentinel, but Lora went missing too. Just what on Erudios did that girl get wrapped up in this time?

If she were her, the best place she’d most likely get leads would be… the local church.

Ashrenne paused in front of the open wrought iron gates and surveyed the view of the lofty entrance, decorated with trimmed, rosy bushes and angelic statues. The sky abruptly turned cloudy, and traces of magic gave her shivers.

She furrowed her brows and slithered a hand toward her scabbard.

Something was wrong here.

Carefully, she took a step.

She jolted and swiftly drew her blade, slicing away an arrow shooting at insanely high speed.

“What the?!” She took a step back, gawking as the angelic statues all began to move and face her, eyes flashing pure red and drawing their weapons.

Without warning, they all simultaneously swung their blades and fired their arrows.

A massive wave of fire spiraled out of Ashrenne’s wrists, engulfing her blade into a single, frolicking flame. She swung back and shot a giant streak of light, burning away the arrows and melting the statues in its path.

“Damn it! Hey! Is anyone there?!” Ashrenne shouted, hurriedly rushing into the churchyard and cutting down all the statues in her way. “What’s going on here?! Lora?! Senior Pastor?! Anyone?!”

She promptly kicked open the church’s entrance doors and rushed into the nave. She paused and took heavy breaths, gawking at the lifeless scene with only an anomaly greeting her at the opposite side of the room.

A giant, purple crevice, like a fissure through the very space itself, floated on top of the altar. As a former soldier in the war, this anomaly was all too familiar.

“A rift instance?” she muttered. “What the hell’s it doing here?”

She flinched as the statues behind her started catching up, rapidly growing in numbers. The fact that they became even more aggressive the closer she approached the crevice had to mean they were meant to guard it.

Drawing that conclusion, she promptly jumped inside, and space immediately warped around her. The air cracked and sizzled, the scene of the nave twisted and spiraled, and her mind grew numb and fuzzy until the transportation finished.

Next thing she knew, she landed back on her feet with a soft thud and looked up.

The nave, once golden and filled with sunlight, now transformed into a velvet red theme, basked in moonlight. It was as if she’d somehow walked into a totally different timeline, a time when this church used to worship Florathea before the war.

An ominous hunch brewed inside her.

She took a deep breath and marched on, approaching the giant, mosaic glass window with an image of a green-haired woman. Right past the glass, a few shadows moved around, slowly and silently. She narrowed her eyes and glared at it before swiftly slashing it down.

The glass melted and revealed a hidden tunnel, including a small group of familiar robed priests. They all turned around and faced her, eyes glazed red.

“No way, you can’t be serious with me…” Ashrenne gripped her sword. “What’s the matter with you guys?”

They responded with low growls and charged.

Ashrenne raised her blade and blocked the incoming strikes, still baffled. “Hey! What’s gotten into everyone?!” she hollered. “Snap out of it!”

She couldn’t hurt them. Corrupted or not, they were still the church’s staff.

Someone here had to be responsible for this.

Ashrenne kicked off a few priests and ignited her blade, repelling the rest away with just the heat alone. She swiftly rushed past them and continued straight on, scaring off more dazed priests with her flames along the way.

Unfortunately for her, that also meant gathering a large crowd behind her and chasing her tail, leaving her no other choice but to follow this creepy tunnel to wherever it led. She eventually found a wooden door at the end of the path and promptly kicked it down.

Total darkness. That was all that greeted her first.

She tried squinting and raising her brilliant sword like a torch, but no matter how bright it was, it was as if this very room could voraciously swallow any and all light.

All except for one: an intricate glass orb enshrouded in light green wisps. It ever so gently descended out of nowhere and started giggling in an awfully familiar soft voice.

“To think I’d meet one of the surviving frontline captains of Grovendale’s army,” said the orb. “I’m quite honored that we’d get to meet again, Captain Beaufort.”

“That voice…” She turned pale and widened her eyes in horror and confusion. “No, it can’t be. It’s you… Florathea! How are you still alive?!”

For a moment, the glass orb’s frolicking wisps expanded and shaped themself into a woman with wings, her eyes flashing bright blue.

“All life eventually returns to the earth, and from the earth, life begins anew,” said the orb. “You may have defeated me once, but that doesn’t mean I’ve been banished from the cycle of life.”

She gritted her teeth and brandished her flaming sword at her. “I knew your death was too good to be true,” she said. “You really just can’t give us a break, huh?”

“How hypocritical of you to say that when you all never granted me a moment of respite either.”

“What are you even—urgh?!”

An arrow whizzed by and grazed her arm. She grasped her wound and spun around, confronting an approaching horde of mind-controlled priests.

Her heart dropped when someone familiar stood out among them, the girl she’d been looking for this whole time. “L-Lora…?”

Unlike the others with crazed eyes, she stood idly around, calmly staring into the darkness as if fallen into a trance, like she had simply ended up here by peacefully sleepwalking.

“Not even in death did I get a chance to rest,” said the goddess, extending her arms. “I am even more convinced that this world needs to be completely washed away to truly remove all the blights invading our world.”

The orb brilliantly flashed the scene white, forcing Ashrenne to cover her face for a brief moment. When she could open her eyes again, the entire room was reconstructed into an underground arena.

She frantically looked around. “Where did you put Lora?!”

“Oh, relax. I’ve imprisoned her among the other failures.”

Dozens of chains rattled around the arena, pulling up several cages of other priests in a quiet trance, similarly to Lora. Ashrenne hurriedly rushed toward her cage first, but the chains quickly yanked her away, hiding her in the shadows.

She skidded to a halt and glared at the glass orb and the horde growing beneath her. “I see how it is,” she muttered. “You haven’t changed at all, you crazy nutcase.”

"I see you haven't lost your fighting spirit either," said the goddess. "Let's see if you're still as strong since the war."

Ashrenne cracked her neck and stared down at all the cultists surrounding her. “And I'll see how much your power came back with you from the grave! Bring it on, all of you!”