Chapter 8: Bougainvillea Cromwell

"Seek… and destroy… Bougainvillea Cromwell. That's all it says?"

Elluin the elf archer asked her husband. 

The shaky wagon on the forest dirt road made her unwell. She much prefers riding horses or walking on stable ground to sitting on a crammed wagon, tumbling around like a sack of potatoes. Hence the annoyed expression on her face.

And the fact that the Bureau sent an official mission after her and Harrison while they were on hiatus made it so much worse.

"Yep." Harrison clicked his tongue and sighed "That's all there is to the message. The familiar owl just went 'poof' after I took the letter."

"Well, you know how it is…"

The human warrior took a match from his pouch and lit the piece of paper on fire and scattered the ash out the small window of the carriage. 

Unlike his wife, Harrison was much more familiar with the way the Bureau operated. He had just sent his daily update to his district supervisor through the wagon driver, prior to traveling to a small village called Bythera. 

He had revealed little information on the raid of the occult town Tytos, but the top ring of the Bureau had caught onto the opportunity to take down a high priority target, who most likely had ties with the Eternalists.

"Seek and destroy" missions were usually carried out by a few formations. 

The most common team was a pillar of the middle ring, accompanied by five or more "pawns'' in the bottom ring of the Bureau. Codenamed "Spearhead".

Codename "Vanguard" was a much rarer formation - consisting of the whole middle ring, including 12 pillars and 12 supervisors. This formation was only used once in the battle of Marlin, when the Bureau had to forcefully dissolve a terrorist organization threatening the crown of Gawon at the time.

Harrison and Elluin had taken part in such missions as "pawns" before, and they were always in danger of losing their lives. 

This time, as both of them were pillars of the ring, the Bureau seemed to have deemed them enough to carry out the mission without any other pawns.

"Cromwell." Lissa the halfling pondered, she stopped polishing her dirge and retrieved a small notebook inside her bag. 

Her eyes focused and gave out a look as if she had figured something out.

The halfling girl flipped through the pages before exclaiming "Aha! I know I've heard that name before! Bougainvillea Cromwell, a trivial advisor of prince Ericson of Todoryre!"

"How'd you come to know this man, Lissa?" Roselie tilted her head slightly

"The short period of time I worked as Lady Murnyethera's assistant, I picked up on a few things. This Cromwell guy, the Lady was suspicious of his ties to the vampire lords in the region of Gawon. She said that he helped a few thralls and lesser vampires to cross the border into Todoryre's region."

"Well well… having ties to the vampires AND the Eternalists? Sounds like a man who wishes to be immortal to me." Harrison snorted

Lissa and Roselie instantly looked over at the human warrior as their realization kicked in: Indeed, both the vampires and the Eternalists dealt with death-defying rituals and lifespan extensions. 

Elluin on the other hand, was not impressed. 

Over the years working as a pawn with Harrison, she had encountered multiple live-loving individuals: old hags with their foul concoctions brewed from elves' remains, wizards becoming liches to continue their generation-long studies, vampires high on human blood rampaging around the countryside… She had seen them all.

"Isn't that bad?" Roselie exclaimed "Someone who follows the Eternalists has infiltrated the prince's palace… who knows what foul plans this man has?"

The cleric girl was worried that the cult might take over the whole principality of Todoryre - which was a real threat. 

There were records of cults growing too powerful, their followers outnumbered those of the gods and their evergrowing connections procured fearsome magic weapons the ordinary army could never obtain. 

But most cults could only topple at most a few nations before their snake heads were cut down by a joined army of the remaining countries.

And without leaders, the remnants of the cult would die out quickly.

"That is true. And dare I say… very concerning" Elluin brows furled, her ears pressed against her head "We must find clear evidence in the town of his traitorous acts. When we do, we can ask the prince's King, King Lionel of Mankon, for permission to remove the advisor."

"That is a sound plan. That is our secondary objective coming into Tytos." Harrison pulled out his three throwing axes, meticulously oiled each blade before sharpening the edge with a whetstone. "We must locate Tommy, along with any other captives and bring them to safety. There is no doubt that these cultists are using some sort of ritual or magic to torment these poor souls and extend their life from it."

Roselie nodded to Harrison as he once again mentioned her brother.

"Do not hold back." The elf archer restrung her longbow. 

The magic longbow, though it went through rigorous usage over the years, still kept its pristine condition - a proof of the craftsmanship of Visha, the bowmaker of the elven village Nitiunthon. "These cultists will do whatever it takes to survive, and they will not think twice before cutting our neck. Lissa, Roselie, it will do well for both of you to remember this."

The two girls gingerly nodded. The nerve had now caught up to the halfling, so she continued to polish her dirge. In contrast, the cleric girl closed her eyes and prayed to her goddess.

The black wagon traversed for half an hour more before the sound of flowing water notified the party of their location. A voice came from the front of the wagon: the driver slowed the horses down and called out to the party:

"We've just crossed the Chytria stream and are heading towards Bythera. I can see a heavily armored army to our right, heading the same way as ours. What should we do, Madam Silverwind, Master Gondorbrand?"

The unmistakable sound of hooves and marching men.

A menacing army, led by a fearsome captain on horseback, advanced over a shallow part of the river fork.

They were armed to the teeth, swords and shields, expensive crossbows and halberts.

An open roof wagon filled with crates and barrels of what seemed to be explosives - Even Roselie was impressed by the amount. 

The cleric girl had seen the dwarves at Krummel Marora using dynamites and black powder bombs to destroy even the sturdiest stone to find precious metal. With the amount the army was carrying, it wouldn't be surprising to Roselie that they intended to erase the town from the map.

And they were marching under a beautiful blue flag, in the middle, a symbol so familiar to our adventurers in the wagon.

A road leading to a rising sun.

The church of Lathander sent their conquest force.

"This should have happened way earlier, dare I say…" Elluin frowned, but she was clearly relieved from her relaxed shoulders. "But at least we know the church got our back."

"That paladin captain… I… I think I know him!" Roselie chirped "I've heard about the triumphant conquest army of the Lathander church of Todoryre before… led by a paladin whose name shall not be learnt by anyone but his parents and his god, under his oath he serves the Cycle, shrouded in armor made of blue metal and gold, O' the army of the Watcher, all ride behind him, he whose name unknown yet known."

"Wow… What's that song?" Elluin giggled when the cleric girl suddenly sang a short limerick. The elf archer thought the cleric had a great voice.

"It's a song the apprentice clerics in Niliphy used to sing to tease the squires."

"That's great. That army should have little to no problem handling a few hundred cultists." Harrison eyed the impressive weaponries the army packed as he sheathed his axes. "We can focus on saving captives."

It was at that moment, a strange set of hooves approached their wagon from the left. Harrison and Lissa immediately grabbed their weapons, yet the elf archer held them back in their seats.

"This sound… this is not a normal horse you're hearing." Elluin smiled confidently "Don't you hear? Its steps are so light, but with the forces of a warhorse of Mosia, it won't wear any harness or saddle, and only allows those who it deemed worthy to ride it. This is an elven horse!"

The elf archer excitedly explained. It had been years since she'd heard the sound of the majestic animal again.

Broke through the forest treeline, Ilrune Mirazorwyn approached the speeding wagon with ease. He was riding a pure silver horse, its muscle bulge under its beautifully groomed coat. Its beady, pure black eyes were ever-watching for danger ahead.

The guild representative was also donning respectable elven-made armor, of gold and silver. It seemed that he was going to join the party on the raid of the occult town.

"Greetings, adventurers! I bring news from the crown of Todoryre! Your Royal Highness, Prince Ericson, has ordered a sizable army of hundred to join us today!"

The elven horse had no problem keeping up with the three-horse wagon while keeping its rider steady for conversation.

"And the Guildhall of Todoryre also brought adventurers! Both have got into position at the northern flanks of Tytos."

"That's great news, master Ilrune." Elluin said "On our right, can you see the church's army?"

"Oh yes! The Lathander church also sent their finest men. We are cutting these cultists down, like harmful weeds, the roots must wither before the plant is exterminated. Let us take care of the runts, brave adventurers, please assume the responsibility of rescuing the prisoners, undoubtedly caged and chained in that foul town."

"We intended to." Harrison replied

"Good to hear, friends. Then, let us take down these evil remnants!"

===

Breaking through the forest, the wagon of our adventurers reached a desecrated looking town. Disembarked, the wagon fled through the treeline and awaited the news of victory or defeat.

It seemed that their arrival also signaled the beginning of the raid, as the paladin cladded in blue and gold started to lead his army into the small town, his flag still raised high.

A loud blow horn echoed throughout the empty town, followed by footsteps and hooves and wheels.

"Let's go in. Weapons out and peel your eyes for ambush." Elluin said. 

The party joined the holy conquest army into the town, Harrison led charge, followed by Lissa and Roselie, and Elluin watched their backs with her bow drawn taut.

Yet…

The town seemed dead.

There were no signs of any cultists anywhere.

The houses seemed abandoned and left to rot, vines and moss had taken over most of the walls.

But their scouts did not lie. Tytos was truly an occult town.

For when they reached the town center, they saw it.

Cultists have gathered all around the center, barricades and shields raised, with spike walls and defensive structures scattered around the square. No less than fifty men, women, of all races surrounded a grotesque structure in the middle. A tall pillar, seemingly made of wood slathered in dark unknown substance, raised high. And on it were prisoners, unconscious and tied tightly.

Under the pillar was dried hay, stacks and stacks of hay.

The adventurers gasped.

The cultists have constructed a pyre. An execution construction. The substance on the pillar undoubtedly was oil.

"Welcome! Welcome, brave warriors!" The cultist standing next to the pillar spoke, he held a torch high, showing to the raiders that he was holding the lives of the prisoners on the pillar in his palm.. His voice was magically projected and echoed throughout the seemingly empty village. 

Seemingly.

Immediately, cultists appeared out of thin air, standing in the ranks of the raiding army. Their weapons drawn, and their faces worn a wretched expression.

It was a trap all along…

It was not that the perceptive individuals were careless and missed the cultists. Elluin made sure to stay extra focused to detect invisible enemies.

For it was impossible for man to be completely invisible, with spell or not. 

Weaker, lesser invisibility granting spells will leave a faint disturbance in the air that the experienced can detect. 

Higher level spells can eliminate most of this glimmer, but there was other clear evidence of someone invisible nearby. Most humanoids' eyes take in waves of light or heat to perceive the world around them, and to be able to do this, they must not be completely invisible. 

It was necessary for the irises of invisible men to physically manifest for them to see the world. Else, they would see nothing, and nothing would see them.

The elf archer, along with other much more experienced warriors in the church's army, had focused on detecting a pair of irises, no larger than two dots in the air, to catch invisible units.

Yet… they must have been using unknown rituals to completely erase them from existence, or they were teleported in.

Whatever the cultists used, they successfully held every man in the raiding army hostage.

The cultist with the torch laughed out loud, it seemed that he was satisfied with their presentation. 

The party was surrounded by three cultists with spears, their tips slathered in poison , all seemed ready to thrust and kill any of them. Elluin turned her back to the cleric and the halfling, shielding them from the kobold cultist.

"It was easy! TOO EASY!" The cultist cackled "You fools better throw your weapons down onto the ground, or these pigs will be cooked alive!"

He dangled the torch dangerously close to the hay pile.

What do we do now…

Elluin thought to herself as she glared at the grinning kobold holding the spearhead next to her neck.

She did not want to disarm herself by throwing her bow to the ground. She did not know if she could evade the spear thrust that close to her neck.

She did not know what to do. 

"DISARM YOURSELVES, NOW! YOU PIGS! KNEEL BEFORE US!" 

The cultist once again threatened to burn the prisoners by raising his torch to a female elf captive's foot and burning it. The elf cried out in pain, her scream squeezed the heart of the warriors in the rank of raiders.

Some threw their swords to the ground.

Some held their hands over their heads.

Elluin threw her bow and arrow at the feet of the kobold before her. It snickered and stepped on her Anór. 

All hope was lost.

The cultists were in complete control.

The raiding army had so many men, so many weapons. Yet none were willing to trade the lives of the prisoners they were supposed to rescue.

And now, all of the raiders will die…

"YOU!!! BASTARD ON THE HORSE!!! THROW YOUR SWORD TO THE GROUND!"

The cultist screamed out.

All eyes went to the recipient of the scolding.

The paladin captain still sat on his horse, his sword unsheathed and casually held on his neck armor.

"No. I can not do that." He nonchalantly replied "If I don't hold my sword, how can I cut your neck?"

Time seemed to slow down right after he spoke, but not from the effect of a spell or an act of god. It was caused by multiple instances of events happening at the same time overwhelming everyone's ability to process information. 

A loud explosion roared somewhere outside the town, stealing the attention of everyone including the cultists.

In an instant, Elluin understood what happened. A distraction… The church's army had expected this hostage situation to happen and brought a wagon of explosives with them.

Elluin dove to the ground, using her entire body to slam into the kobold and forcing it to jump back. She grabbed her longbow and showed her back to the cultist kobold, because she trusted her party. And her trust was not misplaced.

Three pure white bolts of light shot out from Roselie's staff and accurately slammed into the hands of the cultist holding their party hostage with spears, effectively disarming them for a second as they reeled from the attack.

The bolts left behind a pulsing light, causing the confused cultists to divert their attention to their hands.

Elluin pulled her longbow and aimed it at the pyre. Yet she waited, for she knew the paladin captain must have a plan to take the torch-holding cultist down and save the hostages.

The town center was blocked completely with spikes and wooden walls. He can not run straight into the frey, it would take too much time. He did not seem to know how to fly either.

So what could he do?

Elluin and the torch-holding cultist shared the same thought.

And suddenly, the shining blue and gold armor of the captain paladin suddenly and silently appeared behind the cultist, covered in a thin layer of mist. He had completely disappeared from horseback, and somehow teleported to the middle of the town square, among the ranks of the cultists.

The elf archer's lips curled into a smirk as she released her two arrows from the longbow. The first one perfectly pierced the skull of the cultist, and the second, impressively curved away from the first's trajectory and pierced the torch the cultist was holding, flinging it to the back of the pyre safely.

The paladin captain swung his sword into a beautiful arc, chopping the two cultists rushing him into two right at the middle of their torsos. Yet his sword did not stop there, the arc continued through the wooden pillar, cleanly cutting it like a hot knife through butter. He then shouldered the pillar and lifted it up with one arm: a feat of strength not anyone can casually show off. 

The wooden pillar was thicker than the diameter of a wine barrel, and there were multiple hostages bound onto it.

It should have been incredibly heavy.

Within two seconds, the leader of the church's army had successfully defused the entire hostage situation and made a distraction so effective that every raider had a chance to fight. 

Battlecries roared out. Metal crashed into metal, blades clashed into blades.

Harrison flung two of his axes out, one on each hand and they perfectly found their purchase on the scalp of the two cultists. Lissa rushed towards the one in front of her and rammed her dirge into the chest of the human cultist with one hand, the other held the spear away with an iron grip.

Without wasting a single second, the party broke into a sprint towards the middle. A cleric of the church flung a wand and casted a ball of fiery flame into the barricade in front of them and blew the way clear for the adventurers to advance. 

Harrison flung his last throwing axe onto a cultist, but his tower shield easily deflected the weapon. The warrior rushed forward and forcefully kicked the shield as his left hand reached for the handle of the giant greataxe on his back, covered by his cape.

With the shield tower as a fulcrum, Harrison lifted his entire body up with a minor technique (yet still so very impressive from the weight of his armor). 

He traced a perfect crescent with the greataxe and rammed the entire blade into the cultist's back.

  He then put force into his right leg to push his body over the air, and with the axe lodged in the cultist, Harrison flung himself behind the poor fool before dislodging the axe and took his head off with one swift blow.

Elluin now had a much easier time controlling the battlefield to her heart's content. Arrow after arrow, the elf archer only aimed for the heads of the cult members. 

She focused on thinning the horde around the paladin captain so as to create a clear path for him to bring the pillar to safety. 

The adventurers and the city soldiers also broke through the barrier to the north and overwhelmed most of the cultists, who were restraining them mere moments before. 

Lissa and Roselie immediately approached the paladin captain, and only exchanging nods and eye contact, both of them took position behind his back. Roselie once again cast forth three light bolts and tagged the wretched cultists before allowing Lissa to let loose a thunderous bolt, piercing all three. The bright hot lighting bolt violently contracted the muscles of the cultists, so violent that it snapped bones and ribs. 

But the cultists did not feel pain, for they were already dead from the initial shock. 

Smoke emanated from their burnt bodies as they slumped onto the ground.

After a few more minutes, it was clear that the town of Tytos was cleansed of the existence of cultists of the Eternalists. Under direct order of the guild and the church, as well as a decree from the prince of Todoryre himself, any weapon-baring cultist were to be executed.

The party now gathered around the paladin captain himself, who had lowered the wooden pillar drenched in oil. 

As he did, he revealed a deep cut on his clavicle, which was quickly attended to by the numerous clerics and paladins around. Harrison and Elluin started to cut off the prisoners when Roselie let out a loud squeak. She crouched down and cut off the rope holding a slender body near the top of the pillar.

"Tommy! Tom! It's me! It's your sister, Rosamund! Please… please open your eyes!"

The party immediately closed up on their companion, with a worried look on their face. 

What if Roselie's brother is already gone? 

They all asked themselves. 

Harrison kneeled down next to Roselie, as she frantically (and unfortunately a little violently) checked her brother's body for injuries. He removed his leather glove and checked Tommy's pulse and sighed heavily with a great sense of relief washing over him.

"We have a pulse!" Harrison shouted "Tommy's alive! Thank the gods!"

Elluin and Lissa hugged each other and jumped with joy.

All was not lost. The raiding operation actually yielded good news.

The cleric girl embraced her brother tenderly, as the adventurers of Todoryre cheered far behind them for a job well done.

The paladin captain smiled observing the four adventurers who fought beside him - it was clear that they fought for one of the kidnapped victims, but nonetheless, they fought bravely. 

He recognized the staff the cleric girl was carrying - the well-endorsed staff of an archdeacon. She was ranked higher than any of the clerics fighting under him, and she was a traveling cleric no less.

He thought of inviting her to his division, yet he knew that he would only waste his time. He sighed as the human warrior, the elf archer and the halfling girl all huddled together and hugged the cleric. 

This adventuring party won't disband any time soon. But well, the paladin captain was always patient, he would find some occasion to ask this party out for a meal. 

He found them interesting and quite capable.

"Sir! Our scouts found these from one of the houses!" The young paladin approached him and handed a stack of letters to him.

"Hmm these are…"

A voice suddenly spoke next to his shoulder. The human warrior cladded in darkened clothing, he approached the paladin captain so quickly, yet he made no sound at all.

"Are any of these addressed to, or from Bougainvillea Cromwell?" The human warrior asked

It was quite rude to look over people's shoulders, and the human warrior would have gotten a good scolding from the captain if he was in his division, but the paladin captain decided to humble the warrior.

And without fail, most of the letter had mention of the named individual.

How interesting…

The paladin captain thought. It seemed that the adventuring party in front of him was much more interesting than what he had previously thought.

He should, no, he absolutely needs to invite them to dinner sometimes.

===

Cromwell walked the halls of the Palace of the Princes with a confident stride, his velvet tunic and gaudy fur cape made a distinct sound as he intentionally flailed them in the most pretentious way imaginable. 

He had ten rings in total, one on each finger, all made of precious metals and different kinds of gems. A gold and ruby ring on his left index finger, a silver and emerald one on his right thumb, a platinum and diamond one on his right middle finger, amongst others. 

Cromwell also always wore at least two necklaces from his ginormous collection. 

Today, however, he was in a bad mood, so he made an exception and only wore his favorite: A long praying bead made of black gem. 

He had to cut the head of a traveling monk himself to retrieve the beads: a memory he was so fond of that he would think of at least once a week. 

The feeling of the blade cutting through flesh, the way the neck bone gradually snapped away from his repeated cuts, the blood spewing, the tendons snapping, the high pitched sound of the destroyed airway and the way the monk slumped over as his head rolled on the dirt road. 

Of course Cromwell would never remember the ten elite guards he had holding the monk down in the prostrate position, he never gave a second thought before ordering the monk's arms cut off. 

Why should he? 

It was as if he had hypnotized himself and reformed his memory of how he bested the monk's martial art and executed him himself.

He was a man who valued one's net worth as strength. He was a man who believed in the eternal enrichment of his own hoard. 

He respected and was jealous of the dragons, who could live thousands and thousands of years and gather up their hoard of treasures and knowledge. 

Cromwell did not care much for knowledge, nothing gold couldn't buy. But he was stuck playing the role of prince Ericson's trivial advisor for now, soon he would take over Todoryre, and show the world his greatness. 

Cromwell walked through the stone doors to his room, not even batting an eye to the two guards opening the doors for him. 

His time was more important than that. Even though the prince had just rudely dismissed Cromwell this morning and disregarded the time Cromwell wasted walking to the throne room. That made Cromwell mad. 

Yet, if he had paid just a slight bit of attention to the guards, he might have noticed that they were not the usual guards of the Palace of the Prince. 

Their armors showed the coat of arms of the Mankon kingdom. 

And as Cromwell entered his private quarter, the guards closed the door and placed the wooden barricade over it, barring any escape attempt of those inside.

Cromwell thought of how he would torture prince Ericson when he take over the palace. 

Maybe I'll replace one of his eyes with a pocket watch… yes… that will teach him to respect people's time. Ooh… I might just keep him alive and hang him above the throne! A masterpiece of art! 

Cromwell was sure that the takeover would be easy: he had tricked the prince in agreeing to send troops to the cultists' town, where most of the soldiers will be turned into life-prolonging potions. 

Fortune had finally smiled at him, it was about time really. The guild also foolishly recruited a gaggle of adventurers to join the city's troops, they will also be turned into the life elixir the cult and Cromwell so craved. 

From there, Cromwell just had to use the elixir as a lever to gather more powerful entities to his side and topple the reign of the Phillips family on both the kingdom of Mankon and the principality of Todoryre.

It was easy… too easy. 

Cromwell sat down and unlocked a strongbox on his desk with a key hidden in his sleeve. The box was delivered early this morning by one of his rats in the city - smuggled in from the cult themselves. Inside was a scroll and a crystal decanter holding a deep red liquid.

Cromwell instinctively smirked.

He did not expect the cult to send him the potion as soon as they were successful. 

Cromwell's nature made him suspicious of anyone other than himself - he thought that he had to resort to violence to pry the elixirs from the cultists.

But this is okay too. He thought.

The cultists had shown great obedience towards him, so he might keep them alive for a bit longer and amuse their stupid evil gods they so revered to. 

Cromwell could not wait any longer. He skipped the scroll entirely - he knew that the cultists would ramble and complain to force him to give them more freedom and resources. That he would deal with later. For now…

The trivial advisor of the Palace of the Prince reached into the strongbox and carefully lifted the decanter up. Its weight made him weirdly satisfied. Cromwell opened the stopper, flung it to the side and took a sniff.

Disgustingly sweet.

Another smirk grew on Cromwell's lips.

He poured the crimson liquid into a glass chalice, carefully, to the very last drop. He was not going to waste any immortality now, was he?

Like a thirsty tiger, Cromwell greedily gulped down the elixir. He licked the chalice over and over, to make sure that he had consumed everything.

The elixir tasted like… peach? And the after taste was terrible: a bitter and acrid sensation lingered in Cromwell's mouth after he had swallowed the very last drop of the potion. 

The eastern region of Todoryre was famous for its giant peaches, and grew a plenty in plantations, these peaches brought a worthy amount of gold to the exporting market of Todoryre. 

As a trivial advisor in the palace, Cromwell had his fair share of peaches: so sweet and juicy, the fruit's flesh so tender and aromatic.

Cromwell's lips turned pale, he reached for his chest and throat.

He could not breathe. His stomach churned, his head started to hurt so bad, he started to hallucinate. He saw the monk he beheaded for the trinket he so desired appeared before him. The monk laughed out loud and mocked his ragged state.

Sweats beaded out on his back and his forehead as his body seized. 

Cromwell fell out of his chair and clawed at his throat, his mouth foamed and traces of the red elixir came back out.

Cromwell could not think: the pounding headache was too much for him. He saw the monk repeatedly swinging the sword - the same sword Cromwell had used to behead him, into his own head. 

Cromwell raised both of his hands as he lost consciousness, the last thing he saw was two silhouettes. Was it the cultist leader and the vampire lord he had plotted his plan with? 

He wanted to scream out for help, but he couldn't even muster a single strain of strength.

"Foolish. This is the mastermind behind the cultists? So careless… dare I say."

"Job's done, I guess. This thing takes effect so quickly it's scary."

The elf archer and the human warrior stood on the side of the now deceased Bougainvillea Cromwell. 

They have successfully carried out the seek and destroy mission given to them by the Bureau while simultaneously ridded the region of Todoryre a dangerous man. 

They have also notified King Lionel of Mankon for backup, but it seemed to have been unnecessary.

"I'm glad Roselie didn't ask to come with us." Harrison sighed, crouching down and picking the ex-advisor's body up to sit him back nicely on his chair "I thought… she would exact her revenge, you know, for her parents."

"C'mon honey…" Elluin gently slapped Harrison's shoulder "You know her better than that… She was not that type, never have been. Moreover… I believe she would take spending more time with her brother over coming to Todoryre and kill this worthless piece of art."

It was at that exact moment when a bell sound took both of the investigators' attention. A long and deep sound of the harbormaster's office bell, all the way to the port of Todoryre.

"What's that?" The elf archer frowned, she almost thought a miscommunication happened and the palace mistook them for real assassins. Yet, it seemed that the guards from Mankon were still holding their post outside the ex-advisor's quarter.

"Tsunami? No… this pacing… this… makes no sense…" Harrison leaned onto the window frame as he observed the port from afar.

"What are they signaling?"

"Pirates."

Harrison simply replied with an uncertain voice. He thought he had misheard the bell sequence, yet after another while, he was sure that he was right. Four short rings of bell followed by two longer rings. Pirates.

"Pirates? On the mainland?" Elluin let out a weird sound indicating her disbelief

"Look! On the horizon, to the left of the lighthouse!" Harrison pointed to the deep orange sky above a silver-glimmered sea.

A dark figure of a vessel gradually grew larger, and closer by the minute.

It was wholly painted red: its hull, its masts and its deck.

Three white sails filled with wind propelled the vessel forward with formidable speed, although on the window sill where they were, they couldn't determine its speed.

The crimson ship flew no flag, yet it was plenty clear that its reputation preceded it. Most ports in the world recorded and gave out precautions to all vessels about note-worthy pirates and dangerous waters.

And the crimson appearance of the vessel heading for Todoryre port was so infamous that even Harrison knew its name: The Vermillion Vulture.

"Wait… they're raising a… flag!" Elluin pointed out with her elven eyes. The blinding orange light from the sun set disallowed Harrison from seeing anything other than a black silhouette. "A white flag? They're surrendering!"

"Honey… I think we should integrate ourselves into the crowd at the port."

The human warrior suggested as he leapt out onto the roof. His spouse agreed.