The Kaldreach Coalition was not expected to be back for years. The Slaver Isles were vast; Purging the Duskcrowns from their long-hidden and long-entrenched positions would not be fast or easy, even with a massive force.

  Lord Draevan would not be back for some time. It was therefore up to the two noble scions to ensure House Elathion continued its path to recovery, with the first step being to secure a steady income — starting with reclaiming the rich ores located between the port and Castle Elathion.

  [Rampage of the Feral]

  Within the narrow confines of House Elathion's ancient mines, Eri’s close-ranged daggers slashed through his opponents wonderfully. The demons fell one after another, the rocky footing proving no obstacle for the nimble Chosen even as he fought on steep slopes and wet ground.

  The demons were many, however. They had made their nest within the cold, flooded mines for a century, and their lack of self-preservation meant they flooded forth within the narrow passageway without rest.

  Fortunately, he did not fight alone.

  [Dancer of Frost, First Form: Crescent of Winter]

  Dulcina’s sabre slashed three times. Each swing produced a shockwave of razor ice that instantly reduced the incoming swarm to chunks of frostbitten meat. She landed by Eri’s side, and despite the narrow space, the two fought with perfect coordination — one born after months of confined combat.

  Soon, the nest was weakened. A squad of squires led by a knight moved in to finish the job. Armed with shrapnel grenades from Eri, they slaughtered with ruthless efficiency, and the nest was soon exterminated.

  “That’s another one down,” Eri grunted. “Captain Lauren’s squad should be finishing their assigned nest, as should Joarris's team with the other.”

  “According to the old layouts, we must be close to clearing the entire tunnel network by now. Nearly four months of doing this every week…” Dulcina huffed. “I had hoped Father would see the infested mines cleared before he left to give him some peace of mind. Alas.”

  “We still need to account for the new tunnels dug by the demons over the last century, and the flooded sections below are going to be far harder to clear,” Eri noted, somewhat apologetic. “I won’t say we are close to done, but we are getting there. Maybe another month or two. Thank the Goddess we had Joarris’s team helping us, or this might end up taking twice as long, considering how fast the demons spawn in here.”

  “House Dervaine has an interest in getting these mines operational,” Dulcina hummed.

  Eri grimaced.

  An ‘interest’... That’s one way of putting it.

  He pushed those unwanted thoughts away. The two of them made one final sweep, checking for hidden tunnels or nests, before retreating to the surface with the band of the squires. When they returned, Joarris’s group was already there.

  “Ho! The two are back. Took you time, didn’t you?” Bori teased. “Joarris might start getting jealous.”

  “I think my dear Fiancé can handle me spending some time with my little brother,” Dulcina mildly said. “So he should, at least.”

  Joarris coughed uncomfortably. “Lady Elathion, there’s no need to call me that. Any ‘union’ between us is years away. Our family’s arrangement is merely verbal thus far, and—”

  “Relax, Joarris. I was joking,” Dulcina smiled lightly.

  “... Ah.” Joarris looked away. “My apologies.”

  Raharim laughed. Even Alvine cracked a smile.

  Bori opened his mouth, probably to say something crude again, but then Julie stomped hard on his foot.

  “Ow! What did I do?!” he yelled, though Julie had already walked away, her footsteps angry. Alvine huffed, muttering something under her breath before following after Julie. Raharim chuckled before dragging the complaining Bori away.

  Eri looked over the group as they strode off, checking for wounds. “Looks like everyone made it out alright. Fewer wounds, too.”

  “The mines are familiar to us by now,” Joarris answered. “We face little difficulty, especially with the tools you gave us.”

  “Were the shrapnel grenades I gave you this time any good?” Eri asked.

  “Incredibly so,” the man nodded. “The lower explosive yield means we are less likely to trigger cave-ins. Easier on the ears as well, especially in the tighter caverns. The shrapnel slices through demon armour like paper, too. Alchemical metal?”

  Eri hummed consideringly. “Those were still experimental. I made them to compensate for the grenade’s lower blast yield, so I wasn’t sure how well they would perform. It’s still too expensive to mass-produce, but I’ll see what I can do. It would be good to make it part of our knight’s standard equipment.”

  “Our Houses shall become a force to reckon with under your innovations, Eri.” Joarris smiled good-naturedly. “I’m glad House Dervaine has you as a friend and ally. If you require resources and equipment, my family has some connections to the Dwarven engineering guilds in Kaldreach. If you would offer to show them your schematics, they might be willing to loan you their machines and expertise, maybe even a collaboration if—”

  “Is this your attempt to steal him from me, Joarris?” Dulcina asked. “I can already hear my baby brother salivating over the thought of getting his hands on Dwarven-grade explosives.”

  Eri blushed. His excitement had been too transparent. Joarris cleared his throat sheepishly.

  “I would never dream of such a thing, Lady Elathion,” the man hurriedly said.

  Dulcina hummed. “Why not? Is my brother not good enough for you?”

  “What? N-no, Lady Elathion, that’s not what I meant—”

  “And stop being so stiff and formal around me. You make a girl nervous,” she chided, eyes bright with mirth. “Just calling me ‘Dulcina’ will do.”

  “Of course, um, Lady Dulcina—”

  “Just Dulcina.”

  “... D-Dulcina.” Joarris muttered quietly, as if the word was difficult to say alone. His expression was uncharacteristically abashed.

  The Heiress nodded. “Better. Now, I will invite you back to the castle for dinner, as a small token of appreciation for your help today. I expect you to accept, since you have denied my invitation several times already. A girl might think you were trying to avoid her with such crude rejections. Is that clear?”

  “I… I understand, Lady El—, I mean, yes, Dulcina,” Joarris replied in resignation.

  Dulcina smiled, her lips curved with evident amusement, before she turned and walked away.

  Eri and Joarris stood there for a moment. After a while, the man sighed.

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  “I can’t tell if she’s serious or joking half the time,” he lamented.

  “Big Sis likes to tease others, even if she doesn’t seem like the type,” Eri said. “You’re just easy to fluster, ‘Big Brother’.”

  “I’d really rather you not call me that,” Joarris shuddered. “She’s better off with you.”

  “What, you don’t want to marry my sister?” Eri murmured.

  “She’s too young for me! It’s weird!” Joarris nervously muttered.

  “By that logic, I’m too young for her!”

  “You’ll grow!”

  “So will she!”

  Dulcina called out ahead of them. “Boys, you know I can still hear you, right?”

  The two of them immediately shut up.

  ~~~

  Many of Eri’s personal projects continued during his time at Castle Elathion.

  He kept up his usual routines: physical training at the crack of dawn, performing random Side Quests in Kaldreach in the morning and afternoon, and then tinkering with his tools and potions till the dead of night.

  Left with the resources of Castle Elathion at his disposal, the new Young Master made full use of his status. Merchant connections allowed his access to new goods, purchased without the need for wasting Heroism Points in the System Shop. The castle’s extensive library was browsed through daily with his Reading Skill, and Kalisa’s personal laboratory was expanded and refurbished with a bunch of shiny new equipment, to the Foxkin’s great joy.

  “Did I ever tell you that you are my most favourite person in the whole north?” Kalisa giggled as she tested out the new blades and scalpels — crafted with high-end demon components, making their sharpness unnaturally fine.

  “I think you mentioned that before,” Eri muttered as he examined his alchemical samples through his magnifying scope. “How’s your study of those three coming along?”

  Hanging from Kalisa’s ceiling was no longer just Gunther’s corpse. Three more had been added.

  The two assassins who died trying to kidnap Dulcina six months ago, as well as the unfortunate, mangled body of Maelric Halsworn, the Sapphire-Core Chosen who challenged Lord Draevan.

  “First two yielded interesting results… But Maelric’s corpse would be a lot easier to study if I had his head to talk to,” Kalisa sighed. “Can’t you order your twins to lend him to me for a day? Or better yet, get them to come down here and help with the research!”

  “They are not ‘my’ twins! Please don’t call them that!” Eri hissed. “Also, be reasonable. They don’t like labs… for good reasons.”

  Kalisa grumbled. “Damn shame. We have quite possibly the last two elven flesh weavers on the continent, and neither would help out with the study and dissection… Fine. Can I at least get the head?”

  “I don’t… think you really want it anymore.” Eri turned green a little. “It wasn’t pretty, last I checked.”

  “Was it still animated and sapient?”

  “Maybe?”

  “Then I still want it for my research.” Kalisa’s tail wagged. “It was great fun interrogating him six months ago… Your matron, Elen, had so many interesting ideas for torture. She was a blast to partner with. Any chance she could come work for Castle Elathion?”

  “... She has other obligations.”

  “Shame.” Kalisa tsked. “Well, regarding our research into the two assassins thus far… They are definitely half-bloods. We gave the initial reports to the coalition months ago, which helped pile more evidence to the Duskcrowns’ heretical research and garnered support for the expedition, but we never really figured out which Elder race was moulded into their physiology.”

  “Didn’t we just assume it was Fae?” Eri pointed out. “They are the most diverse of the Elderkin races. If we still can’t identify the foreign organs, then it’s most likely one in a thousand random subspecies of the Fair Folk never recorded in history.”

  “That’s boring, though. I have a different theory. We know from the religious texts that the Old Gods created twelve Elderkin races, and the Goddess created twelve Newborn races as a mirror with help from the Elves. We don’t have the complete records of all 24 sapient races on the continent, but we do know that all 24 species could interbreed to create half-blood offspring, even if it might require a lot of extra work and magic to make it happen.”

  “But that’s not the case here,” Eri countered. “We examined the corpses of Gunther and the two assassins already, and thus far, all the evidence points away from them being naturally conceived half-bloods. It’s almost undeniable that they were surgically created through the implantation of foreign organs.”

  It would be worrying if the former were true. That would mean there were living specimens of Giants and Fae roaming about somewhere on the Slaver Isles.

  “We know from Armael’s decoded paper that the Duskcrowns have been specifically kidnapping noble scions because of their bloodline. A quality exists within the heritage of Saints that improves the success rates at creating half-bloods,” Kalisa said. “We also know the Slaver Isles, where the Duskcrowns operate, are well-known for having the most advanced mind-control magic on the continent.”

  Eri cautiously nodded, waiting for Kalisa to continue.

  “The reasonable conclusion to make, therefore, is that the likes of Gunther and the two assassins were once young human nobles who the Duskcrowns kidnapped,” Kalisa explained. “They were then forcibly subjected to gruelling trials, successfully converted to living half-bloods, and afterwards had their traumatised memories forcefully moulded to suit the Duskcrowns’ needs.”

  Eri grimaced. “That’s the common consensus, yes. The Inquisitors of the Church and Investigators from the Empire agreed, as did most of the Coalition higher-ups. Why are you bringing it up now?

  “Well, for one… It’s not very sustainable, isn’t it? In fact, the entire plan seems borderline stupid,” Kalisa shrugged. “What happens when you run out of Elderkin organs? And consider the cost involved for the operation; it must be astronomical! Not to mention the specific need to kidnap and brainwash noble scions, pissing off half of the most powerful people on the continent in the process… All that, for just a few sub-par halfblood Chosens? They could have probably bought out entire mercenary companies for that investment.”

  Eri considered her words. “Most people believe that the Duskcrowns had stumbled upon a cache of well-preserved Elderkin bodies — perhaps a mass grave somewhere buried from an earlier age — and that afforded them the organs to pursue such twisted and expensive research.

  “But there is not a single precedent for mass graves of Elderkins of any species to ever be found in the Empire’s history,” Kalisa pointed out. “Even just a single, intact corpse alone is a miracle.”

  “Well, yes… but there’s just no other explanation. The only way for the Duskcrowns to have access to so much Elderkin material would be through a massive and well-preserved corpse site.”

  Kalisa hummed. “Is it? Don’t you think the foreign material in these bodies looks a little too… fresh, at times? Gunther’s blood is technically still alive, even when it’s been outside his body for months. His flesh doesn’t rot, either. Not like a human’s at all.”

  Eri shrugged. “The Giants were known for their pseudo-immortality. This isn’t anything noteworthy. The same goes for the other two corpses, if our assumption of their fae nature is correct.”

  “Perhaps I am not putting this well enough,” Kalisa exhaled through clenched teeth, clearly frustrated at herself. She took a moment to gather her thoughts. “Humour me for a second. If I were in charge of an organisation as vast, powerful, and influential as the Duskcrowns… Why would I pursue this course of research?”

  “What do you mean? Half-blood Chosens have abilities regular human Chosens do not possess.”

  “Well, yes, but to reiterate, the entire operation demands outrageous capital and effort just to get going. It would require a wealth of very obscure knowledge in surgery, history, and Elderkin anatomy. The infrastructure and equipment would need to be designed and manufactured from the ground up to tackle the complex biology of handling each Elderkin species. Its heretical nature would draw the ire of the entire continent, not to mention the logistics of procuring subjects. And to top it all off, the entire operation hinges on the supply of a severely limited and non-replenishable resource in Elderkin organs. All of it, just to create these half-blood combatants who have proven to be not much more effective than a squad of regular Chosens!”

  “I would heavily argue that Gunther was an extremely effective combatant,” Eri countered.

  “And the resources taken to produce one ‘Gunther’ could have likely bought the Duskcrowns an entire demi-company of Gold Cores! That’s not considering how many failures it took to ‘create’ him, or how unstable he was. I’m just trying to say, if the Duskcrowns already had all that wealth and power to fund an army of conventional Chosens, why would they waste their efforts pursuing this pyrrhic and unsustainable venture of creating an army of half-bloods? Like I said, it’s stupid!”

  Eri was silent.

  The answer… The answer is that they wouldn’t… Unless…

  Unless they had already discovered a reliable method of continuously producing half-blood Chosens before they even started funding their supposed ‘foolhardy’ operation.

  That meant, at the very least, having a limitless or infinitely replenishable source of Elderkin material.

  “I’m a little more worried for the Kaldreach Coalition now,” Eri admitted.

  “Eh, I’m sure they will be fine. Half-blood army or not, that Coalition holds the best Kaldreach has to offer. The Duskcrowns won’t stand a chance,” Kalisa happily assured him.

  ~~~

  Half a year later, Kaldreach would receive news that the Coalition had met their first open engagement against the Duskcrowns upon the seas of the Slaver Isles.

  The result was a complete defeat on the Coalition’s end.