Roland

As the day ended they relsihe those two demons won't be a good fit the spear hell hound was good but they already had very good fighters already one rush Ivon brought also said won't work.

You have to be kidding me. Oton said tired. Why is getting member in Gluttony so hard, we didn't have so much problems in the other rings

Charlomaine listened intently to Oton's frustration, understanding the challenges they faced in Gluttony were unlike any they had encountered before. The realm's allure of excess and indulgence made it difficult to find individuals whose motivations aligned with their noble cause. He sighed softly, contemplating their next steps carefully.

"I know it's been tough," Charlomaine replied, his voice calm yet resolute. "Gluttony tests not only our skills in battle but also our ability to discern true allies from those swayed by fleeting desires."

Oliver, ever the strategist, stepped forward, adjusting his glasses thoughtfully. "Perhaps we need to approach this differently," he suggested. "Instead of seeking fighters, we should look for those who possess resilience and a steadfast determination to rise above the temptations of Gluttony."

Gerin nodded in agreement, his eyes gleaming with newfound determination. "We need individuals who understand the value of camaraderie and purpose," he added. "Someone who sees beyond the immediate gratifications this realm offers."

Astolfo, leaning against a nearby tree with a thoughtful expression, chimed in, "Maybe we should focus on those who seek more than just pleasure. Someone with a longing for adventure or a desire to make a lasting impact."

Charlomaine nodded thoughtfully, considering their perspectives. "You're right," he acknowledged, a spark of optimism igniting within him. "Let's look for those who yearn for something greater than what Gluttony promises. Someone who embodies strength of character and a willingness to defy expectations."

With renewed determination, Charlomaine and his knights ventured back into the vibrant streets of Gluttony, their search guided by a newfound clarity of purpose. They sought individuals whose hearts resonated with courage and resilience, individuals who could withstand the allure of excess and embrace the ideals they championed.

As they wandered through the bustling festivities once more, their eyes keenly scanning the crowds, they spotted a lone figure standing at the outskirts of a lavish banquet. The demon, clad in simple attire yet exuding an air of quiet resolve, caught Charlomaine's attention.

Approaching cautiously yet with a sense of hope, Charlomaine addressed the demon, "Greetings. I am Charlomaine, Prince of Hell, on a quest to assemble a fellowship to bring hope and change to these realms. Might you be willing to join us?"

The demon regarded Charlomaine with a mix of curiosity and skepticism, his gaze unwavering. "Why should I join your cause?" he asked, his voice steady despite the chaos surrounding them.

Charlomaine spoke earnestly, his words infused with conviction. "Because we seek not only to challenge the status quo of Hell but to forge a path towards a brighter future," he explained. "We believe in camaraderie, purpose, and the strength that comes from unity. Together, we can make a difference."

The demon considered Charlomaine's words carefully, weighing them against the allure of the banquet behind him. After a moment of contemplation, he nodded slowly. "Very well," he replied, a hint of determination in his voice. "I will join you, for I too seek meaning beyond the indulgences of Gluttony."

As then the hellhound just grabbed Charlomaine bag of souls. Charlomaine's heart raced as the hell hound darted away with his bag of souls, triggering a surge of urgency among his companions. Astolfo, ever quick-witted, immediately summoned his hippogriff, a majestic creature with wings that beat the air in powerful strokes. The others swiftly followed suit, each unleashing their own unique abilities to give chase.

The clock tower loomed in the distance, its imposing presence marking a critical point in their pursuit. Charlomaine's mind flashed with memories of Roland, the legendary knight whose tales often spoke of similar trials and tests of bravery. Despite the chaotic scene unfolding before him, he maintained his composure, drawing strength from the echoes of past valor.

Astolfo's hippogriff soared ahead, closing the gap between them and the thieving hell hound. Oton, with his agility honed from countless battles, moved with precision through the crowded streets, expertly navigating obstacles in pursuit of their target. Oliver, his mind sharp as ever, strategized their moves, guiding the group with tactical precision.

As they drew nearer to the clock tower, Charlomaine noticed something peculiar—the hell hound's fur was a vivid yellow, a stark contrast to the typical shades found among demons of Gluttony. This anomaly sparked a flicker of recognition in Charlomaine's memory, a faint echo of significance tied to this particular demon.

Bolstered by a surge of determination, Charlomaine summoned forth the essence of his inherited memories, channeling Roland's spirit of valor and righteous pursuit. With each stride, he closed the distance between himself and the fleeing hell hound, his resolve unwavering despite the chaos of Gluttony swirling around them.

Ahead, Astolfo and the hippogriff made a decisive move, swooping down in a graceful arc to intercept the hell hound. With a deft maneuver, Astolfo leaped from the hippogriff's back, landing squarely in the path of the thieving demon. His presence alone halted the hell hound in its tracks, forcing it to confront the consequences of its reckless theft.

Charlomaine and the others converged swiftly, surrounding the hell hound with a united front. Ivon and Engelier, their magical prowess intertwined, created a barrier of arcane energy that prevented any attempt at escape. Gerier, Gerin, and Berengier stood poised with weapons drawn, ready to intervene should the situation escalate.

"Return what you've taken," Charlomaine commanded firmly, his voice carrying the weight of authority forged through trials of leadership in Hell. "We seek no further conflict, but we will not tolerate theft in our midst."

The hell hound, cowed by the collective strength and resolve of Charlomaine and his knights, hesitated briefly before relinquishing the bag of souls. With a resigned nod, it handed over the stolen goods, its yellow fur bristling in a mixture of shame and defiance.

As Charlomaine reclaimed the bag of souls, a sense of relief washed over him. Despite the initial setback, their resolve remained unshaken, and their bond as a fellowship grew stronger in the face of adversity. Together, they had proven their mettle in the heart of Gluttony, forging a path of honor and unity amidst the temptations and chaos that surrounded them.

With the crisis averted, Charlomaine and his knights stood together beneath the looming clock tower, their spirits lifted by their shared victory. They exchanged a silent glance of understanding and determination, knowing that their journey through Hell had only just begun. As they prepared to depart, guided by the echoes of legends past and the promise of a brighter future, Charlomaine couldn't help but feel a renewed sense of purpose in their quest to bring hope and change to these infernal realms.

So why you did this. Charlomaine said looking at him. Tell us

Fuck you. The hell hound said looking at him. You royal never didn't anything for us so I just took what I need for me and my sister to survive

Charlomaine regarded the defiant hell hound with a mixture of empathy and resolve. He understood all too well the hardships faced by those at the bottom of Hell's social ladder, especially creatures like the hell hounds who were often overlooked and marginalized.

"I apologize if my actions have caused you hardship," Charlomaine said, his voice steady yet tinged with regret. "We are all struggling in our own ways to survive in this realm."

The hell hound's eyes narrowed skeptically, but Charlomaine continued, his tone earnest and sincere. "But theft is not the answer. We are here to bring change, to uplift those who have been neglected and mistreated. If you tell us what you need, perhaps we can find a way to help."

The hell hound hesitated, clearly taken aback by Charlomaine's unexpected offer of assistance. Behind the facade of defiance, Charlomaine glimpsed a flicker of hope, a yearning for a better life for himself and his sister.

"We do not seek to be rulers here," Charlomaine continued, his words carrying the weight of his newfound purpose. "We seek to be allies, to create a realm where all beings, regardless of their station, can find peace and prosperity."

The hell hound's demeanor softened slightly, a hint of vulnerability surfacing beneath the tough exterior. "My sister... she's sick," he admitted reluctantly. "I needed those souls to trade for medicine. It's all I could think of."

Charlomaine nodded understandingly. "We will help you," he promised solemnly. "No one should suffer in silence or desperation."

With that, Charlomaine motioned to Ivon and Engelier, who approached cautiously with an air of compassion. Together, they began discussing possible solutions, pooling their resources and magical knowledge to find a remedy for the hell hound's sister.

As they worked, Charlomaine couldn't help but feel a surge of hope within himself. This encounter was more than just a test of their strength; it was an opportunity to reaffirm their mission and values. In Hell, where darkness and despair seemed to reign supreme, they had found a beacon of compassion and solidarity.

So. Astolfo said looking at him. What is your name

My name is Roland. Roland the hell hound said looking at him. Roland.

Charlomaine was shocked and it makes sense why he was getting, memory of Roland.

What is your sister name. Charlomaine said hopeing he was correct. What is her name

Her name huh. Roland said looking at him. Her name is bradamante

As Charlomaine stood before Roland, the hell hound who had stolen his bag of souls, a wave of astonishment swept over him at the revelation of the names. Roland and Bradamante – the same names as his beloved knights from his past life as Charlegame. It couldn't be a coincidence; fate seemed to be weaving intricate threads between his current journey through Hell and the memories of his former existence.

"I see," Charlomaine murmured, his gaze fixed on Roland with a mix of wonder and determination. "Let's go and help your sister, Bradamante."

Roland nodded solemnly, seemingly touched by Charlomaine's willingness to aid them despite their initial transgression.

In Charlomaine's mind, questions swirled. Why did each of his knights bear the same names as those who had fought alongside him in another life? Was there a deeper significance to this alignment, or was it merely a quirk of fate? For now, he set aside these ponderings, focusing on the immediate task of assisting Roland and Bradamante.

The group followed Roland deeper into the realm of Gluttony, navigating through the winding passages and shadowed corridors where the air itself seemed thick with a sense of ravenous hunger. As they walked, Charlomaine couldn't shake the feeling that each step brought him closer not only to understanding his own past but also to forging bonds of camaraderie and trust with his new companions.

Roland led them to a secluded cavern nestled within the belly of Gluttony, where dim torchlight flickered against the damp walls. There, lying on a makeshift bed of tattered cloth, was Bradamante – a hell hound much smaller than Roland, her fur matted and her breathing shallow.

Charlomaine approached gently, kneeling beside Bradamante as he assessed her condition. "What happened to her?" he asked Roland softly, his voice laced with concern.

"She's been sick for weeks," Roland explained, his gruff exterior softening with worry. "I've tried everything – scavenging for scraps, begging from others – but nothing has helped."

Charlomaine nodded understandingly. "We'll find a way to help her," he assured Roland and the rest of his knights, who had gathered around with varying expressions of compassion and determination.

Together, they set to work. Ivon and Engelier began chanting incantations, channeling their magic to ease Bradamante's pain and bolster her strength. Oton and Olivier searched the cavern for herbs and remedies that might alleviate her illness. Gerier, Gerin, and Berengier fashioned a more comfortable bed for Bradamante, using what scraps they could find to create a semblance of comfort amidst the harsh surroundings.

As the hours passed, Charlomaine watched with a mixture of hope and apprehension. The bond between him and his knights grew stronger as they united in their efforts to save Bradamante, reflecting the camaraderie that had once defined their counterparts in another time.

Finally, as dawn broke over the horizon, Bradamante's labored breathing began to ease. Her eyes fluttered open, and for the first time in weeks, a faint glimmer of vitality returned to her weary frame.

"She's going to be okay," Charlomaine murmured, relief flooding his voice as he exchanged a glance with Roland, who gazed at his sister with tearful gratitude.

Roland nodded silently, unable to find words to express the depth of his gratitude. In that moment, Charlomaine knew they had forged not just an alliance but a bond of trust and understanding that transcended the trials of Hell.

As they stood together in the dim light of the cavern, Charlomaine couldn't help but wonder what other challenges awaited them in this infernal realm. Yet, one thing was certain – with Roland and Bradamante by their side, they were stronger than ever, ready to face whatever trials lay ahead in their quest to bring hope and redemption to the damned souls of Hell.

I have something to ask. Roland said looking at him. If I join your knight will I get special treat ment if so I will join not for me but for my sister

"Roland," Charlomaine began again, his tone steady and reassuring. "As the Prince of Hell, son of Lucifer and Lilith, I can promise you more than just fair treatment. Joining my knights means you and Bradamante will receive special care and protection. You will both have the support you need to not only survive but to thrive in this realm."

Roland looked at Charlomaine, his eyes wide with surprise and cautious hope. "Special care?" he asked, almost uncertainly.

"Yes," Charlomaine affirmed with conviction. "You have my word. You and your sister will not be forgotten or overlooked. Together, we'll ensure that you receive the respect and opportunities you deserve."

A sense of relief washed over Roland's features, mingled with gratitude. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "We accept your offer, Charlomaine. We're ready to join the knights of Charlomaine."

With a solemn nod, Charlomaine extended his hand once more, sealing their agreement. Around them, the other knights nodded in approval, acknowledging Roland and Bradamante's inclusion into their ranks. In that moment, amidst the darkness of Hell, a bond of trust and hope was forged, promising a new chapter of solidarity and possibility for all who dared to dream of change in this infernal realm.

To be continued