139 Nobody Expects The Inquisition

Sherbury Plains. In all aspects, it was just an ordinary, wide-open grassy plains, located to the northeast of Misfon. It was largely uninhabited, owing to the fact that the ground wasn't fertile in the slightest. It was hard and cold, and the only thing that could grow on it was the cold-resistant grass that was native to the region.

And yet, today, it had gotten quite the spotlight, thanks to the peculiar "visitors" that had graced the place. What kind of visitors you might ask? Why, nothing else than a thousand men marching under the banner of the Church's Inquisitors—a special organization whose job was to root out anything and anyone the Church deemed heretical.

Why are they here? Simple. The Feudal Lords of the human-controlled part of the Demon Continent had asked for more army, due to the increasing tension between them and the Demon Lord of Wisdom. The Church obliged. The Inquisitors were naturally well-trained in combat, and they were certainly filled with the kind of zealots who would love to die in combat against the demons so they could enter Valhalla.

They had marched all the way from the Holy Land to the West, going through the winter. They had crossed multiple countries in the process, even those not affiliated to the Church like the small kingdoms of the Feuding States. No one dared to say no to them, or else they would risk angering the Inquisitors, who wouldn't hesitate to raze a city to the ground and kill all the inhabitants if they deemed them as heretics, which, wouldn't be that hard if one were to be honest, since many believed a heretic was just anyone who wouldn't bend over to the Church's authority. It's far easier to just let them through, even profiting from supplying them with food and water—two things they usually paid in their fair price. They might be zealots, but they were well-funded zealots.

And now, they were in the middle of resting their laurels in the middle of said plains, creating a large encampment there with numerous tents laid in a circle, with the large tents of their officers in the middle. There was also one tent exclusive for strategy meetings and reports, where you would find the two top dogs of the army, which would be the Head Inquisitor and the Vice Head Inquisitor. They looked as if they were in their thirties, with the woman being younger than the man. Oh, and they were a married couple, a bond formed out of years of working together as a pair of Inquisitors beforehand. The man was the one who confessed. Bluntly, if I might add, by saying that he would like her to be the mother of his children as she was a good woman with a good pedigree and morals. Nothing about how attractive she was or how much he was in love of her.

And yet, she accepted, proving that the two were really peas in a pod.

It was a fact not many knew since they always acted professionally around each other, never showing any signs of affection. They even slept in separate tents and rooms during this trek to the Demon Continent. Were they having some sort of a personal, or even bedroom issue? To those who knew them, they would know those reasons to be unlikely. They were simply followers of the dogma of marriage stoicism, believing that the Saint wouldn't want passion to rule marriages. One should marry only to raise kids that would become devotee of the Church's teachings, nothing more and nothing less.

It was early in the morning, and yet, the two were already there, barking orders to their subordinates. They were sitting on a pair of wooden chairs with one shared long wooden table between them. Piles of what looked like reports were scattered on said table, along with a couple of unrolled map scrolls as well.

As for how they looked, the woman certainly stood out more than the man, with her long blue open-shouldered dress and long golden hair. She was the perfect example of the cool beauty-type, as she rarely, if ever, smiled. Her gaze always pierced through your soul, searching for any taint that might corrupt it.

As for the man, he was also good-looking, with a tall figure, a sharp nose, and curly black hair. He was dressed more simply however, with only a long black robe not that dissimilar to those worn by priest apprentices. And, just like his wife, he too had a similar piercing gaze, though for some of the less well-mannered female inquisitor knights, it only added to his handsomeness.

The two were intending to leave early, as tardiness was a sin in the eyes of the Saint, so they were busy making sure that their men were performing their departure preparations well.

"Y-Your Holiness!"

A man dressed in a full steel armor ran towards the two—the clanging heard from miles away. He immediately gave them a bow before continuing his speech.

"T-that matter you told us to check! You were correct!"

The two's expression promptly turned into a frown. They exchanged looks at each other, before the woman spoke.

"Are you sure about this?"

"Very sure, Your Holiness! There is indeed a reasonable chance that there is a necromancer working their unholy magic in this kingdom!"

About some time ago, they had gotten an anonymous letter basically telling them that the court mage of the Fiania Kingdom was a necromancer. And not just tell. It gave them some reasonable proof, enough so that they decided to send a group of Watchers, that is, the Inquisitors' scouts and spies, to investigate the matter further.

And now, their leader had given them the report that there was indeed a high chance that a necromancer was present. Which meant, they would have to do something about it. Necromancy was one of the vilest dark magics, and anyone who found practicing it would be burned at the stake as their punishment.

The woman stood up from her chair. "I'll go," the woman spoke as she looked at the man, placing her hands on the front of her dress. "I will take some of our soldiers. You can go ahead. We'll catch up before you cross to the Demon Continent. And no, like we've discussed, there's no need for us to send our entire force there. I would rather not give the heretic any chance of escape."

The man sighed. "Very well. You have my authorization to do whatever you deem necessary to bring this necromancer to justice. Go, and may the Saint be with you."

The man was not worried in the slightest.

After all, he knew perfectly how strong his dear wife was.

***

Being a relatively small country, and away from the cultural center from the continent, there weren't many sites in the Fiania Capital that you could call tourist-worthy, other than the towering castle that resided in the middle of the town. They said that originally, the entire town was inside said castle, thus making it a castletown—something much more common in the tiny nations of the Feuding States Region. However, as the town grew, the space inside no longer sufficed, thus the growth of the town outwards of said castle. Eventually, the ruling king at that time decided that he wanted the castle exclusively to himself, thus ending the castle town concept completely.

Like any other castles where a monarch resided, it was guarded heavily by knights and soldiers. They even had ballistas aimed at the ready on the walls. Certainly excessive to some, but the king believed it was necessary as a show of force to his citizens, so no one would ever have any ideas to rise up against him.

Oh yes, the king. He was… quite the individual. To the people of the capital, his infamy was well-known. For what you might ask? Why, for being a big, fat, womanizer.

No, that would imply that he had any charms with the ladies. That would simply be untrue, even if he believed otherwise.

No, he's a woman hunter. That's what he was. Any woman that caught his eye, he would tell his knights to bring to the castle, whether she wanted to or not. He would have his way with her, until the day he got bored, in which she would finally be free to leave him.

And no, this didn't only include the commonfolk. Even noblewomen would fall to his schemes. Any nobles who tried to resist would be put down swiftly. And many even welcomed it, as the king would be willing to compensate their families handsomely if they would just lend their nubile, young girls to him.

The king wasn't always like this, however. Once, he was a relatively well-adjusted king, with only one wife by his side. However, once she birthed his daughter, the lame princess, he changed. He ordered her to be executed and he became the perverted woman hunter that he was right now.

Thankfully though, that's all in the past, as lately, he hadn't been going out woman-hunting anymore. This change of demeanour was surprising, but a welcome one to be sure. His prime minister was certainly much happier that his king was finally becoming a decent person, and that he would have to be less on edge against possible assassins sent by disgruntled nobles whose daughters he violated. No one bothered to suspect further that a certain court mage might be involved with this sudden change of heart.

No, to be more exact, some of the smarter retainers of the king already knew that she must be responsible in one way or more. However, they liked the new king better, as he was always obedient to whatever they had to say to him. And the court mage wasn't going around ruling the kingdom. She was content staying in the shadows, while occasionally making her frequent and lengthy trips outside the castle.

In short, everyone involved would rather have this arrangement last forever.

Unfortunately, it was simply not to be.

***

"Halt! Identify yourself!"

At the front gates, just before the drawbridge that led to the castle grounds, a group of horse riders had made an uninvited visit. They were all wearing brown cloaks that hid their features, which only added to the guards' suspicions. They immediately surrounded them, pointing their spears and swords towards their general directions. There were about twenty of them, while the riders' numbers could be counted on one hand.

"What business do you have, o cloaked ones?" The guard captain chuckled. "The king isn't expecting any visitors today and I can't imagine him wanting anything to do with people who can't even be bothered to show their faces like that."

"Move aside." The one on the front spoke with a cold, commanding tone. "This is an official Church visit. Obstructing us would be akin to obstructing the Saint herself."

"Oh? A woman? That's a surprise. Why hide under that stuffy cloak then? Too ugly to show yourself?" He chuckled again. "And no, we don't want any of your proselytizing kind around here."

The woman sighed. "You are truly a fool, aren't you?"

She reached inside her cloak, taking out what looked like a necklace with a dragon-shaped ruby decorating it in the middle. She dangled the object in the front of the guard, swinging it back and forth like a pendulum.

"Huh? What's that supposed to be? Lady, if you think you're bribing me with that, it ain't gonna work."

The woman sighed once again, this time louder than before. "So I am truly really dealing with a Rank 1 class idiot."

"No matter. We'll gain entrance whether you like it or not."

Before the guards could react, a barrier enveloped her and the rest of the group.

"H-hey, what do you think you're—"

She moved her index finger upwards, and a platform appeared underneath them all. Said platform then flew upwards, heading straight towards the castle proper itself.

Naturally, this triggered a mass state of panic for the rest of the guards.

"S-sound the alarm! We're under attack!"

"Fire! Fire all the ballistas! Hit those goddamn people down!"

Unfortunately for them, not a single one of their attacks managed to pierce the barrier the woman had erected. The arrows, bolts, and even the magic fired by the mage guards—all of them were repelled perfectly by her holy magic.

They soon landed on the front door, where the melee-oriented fighters waited on the ready. They ended doing the same damage as their ranged counterparts, which was to say, none at all. The cloaked figures then descended from their horses, before walking casually towards the entrance of the castle building, as if mocking their incapability to present any danger towards them.

"Attack! Attack! Don't let them get to His Majesty!"

One of the cloaked figures opened the door, making way for the woman. They continued like that as they made a beeline for the throne room in the second room. The woman gave another gesture with her right hand, and one of her subordinates immediately fired a light so blinding that it incapacitated all the soldiers that were chasing after them.

"A-aarghh, m-my eyes! My eyes!"

Blinding Light. It was a relatively simple spell, but it could occasionally blind people permanently.

When they arrived at the throne however...

"Empty. The king isn't here."

Instead, what stood there was a tall man wearing green steel armor, with only his head exposed. Behind him was fifty or so soldiers, all aiming their spears and bows towards them.

Behind them, more soldiers poured in, thus surrounding them completely.

He was a man around 60 years old, with white hair and beard. And yet, other than the wrinkles on his face, none of his age's common weaknesses showed on him. He casually carried with him a large double-sided battle axe with his right hand.

"You're quite bold, assaulting the castle in broad daylight like this. I have to applaud you for that." He grinned. "Alas, the king isn't here. Instead, you got to meet his general. Lord Ephraim Basilisk, at your service."

"Move aside," the woman spoke. "I can feel it—a subtle dark magic infesting the air in this castle."

"Huh? Dark magic? Sorry, lady. We don't have anything like that around here."

"Of course you don't know. Only an inquisitor can detect a magic this subtle."

"Hoo? An inquisitor? You mean, from the Church?"

"Correct. And, by the authority the Saint and the Divine Dragon bestowed upon me, I order you to stand back."

"Then why the cloaks? You guys look like a bunch of dark mages with those on."

For the first time, the woman paused, She gave a gesture with her left hand to her subordinates, before, in perfect sync, they all took off their cloaks at the same time.

There were six of them, including the woman. The biggest of them all was a grave-looking middle-aged man with dark hair, wearing a white steel plate and a cape adorned by symbols of the Church. Then, there was a girl, younger than the woman. She wore a pure white nun's outfit, only the skirt was a short one. She had silver hair and she currently had a grin on her face that could be described as sinister and off-putting.

Behind her was another girl, wearing a simple light brown dress with a long slit to the side. Unlike her, she was a redhead. Her expression was one of absentmindedness.

After that was another man, blond, younger and more lightly-dressed. If he wasn't wearing the official light armor of Church knights, he might be mistaken for a noble, what with that cocky of expression of his. His weapon of choice was a sword.

Last of the least, there was another man, similar in age compared to the blond. Instead of an armor, he opted for the usual black robes of a priest. He had dark blue hair, and his expression was that of caution, with his eyes not only paying attention to the general, but also to the rest of the room.

"My name is Aether Whitebloom, the Vice Head of the Inquisition. The tall man behind me is Eldan Firmshield, the silver-haired one is Tina Valentine, the redhead is Engel Blackroot, the blond man is Feter Grefeu, and the blue-haired one is Asan Silvermane. They are all officers of the Inquisition. Would that be enough?"

She rushed through their introduction, not even trying to hide her displeasure from being forced to do such a worthless task.

"Alright, alright, that would be enough." The general chuckled. "So, what heresy and dark magic do you accuse our king of doing?"

"Necromancy," she answered without hesitation. "But he should be the victim. The culprit instead would be your court mage."

At this information, the cheery look on the general's face promptly turned into a frown.

"Her? Necromancy?" He scratched his beard. "Damnation!" His eyes lit up. "So that's why His Majesty has been acting like that!"

"Unfortunately, she's not here at the moment. She's away doing Saint-knows-what somewhere, as usual. As for His Majesty, I can take you to him."

"Very well. Then I shall take you on your offer. However, I would ask of you to lend your men. I just so happened to know where that dark mage might be hiding, and I would like to launch a full-blown assault to her location at once."

Satisfied by their answers, the general ordered his soldiers to stay put. He then led them to the safe room at the basement, where the king had been escorted to.

"General Basilisk!" The soldier who stood in front of the room saluted him. "Why are you here? Has the attack been repelled already? And who are those people behind you?"

He was one of the King's Royal Guards, an elite group of soldiers selected from the best of the best to defend the king's life as if it was their own.

"There was no attack. It was just a misunderstanding. These people are from the Church, and I'm afraid our king has been afflicted by a terrible dark curse that has been controlling him. They're here to heal him."

"A-a curse?" A look of fright was visible on the soldier's face. "W-what do you mean?"

"Move out of the way. We don't have much time."

The soldier could only do as he was told. Royal Guard he might be, the general was still in charge, second only to the king in military matters.

There, inside, along with a number of other Royal Guards, was the king. He was sitting in the corner of the room with a book on his hand.

When the Inquisitor woman saw him, she walked over to him immediately. She tossed the book aside before grabbing his hand with her own. And then, a few seconds later…

"He's dead. The man you see in front of you is just a living corpse puppet."

"W-what? What do you—"

Before the Royal Guards could protest, her hand moved to his face, grasping it as hard as she could.

"Aaa..aaaaarghhhhh!" The king suddenly gave a searing yell of pain. The Royal Guards all unsheathed their weapons, but the general yelled, "Wait! Let her finish!"

Before long, steam started to come out from his skin, as if he was being boiled alive on the inside. And then, slowly but surely, the state of his body deteriorated, turning exactly how she had described it—a decrepit, decomposing corpse.

He fell to the ground afterwards, before evaporating into flames and dust.

"You've been fooled. Your court mage, Cordelia Flameu, had killed him a long time ago, before reanimating him with her dark arts."

She turned to face the general and said, "Fetch your troops. We're moving out right now."