Human stupidity had no limits. These creatures were smarter than any other living beings, yet they repeated the same mistakes on a path toward self-destruction. The human world was one of babies—giant babies feeding upon one another in Hell.
“Truly remarkable.”
The well-dressed man uttered the words as he gazed at a basement shrine with an atrium somewhere in the imperial capital. He and two others on the second floor looked down at the ceremony that took place in the darkness below.
The ceremony was attended by some fifty men and women, all of them in strange attire. They wore animal pelts that crowned their heads and nothing more. A primitive drum beat pounded out a steady rhythm, echoing through the shrine as the attendees lewdly and openly indulged in one other. The drugs they’d taken had them in a trance, and they no longer knew if they were human or monster.
On the altar of the shrine was the object of their faith. It was an unusual sight, to be sure: its upper body was a winged woman, its lower body a strange mess of tentacles. In front of the statue was a stone table, upon which lay a nude girl. She faced the ceiling, her eyes unfocused and distant. She muttered something unintelligible from the depths of a trance. A man in a goat’s mask with a knife of obsidian stood beside the altar.
“God of the Netherworld!” he shouted as he raised the blade high. “Accept this sacrifice!”
The man let his blade drop square in her chest. The girl made no attempts to resist, and blood spurted from her mouth as the strike took her life. She spasmed on the altar like a fish out of water.
The man in the goat’s mask pulled his knife free and blood sprayed from the wound, covering him in red. He then plunged the knife in again, gouging open the girl’s chest and digging out her heart. When he placed the organ respectfully at the statue’s feet, the gathered crowd grew excited and their voices rose up in deranged cheers.
It was a ceremony for fanatics of the God of the Netherworld, and it had just reached its peak.
“Quite the show, wouldn’t you say?”
The voice belonged to one of the three figures watching the ominous ceremony from above. She was a bewitching young woman with a cold smile. She looked glamorous in a revealing, eastern-style dress. Foxlike ears poked out from the top of her head, proof that she was a hybrid beast.
“The Netherworld Faith is a gaggle of fools who worship the Void’s high-level beasts, thinking them the true gods. The faithful are idiots, yes, but they’re obedient to the founder and they have no fear of death.”
“Remarkable. It is exactly what we were looking for,” said the man excitedly. “They’ve said you are the empire’s best broker and mediator. It appears they were right. We have a deal, Reisen.”
The young woman named Reisen nodded, satisfied. “The founder of the Netherworld Faith and I are on friendly terms. They’re all antiestablishment, and so long as the price is right, they’ll follow even the orders of Rodanian agents like yourself. Leave the negotiations to me.”
Her conversational partner, the Rodanian spy, had been dispatched to the empire to clean up after his predecessor’s failure and continue his intelligence work in the imperial capital. His newest orders had come in just a few days ago.
“I would appreciate that,” the man replied. “The Netherworld Faith is essential to our plans. My goal is to assassinate a particular VIP visiting the empire for the Seven Star Cup, and the faithful will come in handy. I’m counting on you. Failure is not an option.”
“Worry not. They will assist you when you put your plan into action.”
Reisen turned her gaze to the third person standing with them, a strange figure wrapped in black. The darkness of her robe covered her eyes, making her expression impossible to read. In the underworld, she was known as the Lord of Flies, a handyman of sorts who took on any job, no matter the danger. Among Scavengers, none were as exceptional—or dangerous.
“Expect great things, Rodanian,” the Lord of Flies said with a chuckle. “Your wishes will come true.”
“I’ve heard so much about you,” the agent replied, nodding. “And I feel much more confident knowing the Lord of Flies is on our side. Let me share with you my plans in their totality, then…”
And so the trio discussed their plans as a ghastly ritual took place below. After the Rodanian agent left, Reisen and the Lord of Flies watched the ceremony come to an end. Now that the grotesque celebrations were over, the faithful fell into exhausted slumber.
“He appears to believe us completely, Malebolge,” said the Lord of Flies derisively.
Malebolge—for that was Reisen’s real name—laughed in delight. Reisen the broker was merely a disguise she used to blend in. She was actually Malebolge the Chaotic, an enemy of humanity and one of the Valiants.
“He’d never imagine, not even in his wildest dreams, that you are in fact a beast.”
Malebolge shrugged. “It was a team effort. That agent carries himself like a gentleman, but behind that facade is a merciless killer. When he’s done with his work, he intends to snuff us out. He will not want to leave any loose ends. He’s exactly the reason I despise the Rodanians.”
“That makes two of us. We will simply have to take his life before he takes ours.”
“Oh, we won’t need to do that ourselves. We’ll leave it to Etrai’s Seekers. We’ll do as we always do—watch from on high and wait for our perfect opportunity.”
“Are you sure? Goat Dinner’s Dolly Gardner finds you extremely suspicious. One false move and she may get a lead on you.”
Dolly and Malebolge had met before. Dolly only knew her as Reisen the broker, but her Seeker instincts told her there was more to it. She’d gone as far as hiring an information broker of her own to dig into Reisen’s identity. Malebolge had been able to maintain her veil of secrecy so far, but it was only a matter of time before her identity was revealed.
“After all the work you put into the Netherworld Faith,” said the Lord of Flies, “it would be a shame for it to come to nothing.”
Malebolge was directing the Netherworld Faith from behind the scenes. She had gathered the disgruntled and the dissatisfied, readying them for a day when they would wreak immense havoc and destruction. Though the majority of its members were simply faithful believers who didn’t know the truth, the religion’s executives were all activists plotting the downfall of the Dufort dynasty. They had multiple branches outside this one, all devoted to working in the shadows.
“That won’t happen,” Malebolge said calmly. “We will use Goat Dinner’s investigation against them, and they will find themselves confronting our Rodanian friend. The Seekers will most certainly emerge victorious, but the Rodanian is stronger than he looks. We merely need to launch a sneak attack while the clan is attempting to recover from the battle.”
“You think that’s possible? Goat Dinner is a member of the regalia.”
“We don’t need to win. We only need to weaken them to the point that they can no longer chase us. They will stop the investigation of their own accord. Goat Dinner’s lofty position on the regalia is also a restraint—if they cannot maintain their unity, another clan will usurp them. We can expect them to remain docile while they put themselves back together. Plus,” added Malebolge, her lips turning up in a wicked grin, “there is the matter of the venomous snake on the regalia. He is one we cannot underestimate.”
“Venomous snake… You mean Noel Stollen.”
Noel and his clan, Wild Tempest, were the newest members of the regalia, and he had earned that position by burying his predecessor, Johann. Noel was one of the empire’s most violent and aggressive Seekers. If one showed even a sliver of weakness, he pounced on it. He was every bit the sort of enemy that required extreme caution.
“What if Dolly and Noel join forces?” asked the Lord of Flies. “They are both alike in their aggressive approaches. They will accomplish their goals by any means necessary.”
“Such a partnership is impossible. Noel is too busy with the Seven Star Cup. He doesn’t have the bandwidth to aid Dolly. Even if she were to ask for his help, he would refuse her. Just as he did the first time.”
“Are you sure you are not taking them lightly? If Dolly uncovers your identity, Noel will most likely lend her his aid. You are one of the Valiants, after all.”
“We will cross that bridge when we come to it,” said Malebolge lightly. “I have the luxury of an eternity. Unlike you, I can start over right from the very beginning if I have to.”
The Lord of Flies let out a low groan, and Malebolge laughed.
“Don’t be like that. I’m taking this very seriously. We will use the Seven Star Cup to inflict serious damage and crush the empire’s leadership. On the day of judgment, we will be victorious. The snake and the goat are mere trifles.”
“I hope that’s true…”
“It is you who should tread carefully. You’re the one with ties to the snake, not me. His fangs are vengeful and obsessive. It’s possible he’ll turn them on you.”
The Lord of Flies remained silent. She remembered it all so well. Noel had hoped to make use of Andreas Hooger, the CEO of Hooger Commerce, and she had assassinated the man right before his very eyes.
“The day of reckoning approaches,” said Malebolge. “Neither of us can afford any errors.”
The Lord of Flies nodded. “Yes. The day the world fractures is before us. We must see to it, no matter the sacrifices.”
Everything is for humanity’s salvation, she thought, her resolve renewed.
“I must go. Contact me if anything happens.”
No sooner were the words spoken than the Lord of Flies transformed into countless tiny insects, revealing that the figure had been little more than a familiar—a replicant—controlled from afar. The flock of flies disappeared from the shrine like a black mist.
When all the flies had disappeared, a man in a white coat appeared without a sound at Malebolge’s back. “How long do you intend to use that for?”
“Until it breaks,” answered Malebolge tonelessly.
The man’s expression filled with enmity. He was Empireo, the Soul of the Samurai. “I will always hate you.”
“Empireo, you know I’m not here to make a fan out of you.”
“Then I don’t need you to pretend otherwise. When all this is over, I swear I’ll kill you.”
His words overflowed with his urge to end her on the spot, but he disappeared just as he came—without a sound, without a single trace.
“You swear you’ll kill me, hmm?” said Malebolge in a singsong voice. “Such wonderful words.”
Her eyes darkened like evening twilight.