Rose Empire

Chapter 46: Arson and the Trial of Demons

Sokya Peninsula, City-State of Little Sassinian

Eric Scamario, clad in a dusty linen shirt, sat in the gloom of a Little Sassinian tavern, nursing a mug of weak ale.

Little Sassinian was founded two centuries prior by migrants from the larger Sassinian City-State. Over the generations, the original settlers had prospered and multiplied, continually drawing in newcomers, resulting in a sizable population. Yet, despite its growth, the city's heart remained much as it had been at its inception.

Little Sassinian was roughly divided into three concentric zones.

The outermost zone was the outer city, a sprawl of haphazardly built houses, shacks, and numerous livestock enclosures. Little Sassinian thrived on its livestock industry, particularly its high-quality wool, their premier export. The local saying, "more sheep than people," was hardly an exaggeration.

Moving inward, one reached the inner city, constructed by the original migrants and forming the city's core. A low wall separated it from the outer city. Buildings here displayed a semblance of order, hinting at some initial planning, though only marginally so. When Little Sassinian was first established, the inner city was generously proportioned for its few thousand inhabitants. Even now, sheep pens belonging to the older families could still be found within its bounds, a testament to the early settlers' practice of keeping flocks within the city walls. However, two centuries of population boom had transformed the inner city into a cramped and congested space, riddled with unauthorized constructions that narrowed streets to barely wider than two arm spans.

At the city's heart lay the Mountain Ring City, built later, nestled within the inner city against Mount Bion. About a century prior, recognizing the inner city's inadequate defenses and growing overcrowding, the people of Little Sassinian began constructing a "city within a city" on Mount Bion's slopes. Upon completion, vital institutions like the Senate, the church, granaries, and the homes of influential old migrant families relocated there. The Mountain Ring City, with its more robust walls and strategic elevation, offered significantly greater security than the inner city.

Eric Scamario, drawing on the experiences of the necromancer Regba Dando, had instructed his attendants to bypass the Ambratu Sea by boat, bringing him directly to the coast near Little Sassinian. Under the cloak of night, he swam ashore, slipping unnoticed into the city.

Due to Charlotte's need for secrecy, Eric Scamario refrained from contacting his Little Sassinian acquaintances. Instead, he adopted the guise of a wool merchant. Having previously traded wool in Little Sassinian, he could convincingly discuss business with local merchants, raising no suspicion.

After conducting some initial reconnaissance, Eric Scamario discovered that the twelve Ambratu detainees were no longer at the Little Sassinian docks.

Speaking with discreet dockworkers, Eric learned that the Ambratu prisoners had been moved to the inner city.

Eric initially anticipated some difficulty in finding an opportunity for assassination, given the inner city's density and complexity, making it challenging to pinpoint the prisoners' location.

However, shortly after entering the inner city, he found his task far simpler than expected.

Nearly every resident in the inner city was consumed by talk of the twelve Ambratu citizens, vehemently denouncing their supposed shamelessness and mocking their foolishness. People were openly urging each other to pelt the Ambratu prisoners with dung and filth in their sheep pen confinement.

Following the throng, Eric went to observe for himself. The Ambratu citizens were indeed bound and held in sheep pens within the inner city, forced to live and eat amongst the animals, guarded by a mere four soldiers. The scene had become a public spectacle, drawing crowds of residents who came to gawk and hurl projectiles at their historical adversaries. By the time Eric arrived, the twelve Ambratu citizens were already coated in grime and waste.

Having located his targets, the next step was the assassination itself.

Eric surveyed the area around the sheep pens, then sought out a tavern to drink and strategize his plan.

He identified at least two significant challenges to assassinating the twelve prisoners. Firstly, he was unarmed beyond a small dagger, having forgone weapons to maintain his disguise and lighten his load for the swim ashore. Secondly, escape after the act could prove problematic. Despite Little Sassinian's small size, its two-century-long animosity towards Ambratu meant it undoubtedly possessed its share of supernaturally gifted individuals. If exposed, Eric was far from confident in his ability to escape unscathed from a potential siege by dozens, if not hundreds, of supernaturals.

Just as Eric wrestled with these dilemmas, a disheveled, bearded man with a pipe that glowed faintly sat down across from him. Such patrons were commonplace in this tavern, which catered to the city's poor, but the glowing pipe snagged Eric's attention.

As night deepened, Eric, feigning drunken stupor, was unceremoniously ejected from the tavern by its brusque staff.

Eric slumped in the gutter beside the street. In this impoverished district, a drunkard's plight was of no concern to anyone. Yet, unnoticed, Eric, who appeared completely incapacitated, opened his eyes. Assured he was unobserved, he rose and deftly slipped into a nearby alley, showing no trace of intoxication.

Night in Little Sassinian was dim, yet not entirely dark. The main thoroughfares of the inner city were illuminated by small, white lamps.

Local lore claimed that Mount Bion yielded a unique ore that glowed like a night pearl. Fashioned into hanging lamps, they provided light without the fire hazard. Unfortunately, these lamps were dimmer than torches and quickly lost their luminescence after mining, preventing them from becoming a significant source of wealth for Little Sassinian.

These lamps presented a minor complication for Eric that night. He had assumed finding fire would be simple, but after searching the city, he could locate neither torch nor oil lamp. Ultimately, he was forced to infiltrate a dwelling through a window to secure a flame.

Having obtained fire, Eric retraced his steps to the sheep pens.

The once raucous sheep pens were now quiet. Of the four guards, two appeared to be asleep, while the remaining two maintained watch. Eric scaled the wall, swiftly incapacitated the two sentries, and then lifted the straw curtain to confirm the twelve Ambratu citizens were still inside.

The sheep pens were primarily constructed of wood, with rammed earth walls, a thatched roof, and even the curtain fashioned from straw. The eastern side served as sleeping quarters for both sheep and prisoners, while the western side was stacked high with fodder.

To maximize the impact of his actions, Eric also gathered a pile of dried straw to block the pen's entrance. He then ignited the straw and tossed a burning handful into the fodder within.

Flames erupted and rapidly spread.

The two guards who had been resting seemed to be alerted by the blaze and rushed back. Eric, prepared, subdued them as well before melting into the shadows.

The sheep pens, laden with flammable materials, swiftly transformed into an inferno. The Ambratu citizens inside shrieked in terror and agony. The burning enclosure became their prison, and the cast iron chains their bonds. Weakened by days of meager sheep fodder, they were too feeble to break free.

Satisfied that the fire was sufficient to ensure their demise, Eric returned to the alley near the tavern and resumed his drunken act.

The fire intensified, beginning to engulf the shantytowns adjacent to the sheep pens. The inner city guards, even when fully mobilized, struggled to contain the conflagration. Eventually, the nobles from the Mountain Ring City dispatched aid to control the blaze in the inner city.

By early morning, the fire was finally extinguished.

Soldiers and supernaturals of Little Sassinian scoured the city for arson suspects. Eric, discovered "sleeping" in an alley, was questioned, but his potent smell of alcohol and the corroborating accounts of the tavern owner and staff allowed him to pass without suspicion.

The Scamario family's unusual resistance to alcohol's effects was a peculiar trait, leading Eric to speculate about a possible hybrid lineage. However, for a family of rural knights, this characteristic was largely irrelevant, as they seldom found themselves in situations demanding heavy drinking. Eric had never imagined this trait would one day prove so useful.

Eric lingered in the city long enough to confirm the deaths of the Ambratu citizens before departing Little Sassinian.

The guards initially intended to seal the city gates to hunt for the arsonist, but after only half a day, they were forced to abandon the plan due to citizen protests.

It appeared that, in the eyes of Little Sassinian's populace, the deaths of a few Ambratu were ultimately beneficial, as keeping them alive was merely a drain on fodder supplies.

Ridgeback Viscountcy

Charlotte stood in the castle garden, hands clasped behind her back, observing Celine instructing three young girls in physical exercises.

Monica's letter had suggested replanting roses around the castle, an idea Charlotte found appealing. However, winter being an unsuitable season for planting, she instead had the gardeners level a section of the garden to create a small playground sufficient for dozens of girls to exercise.

Charlotte had anticipated at least a dozen girls, but only three had materialized.

These three girls, naturally, were those identified as possessing supernatural potential among the fiefdom's children: Lola, Julia, and Doris.

Among them, Doris exhibited the greatest potential and was the youngest, only six years old. Lola was the eldest, at thirteen.

However, their ages were difficult to discern from their appearances, as all were slender and diminutive.

"This type of exercise is pointless," Celine grumbled to Charlotte. "What they truly need is more food to gain weight."

Charlotte nodded in agreement. "I've already instructed Renee to supplement their diet. For now, you simply need to ensure they get a certain amount of exercise each day."

"Right," Celine responded with a lack of enthusiasm; childcare held no allure for her. She much preferred the adrenaline of combat to the role of a schoolteacher.

Sensing Celine's disinterest, Charlotte offered, "Do a good job, and I'll reward you."

"I don't want that kind of reward from you," Celine retorted reflexively.

Charlotte blinked, then a mischievous smile played on her lips. "How does little Celine know what kind of reward I was referring to?"

Celine's cheeks flushed crimson.

The previous day, Charlotte had also promised her a reward, and the subsequent night had culminated with Celine in Charlotte's bed. Truthfully, compared to their first encounter, this brief night of intimacy had been quite enjoyable though she did feel somewhat dehydrated the following morning.

Had Renee or Cecilia offered Celine any advice, she might have realized that an entire night of "play" was actually quite extensive, not brief at all.

Nevertheless, in terms of sheer pleasure, the previous night could indeed be considered a reward, though Celine's reason insisted she must never acknowledge this.

Just as Charlotte and Celine were conversing, Renee escorted a visitor into the garden.

"Mr. Fado, it's been too long. You should visit more often," Charlotte greeted the visitor with a curtsy.

"Viscountess, you are perpetually occupied with official duties. How could I presume to disturb you without a valid reason?" Pastor Fado responded with a slight bow.

"Nonsense. You are welcome to join me for tea at any time," Charlotte chuckled. "But from your words, I gather you have a specific matter to discuss today?"

"Well... it's not particularly pressing..." Fado hesitated, then somewhat sheepishly admitted, "I heard you recently executed a necromancer."

"Indeed," Charlotte confirmed with a nod.

"Might you, perhaps, be willing to relinquish the necromancer's head to me?" Fado rubbed his hands together, visibly embarrassed.

Fado was acutely aware of his awkward position. Traditionally, hunting necromancers fell under the purview of the local church. Yet, during Charlotte's pursuit of Regba Dando and his zombie horde, Fado had remained sequestered in the church, effectively absent from the action. Now, he was requesting the necromancer's head… Fado lacked the audacity to believe he deserved the spoils of a victory he hadn't contributed to.

"If Regba Dando's head were still in my possession, I would gladly entrust it to you for purification. However, it has already been claimed by another," Charlotte explained, spreading her hands apologetically.

"What? Who took it?" Fado asked, surprised.

"An inquisitor from the Angelic Cathedral, a Mr. Borodin," Charlotte replied truthfully.

"The Angelic Cathedral!" Fado nearly leaped, stamping his foot in frustration. "The Angelic Cathedral's jurisdiction is confined to the Sokya region. How dare they trespass on my territory to pilfer a head! How utterly shameless, how disgraceful…"

Charlotte, observing Fado's escalating fury, couldn't help but inquire, "Why is Pastor Fado so determined to acquire a necromancer's head?"

Fado, startled, realized his outburst and quickly coughed to regain composure. "About a month ago, the Oracle issued a divine decree. Grand Shepherd Kouzon declared that the Lord Igg commanded us shepherds to capture and judge demons who blaspheme the sacred. I reasoned, is not a necromancer a demon? If I could present a necromancer's head, the Archbishop would surely reward me. And of course, I would have mentioned your piety to the Archbishop, Viscountess. But now, it's all for naught…"

As he spoke, Fado's demeanor turned melancholic.

The Oracle held the second most sacred position within the church hierarchy, surpassed only by the Holy City of Moyes. The Holy City of Moyes was believed to be the site of God's direct descent into the mortal realm, while the Oracle was where direct communication with God was possible. Consequently, the Oracle's leader, Grand Shepherd Kouzon, held a position in the church second only to Pope Hunlin II.

After listening patiently, Charlotte maintained her smile and said, "It's merely a necromancer. Speaking of which, many mountain folk have recently arrived in your territory. I was intending to assign them to work on the construction sites. Perhaps you could inspect them, Pastor Fado? Surely there must be some non-believers among those barbarians."

"Mountain folk?" Fado recoiled slightly, waving his hands dismissively. "No, no, mountain folk are not worthy of a shepherd's efforts to enlighten."

While knights might view mountain folk as insignificant as carrion flies, to Fado, a man of farming background, they were excessively crude and barbaric. Angering such individuals could put his own safety at risk, and the meager defenses of the church might prove insufficient to protect him. For his own well-being, it was preferable to leave those unenlightened people to the lord for manual labor.

Having failed in his quest, Fado departed, crestfallen.

Charlotte's amiable expression, however, gradually hardened into seriousness. "A trial of demons?"

A month prior… that coincided with the time of her awakening and the red moon. Could this divine decree be aimed at her?