The battle at the Seerside Falls was over, but from the dense canopy above, the conclusion felt less like a victory and more like an insult. From a hidden vantage point within the ancient trees, a man watched Hermes Archnemesis's escape with teeth clenched.
This was Seraph, the calm schemer and loyal subject of the Visigoth Cult. He had witnessed the entire pathetic performance of his comrade, Arak.
Seraph leaped from the branch, his brown cloak snapping in the wind like the wings of a predatory bird. He hit the ground with such force that the surface cracked beneath his boots.
"That bastard possesses the Demon Box. I can't believe it," Seraph grimaced, pulling out his rifle and checking the sights with an observant eye.
His mind drifted to the Oralnim, also known as the Alchemy Cube. It was a legendary relic of the Second Root, once used to synthesize high-tier reagents and stabilize mana. Seraph had personally delivered it to Lady Z, intending it to be a trap for Hermes—a lure that should have ended the boy's journey. But the plan had backfired spectacularly, and in the chaos, Lady Z had lost control of the relic's ownership.
"Milady was clear with her orders, but Lady Z has failed her," Seraph muttered to himself. Personally, he couldn't care less about the grand revival; to him, it was just another task in a long list of cold calculations. However, he was a man of order and results.
"The research cannot be delayed by her loss of control over the relic's ownership. To think she let such a cornerstone of our project slip through her fingers and into that boy's hands... it's disgraceful. Now the target has the Cube, and we have nothing but humiliation."
He felt the weight of the mission. The higher-ups did not tolerate the mismanagement of artifacts. "I'll cover Arak's ass for now, but once I secure the Cube back from that brat, Lady Z's soul won't be worth a dime to the Grandlord."
Seraph's face turned dark as he took flight, disappearing into the treeline like a ghost to track down the boy and reclaim the stolen relic.
Elsewhere in the forest, the spatial distortion of the Demon Box finally collapsed. Arak stumbled out into the clearing, his flamboyant attire shredded and his face twisted in a mask of pure rage. He pounded his fist against a tree, his breathing heavy and ragged.
"Hermes Archnemesis... you'll pay for this! A humiliating defeat I shall never forget!"
A small orb in his pocket began to chime with a low, vibrating hum. Arak pulled it out, and the blurred, milky eyes of his elder brother appeared within the glass.
"Arak, what happened to your face?" his brother asked.
"I stumbled on a rock. Ignore the bruises," Arak lied, his voice trembling with suppressed fury. "Why do you call?"
"The organization does not forgive concealment, brother," the old man warned. "I am calling because Seraph is on his way to correct a 'situation' under Milady's direction. It seems a certain target has taken something vital. Do you have anything to report?"
"Haler, I understand," Arak assured him, his hands shaking so violently he almost dropped the orb. He realized his brother was still in the dark about the Oralnim specifically, but Seraph's deployment meant the secret was already out. "Everything is... going according to plan."
"Very well. How goes the progress of the revival?"
Arak's eyes lit up with fanaticism. "Excellent news! We are at 98%. I cannot wait to serve our God. Gosh, I can't wait to serve the Grandlord as one of his great subordinates once the world is reshaped in His image."
"Good. May the Grandlord of the Ratican Empire guide us to the new light," the brother said before the orb went dark.
The moment the connection severed, Arak's face contorted. "I'm going to make sure you won't see the sunrise, Hermes. I will ravish you into pieces until there's nothing left for the crows."
Meanwhile, Hermes and his servants were sprinting through the darkening woods to rendezvous with Richarde's group. Justin carried the unconscious Venus over his shoulder with effortless strength, while Mambo brought up the rear, his eyes darting between the shadows.
"Sir, what do you say? Arak the Great Tamer?" asked Justin.
"Yes," Hermes confirmed, clutching the Demon Box tightly within his cloak.
"I can't believe that flamboyant man is still alive. He's likely one of the rascals aiming to control this island and might be involved with the activities of the Second Root," Justin presumed.
Hermes stopped for a split second, his eyes narrowing as he looked at his butler. "Wait. Justin, how do you even know about Arak? I only just met the guy myself."
Justin didn't miss a beat, his smile remaining perfectly composed as he adjusted the Priestess on his shoulder. "My Don, a butler's duty includes being well-versed in the 'pests' of the world. Information is the primary currency of the Archnemesis clan, after all."
Hermes sighed, choosing not to press further for now. "Fine. But Mambo is right—if they're connected to a secret society of that scale, it's an interagency threat. The Church won't tolerate this."
"Should we eliminate them now, Master? I think this is the right opportunity to deal with them," Justin suggested.
"Nope, not at this moment," Hermes corrected. "We need to make sure Venus and the children are safe and we must make sure that they are in a safe place far away from this danger zone."
"V-Veeenus~~~" Justin teased.
Hermes diverted his gaze and coughed once to hide his embarrassment. "Forget it! Right now, our priority is to escape this forest and report this to the authority."
"Sir, do you think they can catch up with us?" Mambo asked.
"Yes, well, I'm sure with that. That guy won't tolerate what happened today. I'm very sure he's going after me. At this moment, he might already be freed from imprisonment," Hermes affirmed.
"Master, rest assured. I'm going to kill him if he dares to," Justin declared.
"I know, but conserve your energy right now. We need to plan our next move, and we must prepare a counter-offensive and defensive tactic against those people," Hermes reminded them.
"Should I tell this to my master when she wakes up, Sir Aljen?" inquired Mambo.
"No, I don't think it's a good idea," Hermes shook his head.
"Care to explain it?" Mambo queried.
"I'm bad at explaining things, so please don't try to be perky, okay? Considering my position, I don't want to involve her too much. That girl is very precious to die in this world," Hermes sighed.
"Precious~" Justin giggled with a fox face.
"Oh, boy," Mambo simpered, scratching his chin.
"S-Shut it! This is not the time for making fun of me!" Hermes grimaced.
'Don Hermes is starting to develop some real feelings for this girl. Man, I can't wait to see the heir between these two. If the time comes, I'll have to invent a new camera just to capture the future Young Don,' Justin mused internally, his lips upturned in a sharp, knowing smirk.
'Master will be pleased to hear of this progress,' Mambo added to the silent mental chorus, his own smile widening as he kept pace.
"Fuck this shit... these people are delusional," Hermes muttered under his breath, his eyes fixed forward. "Why do you guys keep shipping me with her? I can't believe this. This is worse than dealing with toxic Discord users in a locked thread."
He adjusted the heavy weight of the Demon Box hidden beneath his cloak, the cold metal of the relic serving as a grounding reminder of the danger they were in.
A few minutes later, the dense foliage gave way to a cleared perimeter. They had arrived at the exact location where Richarde's camp was positioned.
"Sir Richarde, I've come to report that Sir Aljen the merchant and the other attendants are here. Sir Aljen is requesting to meet you," one of the guards reported.
"Good, let him come," said Richarde, the fourth district representative of the Neue Fiona Village. Though he was a wealthy and influential figure, he was a commoner merchant who had worked his way up to lead the village militia. He wore a green noble-style suit and a golden dove necklace—affectations of a man who enjoyed his success. On top of his head was a white cotton cap that every Victorian-educated man could affordably wear.
Hermes entered his tent, and Richarde stood up from his chair, extending a hand to be shaken.
"Good morning, Aljen. Short time no see. How'd you doing today?" Richarde greeted.
"I'm going to lie if I said I'm fine. Anyway, it's good to see you picking us up," Hermes said, grabbing his hand and shaking it.
"Kid, you've got some guts to face the bandits by yourself. I didn't expect you to do that," Richarde praised.
"Stop calling me a kid, Sir Richarde. You should address me by my name. There are two children that should be referred to by that word," Hermes corrected.
"I see. It's hard to escape from those people. How's the priestess?" inquired Richarde.
"She's doing fine. All I can advise is to evacuate the children and the priestess out of this place. ASAP. The number of enemies isn't fully mobilized from my perspective. I'm just grateful that the leader underestimates our abilities," Hermes suggested.
"Oh, really? You're a lucky bastard," Richarde chuckled.
"Y-yeah, I guess so. But I'm sure I'm going to run out of luck next time," Hermes sighed. Richarde offered him a chair to sit, but Hermes reluctantly refused.
"Alright, so any information about the bandit and their lair?" asked Richarde, gravely.
"The only thing I know is their leader. He's a flamboyant man who is proclaiming himself as the Great Tamer. The rest are not that important. They are just random henchmen you can kill anytime. Unfortunately, I don't know where the nest of those people is hiding, so forgive me," Hermes shrugged his arms as he explained.
"Oh, the Great Tamer of what? Never mind, he must be a fanatic of the immortal servant of the former Emperor. There's no way a man like him could still coexist with the living," said Richarde.
"Exactly, and that man shouldn't exist in this world, though," Hermes affirmed.
Great Tamer of Scily Island and a former servant of the last Emperor of the fallen empire weren't even part of the history of this game, Hermes thought. The set of the plot was gradually getting out of hand, and he didn't know what to do when something happened outside of his knowledge.
"Well, it's hard to fight that guy," Hermes sighed.
"Hold up, did you defeat the leader?" asked Richarde.
"Yep, and he's undoubtedly a strong contender but a stupid man—lacks consideration. He's stupid to let us remain untouched when he and the priestess talked about the new fashion trends of this nation. But I don't think he will stay like that forever after what I did earlier. He'll learn from his mistake and that mistake will make him stronger than ever. But I can assure you that he won't bother us with this number," Hermes gravely assured.
"Man, you're pointing out that he'll strike back after this. To think you believe he will. Only a fool would even dare to attack us in this place, though," said Richarde, smiling.
"Master Aljen, are you here?" asked Justin as he entered the tent.
"Umm, yep," Hermes answered with a confused face.
"Oi, I didn't give you permission to enter yet. Who do you think you are?" Richarde questioned, angrily.
"Shut it, you moron," Justin retorted.
"M-moron? Sir Aljen, who the heck is this prick? He has no manners," said Richarde, pointing his index finger at the butler.
"Forgive me. Master, get down!" Justin suddenly shouted, covering Hermes's body with a shimmering mana barrier.
"Everyone, duck!" Mambo hollered from outside.
The Ambush
An artillery spell—a condensed sphere of searing violet mana—screamed through the canopy before detonating directly atop the command tent. The shockwave was instantaneous, a physical wall of pressure that flattened the heavy canvas and snapped the central wooden support beam like a toothpick.
The world vanished into a cacophony of splintering wood, tearing fabric, and the roar of displaced air. A massive crater opened where the militia's supply crates had been, sending shards of iron and splinters flying like shrapnel.
Hermes felt the barrier Justin had conjured vibrate violently, the blue hex-grid flickering under the immense heat of the blast. The air was sucked out of the tent, replaced by a thick, suffocating blanket of pulverized dirt and acrid gray smoke.
Hermes coughed twice, the grit of the earth coating his tongue and throat. He pushed aside a heavy, burning flap of the tent as he stood up from his position. His vision was blurred, the orange flickers of secondary fires dancing in the haze. The once-ordered camp was now a hellscape of overturned wagons and shouting village militia.
The kids, Venus. Oh, shit. Where are they? Hermes asked, his heart hammering against his ribs in a way he hadn't felt since his regression.
"Are you alright, my Don?" asked Justin. The butler was already on his feet, his suit miraculously unstained, his eyes scanning Hermes's body from head to toe with predatory focus.
"I'm fuckin' alright. Are the kids and Venus safe?" Hermes inquired, his voice hoarse. He lunged forward and grabbed Justin's collar, his knuckles white.
"Yes, sir. Mambo moved them behind the secondary barricade before the impact," Justin nodded calmly.
"What the fuck? Take the priestess and the children out of here! Now!" Hermes ordered, shoving Justin toward the wagons.
"But, sir. You're the most valuable existence I should protect," said Justin, his eyes narrowing as he sensed more mana gathering in the distance.
"Richarde, the enemy found us now. I believe you need to correct yourself for this!" Hermes grimaced as he reached into the debris and picked up a militia rifle that had been blown near his feet. He checked the bolt; it was still functional.
"Ah, my bad... I didn't think we were facing a mage," Richarde stammered. He rubbed his bruised back as he scrambled to his feet, his white cotton cap lost somewhere in the rubble and his green suit covered in soot.
"This is not the time to relax! We need to evacuate the children and the priestess now!" Hermes turned his attention to the shell-shocked men around him. "Oi, you guys, what the hell are you looking at? Stop looking at me! Focus your attention on the bastard who did this! Anyone who can use a shield or mana, protect the wagon from that fuckin' spell!"
The authority in his voice was absolute, cutting through the panic like a blade.
"W-who the hell are you?" asked one of the guards, staring at the "merchant" who suddenly looked like a veteran commander.
"I'm Aljen, you moron! Now, use the destroyed logs and scattered rocks as a cover! Form a defensive line!" Hermes instructed, pointing toward the ridge.
"Y-yes, sir!" the village militia nodded and followed, instinctively obeying the man who seemed to know exactly how to survive the fire.
"Wait up... I'm the leader of this crew, though!" Richarde shouted, trying to reclaim his dignity as his commoner militia looked to the merchant-warrior for orders. He shook his head, sighing as he realized the survival of his men depended on this "Aljen."
"Never mind! Follow his command! That's my order!" Richarde bellowed to the camp. "Evacuate the Priestess and the children immediately! Use the wagons! Everyone else, listen carefully: take your arms and shoot at that man in the sky! Man... is the new generation really this scary now? Being educated in the high class is so damn great, I suppose."
Richarde turned back to his men, seeing them hesitate. "Oi, idiots! Didn't I order you all to take the Priestess and the children out of here?"
"Sir, we need cover from those assaults!" one of the militiamen cried out, ducking as a secondary explosion sent dirt raining down. "We cannot risk moving the wagons from this location while that mage has us in his sights!"
"Aah, damn it! I'll come with you then!" Richarde growled, then turned to Hermes with a desperate, pleading look. "Sir Aljen, can you do me a favor?"
"Sure, what is it?" Hermes asked, his face a mask of confusion and mounting irritation.
"Please cover our escape. Thanks, lad!" Richarde winked, flashed a quick thumbs-up, and sprinted toward the wagons before Hermes could even protest.
"Son of a bitch!" Hermes raged, the rifle trembling in his grip.
"Okay, move now!" Richarde's voice echoed as he threw both hands up, activating a Tier 4 Magic Barrier that shimmered like a translucent green dome over the escaping caravan.
"Man, that guy left us all alone," Justin commented, his eyes wrinkling in a look of mild amusement despite the chaos.
"Justin, who's doing this? He's no longer interested in shooting the wagons... he's only aiming at us!" Hermes argued, flinching as another bolt of mana cratered the ground ten meters away.
The butler closed his eyes for a fraction of a second, activating his Clairvoyance. His vision pierced through the smoke and high into the stratosphere, locking onto a silhouette clad in a brown cloak, hovering like a vengeful spirit.
"Oh, boy. I think I know exactly who is shooting at us," Justin said.
"Who?" Hermes asked angrily.
"It's my old pal, Seraph. He's using a Tier 7 Artillery Spell. I guess he's finally recovered from that last fight," Justin suggested calmly. "No need to worry, my Don. I'll handle this. Please run for the forest when I confront him."
"And when and where exactly should I go? He's fucking up there!" Hermes complained, gesturing to the open sky.
"Well, run for the forest again after my signal. Go straight toward the river when the battle begins. Then, follow the flow where the water goes down. It will show you the path to the secret entrance of the village," Justin explained.
"Wait, I don't want to go there! That leads to the fifth district!" Hermes argued, his memories of the "forbidden place" flashing vividly in his mind.
"Well, never mind. It was just a suggestion," Justin heaved a sigh, his expression turning sharp as he crouched low, his muscles coiling like a spring. "Just run for the forest and wait for my return, I guess."
"Wait, can you fly?" Hermes asked, bewildered.
"Nope. But I can jump higher than a normal human," Justin confirmed.
The second round of their fight had begun. High above, Seraph looked down through his rifle's scope, his face cold and observant.
"May the Grandlord of the Lost Empire bless me with his powers. His strength and influence shall rule the world," Seraph prayed. He channeled a massive surge of mana into a medium-sized bullet within his rifle.
He pulled the trigger with ease. The bullet whistled through the air, transforming mid-flight into a massive, glowing cannonball of violet energy. It scattered in the air, raining down like a cluster bomb. The ground where the young Don was hiding erupted, creating a series of massive, smoking holes.
Clang!
"Oh?" Seraph's eyes widened. He swung his rifle around just in time to block a bare-handed strike from Justin, who had launched himself into the sky like a cannonball.
"Yow, Seraph. Good to see you again. I hope you don't mind me joining you in the air," Justin said with a lethal grin, immediately following up with a powerful kick aimed at Seraph's left ribs.
Seraph blocked the impact with the reinforced barrel of his weapon, trying to point the muzzle at the butler's chest. But he was unable to pull the trigger as Justin pursued him with a relentless flurry of strikes, forcing the mage into a frantic aerial dance.
The sky transformed into a dark battlefield. The two figures moved so fast they appeared as flickering shadows against the gray clouds.
"Good grief, Justin! Give me a break!" Seraph argued, his calm facade cracking. "Just let me kill the bastard and be done with it!"
"Nah, I won't let you," Justin declared, dodging a point-blank shot with a grace that looked like he was dancing a Carinosa—the urban folk music of Hispania. "I'll keep bothering your job even if it costs my life!"
Justin thrust his palms forward, releasing a Black Orb of concentrated gravity. Seraph clicked his tongue, twisting his body in mid-air to activate a new spell: Multiple Shot Fire.
The sky was suddenly overwhelmed with clouds of black dust and orange flashes as the spells collided and detonated in a chain reaction of explosions.
Down below, Hermes watched the heavens ignite. The distraction was perfect.
"Hmm... I guess it's time for me to move now," Hermes murmured.
Clutching the Demon Box to his chest, he turned and vanished into the depths of the forest, the sounds of the titan's duel echoing behind him.