“So, Your Majesty, Elio Welchia, King of the Great Velvet Forests,” said the Saint-Priest, walking away and sitting back down in his chair. “Since when are you a King?”

  Hold on now, old man. There are things I need to wrap my head around, not to mention that your damn Priestesses have not yet brought me a chair. At least let me sit my ass down.

  ‘Ephe,’ I turned inward, panicking, ‘How is a man part of the Fracture itself?’

  [Anomalies do Happen.]

  [The Widening of the Fractures caught the Living in it.]

  [The Laws are Broken.]

  ‘That I do get, woman, but how me, killing this guy, if I can even kill him, that is, solve the Fractures?’

  [Killing Him will not fix the Fracture of the Broken Law of Justice.]

  [It will only Remove a Variable.]

  [Fracture 7 cannot be Fixed until All the parts are Discovered.]

  [And Until Elio Wills it.]

  ‘Will it? Fuck am I to will such a thing? If I can fix them, I will.’

  [Good.]

  … Not good, miss. Not good at all, actually. You are asking me to kill the local head of a religion. A Saint no less. It’s like asking someone to kill Saint Peter. Do you understand the consequences of that, and what that will do to the religion itself?

  ‘How am I supposed to kill him? Better yet, how strong is he?’

  [Initializing.]

  [Subject: Gavriel, Saint-Priest of the High Temples]

  [Species: Human?]

  [Age: 127.]

  [Road: Holy.]

  [Similar Reigncraft Classification Detected: Sovereign.]

  [Intent: None Detected]

  [Recommendation: Do Nothing.]

  ‘Brilliant strategy! Better yet, let me just teleport myself back to Calcan Castle and stop caring about what happens, hm? Because you are telling me to kill someone as strong as the fucking snakebird that ate the fucking savages!’

  [It would be Ill-Advised to Leave.]

  ‘Would it?’

  [Yes.]

  ‘Not to worry, Ephe. We will one day meet, you will see then.’

  [Oh no…]

  ‘Sassy, sarcastic bitch.’

  [Your Grace.]

  ‘Did you say something?’

  [Ephe said Nothing.]

  ‘Mhm.’

  “Your Majesty?” asked the target of the Gods, pulling me back to reality. “Why are you not sitting down?”

  “Huh?” I frowned, looking behind me and seeing a chair there. When, how, or by whom it was brought there, I have no clue. “Yeah, uh, sorry.”

  After I sat down in the chair, I looked at the man and his bald head, thinking how funny all of it was. A Saint-Priest, in a way, the leading figure of a religion, was the ire of the Gods, wanting him dead for the betterment of the world. If that wasn’t ironic, I wasn’t sure what was. But even so, I doubt if I told him that the Gods, or whatever the Custodians were, wanted him dead, he would just stand there, letting me kill him.

  And even if he would, I doubt the battalion of Templars behind my ass would really allow it to happen. By William’s words alone, that seemed like a poor idea to even conceptualize winning. So, of course, instead of actually coming up with something that might aid me, all I managed was to bring back the bloody headache from yesterday.

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  “As I was asking,” the Saint-Priest spoke. “Since when are you a King?”

  “For a long time now,” I lied casually.

  “How long is that?

  I feigned a smile, trying to sell the lie, “Long.”

  The games have begun, but I couldn’t just do nothing as Ephe recommended to me, so we spoke. And spoke we did, until the old men themselves grew bored with it.

  “I assume there is nothing more to discuss, for now, Your Majesty,” said Gavril, his eyes somewhat disappointed after a few more hours of back and forth. “You are a good soul, whatever you may be. Could we discuss a bit more, another time?”

  “Sure thing,” I sighed, getting to my feet, turning to see the Templans and Priestesses in the same spot they were in before. People in this world fucking love to stand unmoving as if they were statues.

  But spotting Enna throughout the lines of soldiers and cold women, I started walking toward her casually.

  “Your Majesty,” a man near Gavril spoke up for the first time. “A word of warning, if I may.”

  So I turned around and looked at the withered grandpa, my red eyes struggling against his blue ones, “What is it?” I asked.

  “Do not get involved with House Barta any longer. It is for your own good, and the good of the realm.”

  The old man’s words made me frown, but I said nothing more. There was no point explaining anything to him, so I turned, walked to Enna, told her to come if she wished to, and left the Chapel the way I came.

  There was nothing said between Enna and me, nor with the rest, after we met with them at the Guild afterwards. Only little Arthur spoke, casually talking, voice aloud like the small brat he was, as he kept telling me about the sweets he ate and how delicious they were.

  And as we were approaching the mansion in the distance, I couldn’t help but smile at the pure, unaltered happiness the dog boy was feeling from such a simple thing, while I, or the rest of us, were struggling on multiple fronts.

  Ah, yes. Speaking of fronts.

  Once we’d arrived back at the mansion, we were welcomed by Stevin and the Princess, who was now able to look into my eyes, surprisingly. But not with good news.

  “They are coming,” Stevin said, grimacing. “All of them. They will be here in two days.”

  “What do you want to do?” I asked. “Stay and fight, or leave?”

  “There is no more leaving for me,” Stevin shook his head, grabbing the Princess’s hand. “We fight.”

  It seemed their relationship bloomed in that Latrine. I guess everyone standing in substances they shouldn’t stay in gets close to each other. After all, that’s how I met my Julia!

  “But…” he said, his eyes turning to everyone else, eyes lingering on mine the longest. “I do not want you to get involved. None of you.”

  Many of my companions agreed to his request, agreeing to come back to this in the morning. So with that, the two of them took us to the guest mansion, offering us our rooms for ourselves, finally allowing me to go and take the most heavenly piss. But before that…

  I opened my coat, pulling out the Pixie that stood quietly inside one of my inner pockets.

  “You devious bastard,” she complained the first moment she was out of my pocket, almost putting her back inside the next second. However, I had a better idea.

  “Oh, yes?” I asked. “Am I a devious bastard?”

  “Of course you are,” she shook her head. “My eyes know when I see an evil person, tricking all those people like that. Have you no shame?”

  “Shame?” I frowned. “Relia, have you ever tasted a pixie?”

  At my question, the shadow rushed out from under my clothes, making sure to leave through the front so that the angry fairy could see for herself what evil really looked like.

  “No, a pixie I have not,” Relia grinned, taking her human shape right near my side, in full view of the now-panicking pixie. “But it is never too late.”

  “That it is not, indeed,” I nodded, closing my fist around her.

  “Wa-wa-wa- Ouch! Wait! Let us talk about this!” the pixie argued, trying to break free of my grasp.

  I shook my head without a care; I was pissing myself after all. It was now or never.

  “No,” I said, playing the pixie in Relia’s hands. “Talk to her about it. I’m going.”

  “Wait!” the pixie demanded. “Where are you going?”

  Where else?

  “To piss,” Relia and I said in unison.

  For some reason, the person who knew me best in this world was the most cataclysmic thing I’ve ever met. She was an extinction-level event, ready to wipe out a Kingdom whenever she felt like it. But instead, she sucked my blood, stayed in between my clothes, and for better or worse, this Vampire turned Queen was, at the very moment, my bodyguard.

  I was safe from many things, and in danger of others. Maybe she could’ve killed the Saint-Priest, maybe she could kill the entire army approaching, wanting to hunt Stevin and his family to extinction. But it wasn’t her job. I would rather not unleash her on others just because, since, as you might have forgotten, she was a CATACLYSM! An Angel outside of her Road! A being to a spot compared in the Reigncraft so high, I didn’t even know what it meant.

  So yeah, I will just go and piss while I let her tame that sassy-pixie into submission. After that, the Ruler of Calcan Castle will go straight to fucking sleep.

  Ever since we brought Stevin back, I found myself socializing more than I did in years back on Earth, so forgive me for wanting nothing else at the moment.

  “Oh, you’re back,” said Relia, seeing me walk back into the room. “How was the piss?”

  “Strong flow, great aim on my side… wait… why do you care?” I frowned.

  She shrugged casually. “Seems amusing.”

  “Where is the pixie?” I said, changing the subject. “I don’t see her… nor hear any complaints.”

  “In a better place,” she smiled.

  “What? The Gods?” I tilted my head, worrying that she might have killed the small thing.

  “No, silly,” she sighed, getting to her feet and moving the cover away to show the pixie sleeping on the far corner of the bed.

  “I see…”

  “Yeah, she was tired. Her magic almost depleted,” Relia nodded along.

  “As long as she doesn’t complain and rests well, I don’t care,” I sighed, sitting on the bed. “Well, either way, I’m tired. Feel free to eat after I fall asleep.”

  “Aye aye,” Relia replied casually. “Good night, King of Velvet.”

  “Good Night, Queen of… whatever its name was.”

  She threw a pillow at my head. “The Twin Monarchy of Laskhar. Do not forget it again.”

  “Mhm.”

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