Spectre of the Sinner - Chapter 6 part 7: The beast's underbelly

POV: Rosaria Finnegan, sexta hora noctis, Vest Schëld, Mellanphalia Kingdom

A tense silence reigned over the atmosphere. The air was heavy with the smell of damp iron, mixed with the peculiar smoky odor coming from that damn instrument of death.

“Then, do you mind explaining the purpose of your visit to this place? And also,” [Kathy] unexpectedly piped up, breaking the uncomfortable mood, “mind telling us how an outsider like you can find this location too.”

A cold chill suddenly breathed upon my nape. If I recalled correctly, then the damned foreigner appeared just as I was chatting up with [Kathy] over him and his female companion…

“First of all, I ain’t a creepy arse stalker, so please spare me from that unfounded accusations,” as if he was reading my mind, the black-clad man rescued himself from the following allegations, “I happened to bump into Miss [Dreamspeaker] when I arrived at this place, that’s all.”

The outlander shook his head before dragging the brown-robed foreigner toward him. Seeing that the brown-clad outsider was visibly struggling after being administered a strange shocking attack, I unwittingly frowned at the man for being unnecessarily rough.

“Please don’t run away like that, we still have a long talk ahead,” the man chided the stranger, not unlike a parent scolding an unruly child, before turning his attention toward the bar stand, “I’m a bit disappointed in you guys for not sparing any damn efforts looking at these.”

In his free hand dangled a collection of what looked like rusty pendants, their design was very similar to the ones issued to the members of the [Shadow Guild].

“Found them in those abandoned settlements as I hauled my fucking arse to this town,” the muted metallic clinking from the rustling pendants resounded in the tavern space, creating an out-of-tune musical note as the black-clad man lightly shook them, “I took my precious time to collect these, thinking that someone would be thrilled to have these back after what, some 200 years after the passing of the original holders of these.”

He then handed those rusty pendants toward [Kathy] before reaching a metal water container at his hip. All pairs of eyes waited in bated breath as the man leisurely removed his bizarre-looking helmet, partially pulled up the eerie skull-patterned face mask, and savored every drop of water from his metallic vessel.

“And as for how I found this place,” even underneath his creepy mask, I somehow sensed that his lips curved into a nasty grin, “let’s just say that I’m the same as every [Shadow Guild] member. So, will you be willing to listen to what I shall demand? After all, I have already returned those precious artifacts to you guys, so I should get something in exchange, no?”

A wave of collective indignance arose from the ranks of huddling survivors at the black-clad foreigner’s despicable request. Of course, my fist was also terribly shaken, slowly reaching toward the sheathed dagger on my belt.

“Suppose that we listen to you, then what do you want from us?”

“Two things, actually. Well, technically three, if you count lending a space for us to have a heart-to-heart. Of course, I’ll pay for the incurred expenses, so don’t worry, I’ll have it properly filed as a job request.”

“What do you mean by a prisoner of war? As far as we know, they’re just another member of the [Shadow Guild]…”

“See for yourselves about their true allegiance then,” the damned bastard then gestured toward the shackled figure before lightly taking out their necklace by skillfully reaching the inside of their hood, eliciting a peculiar cry from them.

At first look, it was clear that the brown-clad stranger’s pendant was different from ours. While ours had equal arms, that one had an elongated bottom arm, which signified that it was the [Holy Cross]. Yet the article dangling in the black-clad man’s hand wasn’t just a typical rosary cross used by an ordinary believer of faith.

The vertical topmost arm featured a halo-like pattern, where intricate inscriptions were engraved along the ring’s outline. At the center of the pendant, the familiar figure of the mythical figure central to the religion of the neighboring country, the [The Great Almighty], was beautifully etched, giving the impression of a living figure being crucified. The two horizontal arms of the rosary pendant marked the start of the divergence in design: a set of thorny vine-like patterns entangled the [The Exalted] arms, with the barbs piercing into his flesh. Going down the descending arm, what looked like horribly mangled limbs of various sizes and shapes crawled their way upon the figure’s legs, uncomfortably entwining and twisting at every nook of his legs. At the bottom tip, imageries of a fearsome inferno swallowing those slinking appendages were intricately carved, giving off a hellish vibe that would unnerve a weak-minded chap.

“So what? Even if they are agents from the damn [Holy Empire], what’s that have to do with us? If they paid for their membership, then we don’t give a damn care about who they are!”

An unbearable sense of displeased quiet spread through the devastated tavern space. What that man said wasn’t entirely wrong either, yet the indignance that was dispersing in our hearts grew bigger with every moment passed by.

Then a thick, smoky growl piped up from the far-left corner, stealing everyone’s attention. As I turned in surprise, I instantly froze upon seeing the owner of the voice.