Side Story 51: Our Lives For the Next Generation. [Release Version] (Patreon)

“So my plan partially worked. That is why the chamber was empty when I visited it. Haha, I didn’t expect that … Which means that wolfkin was a Belzac. The last, or at least one of the last, of her bloodline.”

Inside the meeting chamber of the palace of Bole’Taria, five spiritual projections could be seen speaking with each other. Their forms were hazy, barely differentiable if it weren’t for their silhouettes and the voices coming from them. However, one thing was clear—none of the demonkin princes were in Bole’Taria’s capital, Oolaz’Cile.

The Prince of Greed nodded to Pride after he finished his report on the events which occurred in Inkoran-Tazul. “Naturally, it could have been the power of a lust demonkin—I am aware of that possibility—but that demonic power was too controlled. I saw the contractor assimilate morphing demonic mana to alter their form. Impossible, unless they got their hands on a perfected tonic. And I don’t think our lust prince or her sin heirs would aid those humans, nor do I think they can control their powers well enough to aid their contractors to assimilate.”

“And I haven’t perfected the tonic yet,” Sloth responded, irritated. “To produce something to bring out our full demonic powers. To draw out the full potential of our blood … Elusive, still.”

“… You’ve mentioned this often, but sound unsettled for some reason. Why?” Wrath spoke.

Greed laughed. “It is because we finally found some of the lost documentation from that Davison fellow you picked up to help us, Lord Pride. Nothing substantial; most of his notes were lost when he died. These notes are more about a point in his log where he expressed the fact he perfected the recipe of the ton—”

“Foolish! Lies!” Sloth exclaimed. “He? That human? Perfect my recipe that my predecessor had been working on for years to perfect? Nonsense! Absolute nonsense! He died because he failed to conceive the proper mixture for the tonic, and drank himself to his death like one of the grimgarian shamans!”

“… A pinch of pride in your pedigree, perhaps?” the Prince of Pride teased his fellow comrade, angering the usually lethargic Lord Sloth. Chuckling from Sloth’s reaction, Pride continued. “It doesn’t matter in the end. Davison is dead and we cannot utilize anything he might have made in the past. The now and the future is what matters. Use whatever you can to finalize the tonic and the dragonator. With how things are progressing, we will need the power to ensure our race survives.”

Greed and Sloth both nodded, for they had seen the newest Champion of Aurena in action, including the alliance she had created around herself. Their reports were a warning to everybody that their mortal foe, Goddess Aurena, was preparing whatever she could to turn the tides of war in her favor.

Aside from the personal interference of Aurena’s champion, most of their war efforts on the western portion of Altrust were concentrated on the grimgarian army and the Church of Aurena’s capital, Aureolis. They naturally had demonkin sympathizers here and there like Davison or Reajaen’s enemy O’Bloom, but they could only disrupt the alliance at best, not stop them.

Unfortunately, the grimgarian army was currently rebuilding after Saori raised a slave rebellion within their newly-founded kingdom, and the Prince of Envy responsible for controlling Aureolis was stricken with insanity. In addition, the Champion being a dragon princess was the most alarming part, as killing Hestia would only bring down the wrath of an enraged rank SS upon them, the same mother dragon who recently killed an ancient, albeit weakened, rank SS leviathan.

How could any of the demonkins defeat such a foe?

“Envy … needs to go,” Lord Wrath suddenly brought up, silencing the grumbling Sloth and talkative Pride, drawing their attention to him. They glared at their general, suspicious of his intentions.

“Haha.” On the other hand, one of the other princes found this suggestion amusing, leaning forward with interest, showing a smile none of the princes could see through the murky projection, but clearly hear from the tone of his voice. It was none other than the Prince of Gluttony. “Striking when the meat is at its juiciest, yes? What a perfect time to cut off our most problematic member!”

“More like time to get rid of the person he hates the most,” Sloth lazily added, sighing out of annoyance.

“Envy and Wrath … Their powers contradict each other in their preferred usages,” Greed murmured. The elderly demonkin could only sigh. “I have spent my last aberration, aside from this one, and all I hear from the next generation of princes is to kill each other. We already lost the last Lust because of Lord Pride’s plan, and now you want us to lose another experienced member? Have all of you lost your mind?”

“Lust accepted it,” Pride defended himself, even as Greed only clicked his tongue.

“All of them are hedonists who wish to feel something new! We all knew she would accept, as being sacrificed to a god is a one-in-a-lifetime opportunity!” Greed smacked his cane on the ground, gritting the handle hard as he remembered the ecstatic face of the last Prince of Lust before she perished. “All lusts are hedonists one way or another; we demonkin are all slaves to our desires.”

Pride squinted his eyes. “And all of us deserve a better life than one stuck on these arid mountains we’ve been living on for nearly 700 years! Exiles or refugees, it doesn’t matter what we call ourselves. It is without a doubt that we were given these cards and now we must fight back with everything we have! We must do this for our future generations, as did Nini’Yal!”

“Praise the Edjurl gods!” Gluttony shouted, a mood lifter to the core. However, the situation only became more awkward as everybody went silent, with Greed and Pride glaring at each other with daggers. “… Oops, maybe not? Here I thought we all support the Edjurl gods.”

“We do,” Greed and Pride exclaimed simultaneously.

“So, how does this antagonism help then?” Sloth questioned. “Why does it matter right now what happened? Nini’Yal accepted Pride’s suggestion and we all performed the ritual to beg aid from the gods. They brought in those kids. How about we do what Pride suggested and look to the future? What are we gonna do with them? And what are we doing with Envy? After all, Wrath does bring up a good point.”

“Sloth …” Greed glared at his work partner, only for the latter to sigh and tell him to calm down.

Instead, Wrath responded, “Lord Greed, I understand my decision might seem rash, or influenced by emotions, but I am currently in L.E.P. I am looking at this as objectively as possible. Envy, after his descent into insanity, has done nothing but harm our plans. He pushed the decision to attack the dragon Champion before we found a way to solve the matter. The decision to push the dragon’s existence caused the death of a prolific dragonslayer, which will only attract more flies to her. Dragonice is our greatest worry, right now.”

For those sailing around the area of Elyonda’s waters, the first sight one would see would be the grave of Karhalantheel, frozen in place by the greatest ice dragon of this age. This mountain-size glacial island couldn’t be thawed under the sun nor would it move away from where it was anchored, acting as a reminder to the world none should anger the dragonkin of Kargryx.

“As such, I suggest we get rid of him. Eliminate him and crown a new Prince of Envy demonkin from the next generation. We all must lay down our mantle for the good of Bole’Taria eventually …”

Greed closed his eyes, pondering over his words and his own thoughts on the subject. “… Mine time will come, but not until I have done my part. The dragonator blueprints will not be my last contribution.”

The council of sin princes comprises three generations—the Prince of Greed had watched over every member currently on the table when they were still only recruits to the army. His skin was wrinkling and his limbs felt the consequences of time. He could no longer move and fight like in his youth, but his mastery of his magic and demonic powers had not waned one bit. He could still fight. He could still serve until his life flickered and dimmed.

“However, I can also see leaving you youngsters to your own devices will only cause more issues.” His eyes glazed over to the unoccupied seats reserved for Envy and Lust. “As long as I am alive, I will not hand over my mantle. You all still need guidance.”

“Haha, maybe so.” Pride smiled. “But, stopping Jumi’Yal was impossible. As you said, we demonkin are slaves to our blood, and to our newest Prince of Lust, losing one of her friends shook her to her core. Our reports mention that she has already taken a ship over to western Altrust to seek revenge. If only she had accepted the meeting, we could have told her that Vifi’Yok is still alive.”

“But she deserted. That’s the important part, Pride, haha!” Gluttony’s joyous attitude was once again a mood breaker, however, none spoke up against it as they knew this was simply his personality. “If Lust had heard that, how would she feel? Betrayed? Happy? Enraged? Oh, the thought of it! Although, I do wonder how Wrath feels about this? How does it feel? To have one of your Warbringers leave our country the moment she found the opportunity, and to have that leonid merc lie to your face like that?”

“Upon her request, probably for her sin crystal so we couldn’t track her,” Sloth added, to which Wrath nodded.

Still, instead of answering immediately, the stoic general stayed silent. The princes knew Wrath would be the most affected by this news, as he was the one who chose Vifi’Yok as one of his three sin heirs upon the request of her adoptive father. His former Warbringer, who died in battle to assure the victory of a skirmish against the Folschreck Empire, and now his adoptive daughter were both lost to him during his service … At least, he thought Vifi’Yok had died.

“It is her decision.” Was his answer after a long-time of pondering. “She knew exactly what she did when she made her choice, for her father had taught her well. She is a deserter and now a traitor. When we meet, I shall treat her like any other criminal—death.”

Pride frowned, looking unimpressed by his answer. “For somebody who just learned that one of his precious heirs betrayed him, you don’t sound angered at all, nor frustrated. You are a Wrath, let it out … or are you telling me you aren’t furious that she is now working with somebody who wishes for our death?”

“We don’t know about that, Pride,” Sloth chimed in. “We saw her fighting with the dragon, but due to the circumstances, she had to work with them to survive Maagneil. She could have escaped when we left.”

Pride slammed the table on his side. “Nonsense! Even if that might be true, then what? She is still a traitor for even thinking of working with a Champion of that false goddess! The daughter of God Marsven? One of the highest Edjurl gods? Pah! A weakling and one who betrayed her true servants. Just like Plesia, Crustacia, and Zephira! Not to mention that buffoon Danterno who is responsible for everything!”

Pride stood up from his chair with a seething red face, discoloring his pristine yellow skin. His grip broke the wooden table he placed his communication device on, before he sat back down after performing his breathing practices. He pulled up a lute laying on the ground, plucking the strings to emit soothing tunes, calming himself down almost instantly.

Although the sound wasn’t transmitted to the meeting room in Oolaz’Cile, the princes understood Pride’s silence was due to him enjoying his hobby of producing music. To be a Prince of Sin, one must be able to keep their desires mostly controlled, but it was impossible to do it for every second for even the most experienced prince.

“… Either Vifi’Yok is dead now, imprisoned, or she is working with the Champion. She was weakened as her apprentice reported, and she lost her sin crystal. If she lost to the Champion and her kirin sister even with Satanael, then she would have no chance against them now. Maybe she can escape with her voltaic lightning, but then what? She is a fugitive now; I don’t understand her choice. Why did she betray our nation and gods? The army and family she has here? She was supposed to lead our nation with the others of her generation once we ended this war, so why?”

“… Is it that hard to understand, Lord Pride?” Wrath asked.

Pride did not answer. He had decided to concentrate on his playing instead of continuing this, in his opinion, worthless discussion. The rage he felt for the demonkin unwilling to help their nation, or even betray it, burned too fiercely.

Gluttony broke the silence, undeterred by the awkwardness. “That aside … What do we do with the otherworlders? I’ve treated them as Greed and Sloth told me so, but what now? Isn’t there a chance that they might have spoken with the Champion? We lost that Saintess, uh, Fleindia?”

Franz and the students he brought back to the Folschreck Empire had mostly integrated themselves back into their former routine, although, with full knowledge that their actual enemy was the Church of Aurena. The Prince of Gluttony, responsible for their demonkin’s influence in the Empire, hadn’t done anything to them aside from more serious surveillance.

“Ah, right, I had wanted to inform you about that. We have an issue, the Yanderu Elusseus are showing their real colors,” Greed answered. “The prophet of the trickster Edjurl has declared his intention of supporting [Justice for All].”

“… So not only has that leonid stole our sin crystal and can use it however he wishes, now we must fight against one of the Edjurl gods we are supposed to help out? Da hell?” Gluttony’s irritation was clear to hear. “Haha, what is this fuckery? So I can’t kill those little kiddies unless we also want to go to war with the Yanderu? Ahaha, we’ve scratched their backs for sooo long and this is how they repay us? Ahaha, I want to kill them already! Can I? Kill one of their little gangs?”

“No.” Wrath shut him down, causing the usually energetic Gluttony to finally go silent. “I will have Streiga return that sin crystal. Let us simply make sure the Yanderu do not obstruct us too much for now. We do not want them to cause us issues with their own plans, nor would they want for Gluttony to go wild and turn on them. The issue will be in the future when those otherworlders will inevitably help that Champion whelp.”

“Losing Saintess Fleindia was a loss. Lord Envy’s decision to keep her alive to ‘maintain trust’ in the church was a smart choice back then, but I guess none of us could have guessed he would go insane and make such irrational decisions, like sending that girl out. Even sending those otherworlders out,” Greed continued, but was quickly corrected by Gluttony.

“Nah, the Trickster God’s prophet persuaded Folschreck’s Emperor to send them out. He handled it immediately after the newspaper was distributed, before I could even assess anything. Envy … that bastard really ruined my peaceful meals. Feels like I’m getting stomachache more often recently.”

Sloth sighed. “What a drag.”

“Do not forget, my fellow princes, our deaths matter little; all that matters is that we assure Bole’Taria and its people survive for the future. We must assure that Folschreck is destroyed and that the Edjurl gods protect the demonkin against the Light Goddess.” Greed’s word rallied everybody, reminding every prince of the oath they took on the day they became Princes of Sin. “These are the most precarious times. Aurena is moving and the Yanderu are fulfilling the Trickster God’s bidding to change this world simply for the sake of causing chaos; we must remain adaptable and change our plans if necessary … As such, I accept Lord Wrath’s suggestion. We must retrieve Envy.”

“What if we can’t? What if he dies? That Champion will aim for him now that she has an army behind her,” Gluttony asked.

“Then we proceed with the Divide.”

Everybody nodded to Greed’s decision. Regardless of what happened, everything would lead to the destruction of the Folschreck Empire and the eventual defeat of the humans. For the demonkin’s victory, everything they and their predecessors had built up over all these years will finally bear fruit.

“Who will extract Envy?”

“I shall,” Stopping his playing, Pride answered. “I wish to see this Champion of Aurena and form my own opinions.”

Greed nodded. “You are also the closests to Lady Lust. Ensure she doesn’t cause any problems. It doesn’t matter if Envy dies or not, just make sure to return with his body so we can ease his heir into their role.”

“Of course … it might also be a good thing to see Mistress Klea’Hatma and Vifi’Yok, if she is there. Lord Wrath?”

Wrath shook his head and that was it. With that, everything that had to be discussed was spoken and the council was adjourned, returning this room to silence.

***

Meanwhile, in a different location, silence was a state only possible when soldiers and mercenaries were too exhausted to continue fighting and the vultures had finished scavenging from the bodies of the fallen. Even then, the sizzling of burned bodies and the swarms of buzzing flies would forever taint the blood-filled and mana-polluted lands, leaving it a haven for monster spawning.

This was a war-torn battlefield.

Bodies of humans, beastmen, and demonkin covered the grounds as the sun glared down upon them. Whether men, women, or even children, all that mattered for the people who breathed in the blood-scented air was if you were an enemy or ally. To live was the highest priority for the masses, or barring that, to hand down their lives for the sake of their ideals and country.

On one of the imaginary lines created amongst the two warring armies, the groans and screams of the demonkin soldiers filled up the air. Although there weren’t as many casualties and injured as usual, as the skirmishes were minor today, those still wounded and on the brink of death had to endure their hellish wounds, hoping the alchemists and mage healers would save them.

Even then, mourning could be heard as some soldiers grieved for their fallen family, friends, and lovers, while some demonkin were anguishing over their raging desires. Wrath demonkins were being herded like sheep by elite soldiers, assuring they wouldn’t go berserk, while lust demonkin fulfilled their hedonistic pleasures, helping their fellow soldiers relief. Meanwhile, the kitchen guards had to stop the “famished” gluttony demonkin from devouring more than their rations, while you could hear the squabbles of greed demonkin fighting over the loot from their fallen allies and enemies.

Still, aside from the negative energy filling the battlefields, there were those still enjoying themselves, eating or training. The sound of blacksmiths repairing gear could be heard, while mages kept training their skills up. In another area, tactics and strategy were discussed between commanders and captains, all for the success of any future battles.

Within this raucous war camp, slightly devoid of proper discipline due to the demonkins’ sin-desires needing to flourish, a furnished tent guarded by multiple soldiers was opened. A towering man wearing a set of black and gold armor strolled out. His face was covered by a helmet, for even when it was relatively peaceful, a general should never leave himself unprotected. Death could come at any time.

“We’ve mostly recovered,” he spoke.

“Yes, Lord Wrath,” a shorter—although still taller than the average human—man answered from behind, also covered from head to toe with armor. His monotone tone did not fit the energy-filled camp. “We have the course of our next march planned, in addition to the movements of our scouts and cavalry. The grimgarian mercenaries are also standing by whenever we need to deploy them, Sir.”

“Thank you.” With his curiosity sated he returned to his tent with his right-hand man, where they turned their eyes towards a tanned man with a lean build, wearing a leather-metal armor covered with a mud-brown robe. “What are your opinions on what happened?”

The armored man closed the tent and cast an [Air Shield] from a book—a grimoire holding spells sealed inside the pages. Once the spell was established, the tanned man spoke.

“Happy, of course! Haha, I knew it! I told you so! That little lightning bolt would never die to some Champion! Unlike her old man, she’s fast as hell and can avoid injuries!” Mud began to excrete from his skin as his emotions exploded, forming two horns on his head. “That’s our little Warbringer! Haha, Vifi is a survivor! She made it through that hellish—”

“Sakrha.” The armored demonkin interrupted the mudmancer, prompting the latter to sigh, looking down.

“… We gotta kill her?”

He nodded. “She betrayed all of us, and we have a responsibility to ensure nobody undermines Lord Wrath’s authority, especially if that one is another Warbringer. She isn’t one of us any longer. We must treat her like an enemy, and a deserter. It must be this way.”

“You always describe the situation in the worst way possible, you dullard of a partner. We weren’t particularly close, but she’s our goddaughter in a way, no? Our friend entrusted his adoptive daughter to us, and chose this random street urchin over his own fucking blood. He saw something in her—a jewel—and are we about to throw her into the pits we leave behind all the time?” Sakrha, the second Warbringer, pleaded to the first Warbringer, his expression filled with trepidation and dread of what had to be done.

… However, the person who fought with him for all these years could see through his deception.

“It has to be done. Do it quickly, if you can.”

“Ehe!” His frown turned into a grin, before a wild chortle escaped the mage’s mouth as his body jerked back from the ecstasy of the moment. He was wiggling around, touching his entire body and his head snapped unnaturally over to his general and master. “May I?”

The Prince of Wrath closed his eyes. “… Aide Lord Pride and Lady Lust in their mission. Ensure Lord Envy is extracted, either dead or alive. In addition, if you see Vifi’Yok fighting on the side of the new Champion of Aurena, then you will treat her similarly to a Hand of Heaven—kill her. You may harm anybody else, but do not harm even the hair of the two dragon princesses. Understood?”

“Do not want to be frozen, so sure, got it, my lord.” Sakrha left the tent, licking his lips clean of the mud dripping from his horns. “Gotta rush over then, otherwise the party will start before I arrive!”

His body began to deform as he touched the ground with his hands, absorbing the soil beneath him before everything began to turn into mud. With an even wider grin he dove right into the ground and covered his entire body with mud. In the next second, he dashed forward, swimming through the ground like a sand fish.

Vifi, Vifi, Vifi. Do forgive your ‘godfather’ here, but I do want to hear how you sound when you get crushed by my mud. Not in a spar, but for real! Ehehehe … A Warbringer versus Warbringer deathmatch!