17 Chapter 17 - Councils Decree (1/2)

”How did they manage to escape? And after the King ordered those elementals he calls 'Royale Knights' to seize him too?” the One paced back and forth before a stone tablet, the remains of 16's ashen heaped upon it. On the other side prostrated a rather useless Templar.

”He messed with our priests, convinced them to retreat! But- I don't know how - in the chaos, I lost track of where the Holy Knight went. Not until he appeared again at the end to flee, taking our prisoners with them!”

”And your ability with the golden chains, how long until you lose the ability to replicate the parasites [Crystal Prison] spell?” the One's white eyes flared to beyond erasure, pure nothingness swimming in the dark of his face.

Shaking madly, the Templar could only push his armoured head further into already cracked stone.

”A day, maybe less. I had not rebound her ability in some time, nor had I the Werewolf's anti-magic protection. Truly great one, I am so sorry, please allow my soul clemency for-”

”Artioche, Animogna, Arellia, Secundus.” The One spoke these words gravely, servants bursting from the walls in a sudden tide, the Templar frozen in place.

”My Master please, anything but that...” The Templar's heart broke as his armour was pulled away. Plate by Plate, mail, gambeson and cloth all. Leaving only the golden manacles of the chosen bound to his arms, the rest of him naked and small. They would not take the Templar's Holy artifact from him, so few breaking into the Templar class to attain it to begin with.

”You are hereby ordered to redeem yourself in my eyes - a one man crusade against the dark. Already a failure, you will do so with limited support from the Three's church, but may continue to ask the direct favours of the Three themselves. Find this fire-haired boy- find him and bring him to me.”

”It will be done, my Master- it WILL be DONE.”

Dismissing the Templar, the One allowed the servants to drag him away.

”One last thing,” he had them pause, ”some of our most zealous demon hunters have gone mad over the years, or if not mad at least borderline heretical. Your station outside of the church would allow for their rectuitment. I bless you with the title of Warden, of the prison that is the world. So go, Warden, and collect a force that will remove this blight from your name.”

The One smiled with white teeth as his Warden was taken away, plans already prepared for the most fervent hounds - humans, to accompany him. Stepping into a side room, the One strode to stand before a grand mirror.

Twenty metres tall, rimmed with silver faces in a variety of expressions and floating planets the size of his palm it was a mirror only the One could see. The One, and his own kind.