Chương 50: Vol 1. The Church of Kaelreth’s Ascension: Part 3

Huff… huff… huff… Kareth and the others looked on at the scene before them, stunned. No one moved; no one said a word; what could you say to such… to this? The nave was defiled, scattered bottles of empty rum and wine strewn about, discarded vestments lying irreverently on the stone amongst the laywomen's clothes. The icon that normally sat above the altar had been knocked down, broken into little pieces. A glass box nearby had been shattered.

The parish stunk of stale booze, extinguished candles, perfume masking lingering incense—it was the familiar old sacred smell being desecrated by the new, pungent, profane smells. And lying upon the altar (whose cloth had been partly dragged loose and whose ceremonial candles had been knocked over), nude, with her hands swirling around her bosom and her legs splayed in a sensual yet flagrantly sacrilegious way, was Lady Ceryne Caelrune. Her body had a little bounce to it.

Her muzzle was open wide, letting out deep, purring moans; her tongue lolled slightly. Another woman, also nude, climbed closer to her; one arm reached downwards, and another grabbed Ceryne's left breast. Ceryne turned her head sideways and opened her eyes. She saw the shell-shocked women. She gave a playful ear flick. Clink… Clink… Clink…

"Is…" Selira tried to say, but she couldn't find the words. She averted her eyes temporarily, not wishing to see the sight, but then, a heartbeat later, disbelief forced them back, and in doing so, she felt sick. Held taut in the other woman's hands was a sheathed sword—the silverwork, the holy inscription, the jewelled pommel, all unmistakable—and she was thrusting it forward and pulling it back in rhythmic motions.

"Yes, it is," Kareth said through clenched teeth. The corners of her vision became fuzzy. The sounds around her muffled. Her jaw tightened.

"Well, hello there," the other woman said.

"My name is Talus. Care to join us?" Tavira stepped forward, her mouth agape.

"L… Lady Ceryne?"

"Yes?" Ceryne said. It was clear in her voice that she was trying to sound coquettish, but her typical ire was shining through. Tavira felt tears begin to consolidate in the fur of her cheeks.

"I…" Her claws retracted.

"How… you… you are a woman of the church! You are a woman of Seroth! You… you… I… I trusted you! I wanted you to become queen one day! I… oh, I thought—sure, you may have been blinded by greed—but you were a righteous woman!" Ceryne cocked her head.

"Me? There is nothing righteous about me. To think otherwise tells me you never knew me. I certainly have no clue who it is you are." Now Kareth stepped forward.

"Your Highness, I suggest you put down the relic, for your own good." Ceryne looked down, then looked over at Kareth, then back at Talus. With an ear flick, she said:"I am afraid this is mine now, and when something is mine, I do not give it away." She tauntingly lifted and ground her hips. Kareth growled, hesitating for a moment, just one moment, trying her damn best to keep her head levelled, before that dam broke and she reached for the hilt of her sword.

"You… you fucking heathens!" Talus snarled: "Your church already took my family, my name, and my fortune… I am more than okay with being pronounced a heathen by the likes of someone such as yourself."

"Do not get me wrong, cunt-eater, I am not of that heretical church, but I am a follower of Seroth." She pulled out her sword.

"And, Your Highness, I do not care if you are royalty. I do not care if you are one of our potential queens. I do not care about your status or your money. I will send you down to hell where you belong!" Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. Kareth charged the altar, her sword held high. She jumped up the stone steps and onto the altar table, where she swung. Talus yanked the relic free, seized Ceryne, and threw them both from Kareth's path. Clang!

The sword came into contact with the stone of the altar table, chipping it. Ceryne and Talus rolled gracefully off the far side of the altar, hitting the floor in a jumbled ball of fur. When they settled, Ceryne said:"YOU FUCKING LUNATIC! Do you know who you are attacking?"

"I do," Kareth said evenly.

"And I do not care." She pointed her weapon at the two.

"Give. Me. The. Sword. Now." Talus looked at the sword, at Ceryne, who made a hand gesture, then back at Kareth.

"I am afraid that will not be happening." Kareth bared her fangs.

"It is your death wish, my lady—" Boom! From the staircases, from behind discarded clothing, and elsewhere, cloaked figures appeared—four, to be exact.

"Oh, Seroth," Averin said.

"Mercenaries."

"You could call them that," Talus said smugly. The other Reformers unsheathed their swords as well. For a moment, everyone eyed each other, pointing their weapons at one another. Ceryne stood up and snorted.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Do not just stand there staring at them! Kill them!" One of the figures drew back her hood, utterly unfazed.

"All of them, my lady?"

"Actually, I think you should spare the skinny one so that… YES, all of them!" The Reformers instinctively formed up: Kareth jumped back off the altar, Tavira moving to her flank, Averin moving to take centre, and Velran and Selira protecting the rear. The hooded figures rushed them, and their swords began clashing. Averin parried her attacker before diving under and throwing a liver punch.

With her attacker staggered, Averin took the opportunity and swiftly kicked them in the stomach, sending them crashing into the pew. CRACK! Bits of wood exploded everywhere as the pew split in two from the hooded figure's immense weight. Velran parried an attacker, stepped back, then parried a different attacker. As the other attacker attempted to take her, Tavira intervened, exchanging blows until she managed to land a small cut on the hooded figure's wrist.

As the melee progressed, Selira saw Ceryne scrambling towards the side of the altar. She thought about the consequences for a moment, then snuffed any doubt out. That heathen could potentially be their next queen, and if she could prevent that… what gifts would the Great Mother bestow upon her? She broke formation.

"SELIRA!" Kareth growled.

"Get back here!" It was too late. Selira charged Ceryne. Ceryne turned. She saw the youngish girl coming towards her, fury sparkling in her green eyes. And as she approached, Ceryne's ears flattened. A genuine look of terror came over her visage. Quickly, she scrambled backwards. Selira's sword was about to come into contact with Ceryne's back— Bam! A hooded figure pushed her back against the altar rail, grabbing both of her wrists.

They tussled, stepping around, until another hooded figure grabbed hold of her, and no matter how much she struggled, she could not escape. As one held her by the wrists and waist, another held her head, not caring about digging their claws into her scalp. Selira stopped struggling. She saw the outline of the kneeling rail, then nothing. The hooded figure bashed her head against the railing. Bash. Selira went limp. Bash. Something wet struck the stone. Bash. Kareth tried to turn toward her.

A blade intercepted her own. Bash. Bloodied teeth flew across the stone. Bash. Averin's face changed. Bash. Bash. Bash. When the figure felt satisfied, they let go of Selira, dropping her onto the stone. Blood soaked her fur. Her muzzle had been reshaped into something that resembled anything other than a muzzle. Her copper eyes looked as though they had twitched one last time as a send-off before Selira gave up her spirit. Clatterrrrrr… Selira's sword finally stopped spinning.

Averin looked at the sight, her heart racing. Her opponent swung. Averin caught the woman's wrist. Slowly, she looked back at her, ire plainly visible in her bared fangs.

"You shouldn't have done that."