Chapter 53: Episode 50

Disclaimer: I don't own Nasuverse or any other franchise that can be found in this fanfiction.

Words Count: 4842

A/N: Surprised? Well, I got a trip planned tonight and uploading Ep through the phone just… It doesn’t work right so I got this up a few hours early.

Here's my usual spiel:

You can read about 20 Episodes in advanced:

p a tr e on . com (/) LiamThePoor

---

“That’s all you have to do?” The Witcheress titled her head cutely, and I had to physically fight off the urge to pinch her cheeks. “Yup, have a clear goal, relay that information to the Elder Blood and gently guide it. Unlike other Magics, the usage of the Blood is far more instinctual than theoretical or mathematical. Let your subconscious do the job, but don’t press it too much and you’re golden.”

“Alright, let me give it a go.” Ciri closed her eyes as cracks began to appear on her skin, humming with Mana. The tons of rocks and boulders I was training my Telekinesis with levitated, glowing a soft tortoise-green rather than my neon cyan. ‘Hmmm… She’s still being too forceful.’

But at least, it was better than yesterday. “You’re making good progress, Princess. Although you’re still compressing the Space around the rocks too much, try to do it gentler. Telekinesis is an useful Spell to have, but you must learn to do other things with it beyond destructive purposes.”

Ciri snapped out of her magic-induced haze, leaving the rocks and medium-size boulders to hang for a few short moments, before they all fell abruptly, sending waves of dust blowing out and upwards. The Witcheress released a strained sigh, which understandable. She was magically talented, leagues above Shiro and on pair with Rin I’d say, but her lack of magical education had caused her talent to stagnate.

It’s not like Triss and Yennefer hadn’t offered to teach her in the past, but Child-Ciri could prove to be quite stubborn when she wanted to. Thankfully, as she grew older and more mature, she had learnt to be more reasonable and less headstrong. Though I was certain having to rely on the Elder Blood to escape the Wild Hunt’s pursuit must have softened her attitude towards the Mystic Arts somewhat, and after witnessing me literally dismantle the Red Riders like they were disorganized children…

The same who had plagued her entire life, let just say Ciri was a lot more interested in mastering the legendary Elder Blood. Honestly, I was prepared to convince the Witcheress that learning to use the Gift would definitely benefit her greatly, I hadn’t expected Ciri to ask me out of her own volition.

It was a surprise, but not an unwelcome one.

While I might have been more proficient with using the Blood thanks to [Mana Manipulation] and creativity, it’s an undeniable fact that Ciri was far more gifted than I could ever hope to be. Having her work on the Elder Blood might– No! Would undoubtedly benefit me in the long run. “When can I learn [Spatial Shrink] and [Spatial Expand]? Those are more interesting than this…”

I wagged my fingers. “You can’t run before you’ve learnt to walk, Princess. That’s not how it works.”

“But- But, you’ve only gained the Blood for less than a week when you pulled those out of nowhere.” The Witcheress scoffed as I sagely explained. “That’s because my Specialty prior to meeting you was Temporal Magecraft. Time itself is merely an extension of Space, and the same can be said for Space as well. They are two sides of a coin.”

I stirred my cup of wine Triss had gotten for me. I wasn’t a fan of alcohols, in case you had not realized, but this was still better than the filthy, fishy-scented well water they were serving. “As for how I control the Elder Blood so expertly, I’m a fighter second, and a Magus first and foremost. I excel at manipulating the Mystic Forces inside my body. The Elder Blood isn’t too different.”

If anything, it’s far less volatile and cleaner than the diluted, toxic shits Gaia threw at us on the regular. “He’s right, you know?”

Triss, who was brewing a potion on the side quipped in, her gaze never once strayed from the swirling pot of… Purple? What the fuck was she making? “Listen to Leonis, you can’t rush magic, Ciri. That’s a disaster waiting to happen, especially when it concerns powerful magics like the Elder Blood.”

The Witcheress huffed and pouted like an angry kitten. I caught my hands just as they were reaching to punch her cheeks. “Fine. It’s not a big deal anyway, I’ll just have to master Telekinesis…”

I shook my head, returning to my books. I had explained my conundrum to Triss and she had given me lots of perspective on how to develop a Spell capable of dispatching Zouken. Sadly, she did not have a lot of books pertaining the manipulation of Souls. She had said I could try the Witcher Method to slay Vengeful Spirits and Wraiths, but those wouldn’t work, not like this. Zouken wasn’t just a formless Wraith, he couldn’t possible be slain that easily, or the bastard would have died centuries ago.

[Yrden] might prove effective? But it was too unreliable and risky for my taste. Unless I was certain, absolutely sure it could and would end Zouken, I couldn’t… Put all my eggs in one basket. What about the Philippa Eilhart– The Owl Sorceress, you aksed? Well–

Philippa surprisingly had a soft-spot for suffering little girls, which on second thought, wasn’t that surprising given the kind of person she was.

Sadly, she did not have any Spell that could put an end to Zouken’s miserable existence. On the brighter side of things, she did promise to keep an eye out for it. The Sorceress even said she would ask members of the defunct Lodge, some of which were once held at Novigrad’s prison, and had managed to escape using the chaos I caused. ‘I’m totally gonna call in those debts…’

Just not today. I didn’t need anything from them at the moment, and I shouldn’t waste their favors when Philippa and Triss had both already promised to find me the necessary Spell. I slumped on my seat, head swirling with thoughts. The Crones’ Grimoire possessed tons of Curses effective against malicious Spiritual Entities as well, but those required too large of a price.

From the bleeding hearts of children, the sacrifice of a virgin girl, to the eggs of dragons and some other rare materials.

The first two weren’t particularly hard to find. Japan in this Era was still a very reserved place, finding a virgin girl wouldn’t be too troublesome, but… I couldn’t do it. Although I was fine with being slightly manipulative, I knew for certain if I jump down this rabbit-hole, I might never get out again, and Artoria– My Knightly dream waifu would be forever out of reach.

I doubted Gil would care, but Rin, Artoria and Shiro would not look at those actions favorably, regardless of why I did it and how good my reasons were. “What a pain…”

I whispered. Why couldn’t Zouken just disappear? The bastardy fucker didn’t fit in with Fate/Stay Night at all! If you really, really think about it, the ‘Stay Night’ and ‘Unlimited Blade Works’ Routes were quite tamed in comparison to ‘Heaven’s Feel’, and they featured the Doomsday cultist Kotomine! If Zouken was that powerful, that ridiculously hard to kill, how and why didn’t he interfere in both Routes?

It just didn’t make sense… I swore, the Developers probably thought the game was too boring and decided to add the Worm in as an after-thought. I sighed again, rubbing my temples slightly. “What’s wrong? You’re sighing a lot.”

Ciri asked as she played around with the levitating stones. “Just- There’s this fucker I don’t know how to kill, and it’s pissing me off! Like, how did he not realize what that wormy bastard was?! Or did he notice and simply didn’t care?”

And by ‘he’, I meant Tokiomi Tohsaka– Rin and Sakura’s late father. That wretched cunt. Zouken was guilty of many crimes, but he was no longer human. He hadn’t been one for a while now, I couldn’t exactly use humans’ sense of morality to judge him. It wouldn’t be fair. Tokiomi, on the other hand, deserved to die. There’s no way, no fucking way in Hell he did not notice something was off with Zouken. If he was even half the Magus Rin claim him to be, he should have noticed the irregularities.

If he had, I wouldn’t have to rely on Kotomine.

The priest was the only person capable of removing the Crest Worms from Sakura’s deteriorating body safely. If not for that fact, I’d have murdered him in his sleep months ago when I first arrived.

I wouldn’t have to deal with his bullshits for so long.

While my unintended trip to the Witcher-Verse was turning out to be a blessing in disguise, my anger at the priestly shithead hadn’t abated at all. If I continued to allow him to live, it was just a matter of time before I died to his treachery. This event had clearly proven that even with Gil as a deterrence, he was willing to go above and beyond to get rid of me. Yet, I couldn’t kill him because a complete idiot decided to send Sakura to the Matou and let her be violated by the Crest Worms!

Without Sakura, Zouken wouldn’t have been able to sustain himself, and even if he could, he would have had to survive on a strict diet of those unrelated to the Moonlit World. Attacking Rin was tantamount to provoking Kotomine, the priest already barely tolerated him as it was, the old Worm wouldn’t be nearly suicidal enough to mess with her and Sakura, had Tokiomi not practically gifted the younger girl to him.

“FUCK!” The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. I was going to dig up that fool’s grave. Rin’s feelings be damned. I bit down on my lip, slapped a palm over my mouth to muffle a frustrated, “Son of a whore!”

I was so tired of reading up on Souls and Curses.

It’s just not a subject I was horribly interested in, and due to how abstract they were, the books Triss had on them were incredibly vague. It’s like I was reading through those Buddhism Scriptures.

It's not fun.

Not to mention, I hadn’t been able to focus on my own Magecraft whatsoever since I was reminded of Zouken and Sakura’s existences a few days back.

And it’s causing me to become very irritable.

“Are, are you sure you’re alright?” The Witcheress brought a hand to my forehead, her expression twisted in concern. I hadn’t told her about Sakura’s situation yet, for the same reason I refused to tell Rin and Shiro. They would come running to Zouken and get themselves killed. Triss and Philippa, while visibly outraged at the wormy bastard’s deeds, were older, thus calmer and more reasonable. “No, no I’m not.”

I was about to lose it. “How do you kill someone who can change body like he’s changing clothes?”

Ciri was silent for a brief second, thinking on the matter. “If it’s a malicious Spirit, can’t you use [Yrden]?”

“It won’t work, [Yrden] can only slow the targets down a bit, it can’t hold them if they try to leave.” I massaged my head irritably. “What about the Elder Blood?”

“What about it?” I asked curiously.

“You’ve said you should be able to fuse the Elder Blood into Spells, correct? If you use it in tandem with Yrden–” Wait, wait a fucking second. I turned to face Triss, who at last was done with her potion. She too seemed deep in thoughts at Ciri’s suggestion. “Will it work?”

“I- I–” She paused, then started again. “Theoretically, binding the usage of Yrden to the Elder Blood should lock the target in place. If you use Temporal magic as a base, it will freeze them in time too. But that’s just my wild guess, the Elder Blood is too rare, even I don’t have much knowledge on it… I can’t be sure.”

I grinned, I had the perfect tool for this situation, didn’t I? “What are the odds of the Elder Blood-charged Yrden being effective against Zouken?”

84.1%

“Fuck yes!” I jumped to my feet, excitement bubbling in my chest. I just had an idea… “What are the odds of–”

73.08%

… Holy fuck! It’s so simple I wanted to beat myself up for not thinking of it sooner. But, the urge to thank the confused Witcheress was much more overwhelming. I grabbed Ciri by the face, leaned in and planted a deep kiss on her lips. “What- What are you doing?!”

She shouted, backing away slightly just enough to show her blushing visage to me. “You’re a fucking genius, Princess! You’re so brilliant words can’t even–”

“Why don’t you explain to us what you’re talking about first?” Triss spoke, smiling icily at me, which I must say, did not suit her at all. My hands were still on Ciri’s cheeks, so I hurriedly backed away and coughed awkwardly. “Right, Zouken’s connected to his Crest Worms thanks to magic, and I have the Elder Blood…”

“And…?” I smiled wickedly. “And if I can immobilize him, shouldn’t I be able to hijack the connection? Crest Worms are powerful familiars, but their intelligence is relatively low. If I pretend I’m Zouken, I will be able to issue them a self-termination order. If that doesn’t work, I can also use that connection to locate every Crest Worm and kill them all with [Time Phantoms]… What do you think?”

“That sounds plausible. Have you checked with that… Divination Spell of yours?”

“I just did.” I was kinda disappointed with myself for not realizing such an obvious solution, but I was proud of Ciri too. I was so focused on finding the exact solutions to my problems that I forgot I was a Gamer. I didn’t have to follow every step, I just had to do a ‘pro gamer’s move’ and cheat. “I’m guessing it’s positive?”

I nodded smilingly, sliding the Crones’ Grimoire to the farthest corner of the table and stretched like a cat. “Good, now you’ll finally stop sighing and whining like a child.”

“Rude, but not untrue though.” The Witcheress remarked. “Hush, Princess. As for you, Triss. I don’t have to sit here and take this.”

I crossed my arms and got to my feet in faux anger. “If you ladies will excuse me, I have a few Souls to collect.”

Ciri waved disinterestedly. “Be back soon.”

“Don’t be late for dinner.” The fiery Sorceress added playfully as she returned to her brewing and carefully scooped out the purple potion. Her voice was melodic as ever. “No promises. The guy I’m hunting is immortal, it probably won’t be easy to capture him.”

My body began to glow with an unstable cyan light. “Wait, what do you mean he’s immortal?”

I gave them one last cheeky wave, ignoring Ciri’s question. “If anything happens, call me using the Communication Gem, don’t do something as reckless as blindly projecting your Soul! Toodles.”

The last thing I heard from Ciri was a frustrated, “I forgot!”

And then I was gone.

While in order to perform an accurate [Blink], I needed to have at least been there once, but Ciri’s little Astral journey had given me plenty to muse on, and I found I was able to do the same, albeit with great difficulty. Thus, while I rested at nights, I Astral-projected my Soul outside and just flew to my destination. It’s a very interesting loophole to the Elder Blood’s limitations actually.

I looked at the mansion in the distance. “Olgierd… I owe Gaunter a debt I intend to pay, it’s nothing personal.”

—— [Fate: DML] ——

Geralt hoisted the deformed dwarf on his horse and began to set out to Novigrad.

You are reading story Fate: Dead Man’s Lament at novel35.com

According to his investigations, Uma– The monstrous dwarf was a cursed person with tie to his long lost… Ward. It’s said by the Baron that the dwarf wasn’t even a dwarf initially, but an Elf who, by their descriptions, was clearly from Aen Elle, he had portaled in asking for Ciri’s whereabouts, before finally keeling over and succumbing to the Curse eating away at him.

The Baron and his people had watched in horror as the originally tall, formerly attractive Elf transform into this malformed creature he was now. Unfortunately, this lead was a dead-end, left with no other option, the White Wolf could only bring the deformed Uma with him to find an old friend and hopefully break the Curse.

Hence why Geralt was travelling with Uma fastened and secured safely behind his saddle. At the pace they were going, it would take them at least five, maybe six days to just reach Novigrad. Even the White Wolf, in spite of his supposed ‘lack of emotions’, was growing impatient. The longer it took for him to find his Ward, the more dangers she would be in. At one point, Geralt even contemplated leaving Uma somewhere off-road and returning with Triss later on, but…

The Wolf glanced at the silly, deformed man behind him, who was plucking wild flowers and waving them around proudly. “He won’t survive for half a day.”

The White Wolf muttered, a slight frown pulling on his eyes and lips. He was about to bite into the juicy, grilled rabbit leg when he heard the Elf yelp and scream in pain. Uma couldn’t speak, the most he could was groan and yelp like an animal, but he didn’t need to speak to signal that something was wrong. Geralt could only set his dinner down, and rushed towards the cursed Elf. “What’s wrong?”

Uma pointed at his calf where a venomous snake had its fangs firmly lodged into his lumpy, wrinkled flesh. “Hold on–” Geralt calmly spoke. “I’ll get it out for you.”

The Witcher waved his hand to cast a weak Axii on the animal, and in but moments, the snake quickly released its hold on the cursed Elf’s calf. As the animal slithered away into the nearby vegetation, Geralt wondered just what crime he had committed to deserve this.

“It’s a copperhead snake, show me your wound, I need to–” For all his bravery and deeds, the White Wolf of Rivia couldn’t help but stutter, cringing internally at the mental image of what he would have to do next. He sighed, finishing in a tired and resigned tone. “I need to suck the venom out.”

At the sound of that Uma, seemingly able to understand his words, offered Geralt his calf expectantly. “Fuck.”

—— [Fate: DML] ——

I came bursting down Olgierd’s doors.

Spells blazing, Invictus resting in my palm. “Olgierd, Gaunter O’Dimm wants your Soul, hand it over.”

To their credits, the group of bandits following Olgierd wasted no time speaking, charging at me with their weapons raised, hurling insults and obscenities at me. Needless to say, they didn’t last long.

I weaved through them like a Vengeful Wraith, Invictus splitting open their stomachs and spilling their innards. Olgierd, likely having heard the commotion downstairs, rushed down with his curved sabre ready, his gaudy Skellige outfit fluttering dramatically as he leaped from the stair railing. “Perhaps we can work something out? Whatever it is Gaunter O’Dimm offers you, I’ll double it.”

I must admit, Olgierd von Everec was a charismatic sonuvabitch. I had just met him, and I already liked the guy, but I couldn’t risk upsetting O’Dimm, anyone who did, did so out of desperation, and they never survived for long. Even Olgierd, for all his mastery over Demonology, lost his life and Soul in the end. “No deal, I’m afraid. He helped me, now I’m just repaying the favor.”

I bolted up, crushing the three remaining bandits with a spinning kick, their torsos bursting into a gory mess. Taking advantage of this, Olgierd– The cunning, curly-moustache bastard made for the door, teleporting away in a flash of reddish black particles. I was quick to pursue, blinking in front of him.

Olgierd’s swordsmanship was good, very good.

Once he realized he couldn’t get away, curly-moustache yanked out Iris– A sabre named in the honor of his late wife. A wife who he abandoned after murdering her parents in a rage-induced haze. In all fairness, it’s not really his fault. In order to restore his wealth, Olgierd made a deal with O’Dimm: In exchange for the Everec’s fortune, he traded away his heart. In truth, his Immortality wasn’t gained from the pact between the two.

It's a Ritual he discovered from mastering the Art if Demonology– Ars Goetia.

No idea how he did it, but if I remembered correctly, the Quests given to me had Demonology as part of the rewards. If not for that, I’d have grilled Olgierd for information on the Art, being able to summon Lesser Demons as familiars to do my biding sounded super useful. I was going to inherit All of the World’s Evils anyway, might as well branch out to Demonology to fit the aesthetic.

Olgierd lashed out with his shin, following up with a downwards slash aimed at my shoulder as I held onto his leg.

I snapped his knee and used his leg to push him against the wall. Olgierd didn’t so much as let out a groan, simply maneuvered his sword to take aim at me again. He laughed smugly, telling me tauntingly. “Death can’t take me, you idiotic imbecile.”

“I know–” I smirked, slapping his blade away from my chest and continuing. “But killing you was never my intention, I just have to bring you to O’Dimm and let him handle the rest.”

Elder Blood-charged Yrden flared to life beneath our feet, glowing cyan rather than its usual violet purple. Perhaps sensing something was off, Olgierd teleported out of its range just as the magical barrier appeared. Then, he slapped his leg back in a grotesque display of fearlessness, the appendage which was barely being kept by a thin strip of his flesh regenerating in a matter of seconds.

I said, twirling Invictus, head raising arrogantly. “Let’s see how many times I can break your limbs before you give in.”

I threw my hand forth, making a grabbing motion to seal the Space around him, but Olgierd once again teleported out, Iris coming straight and fast at my neck. [Quen]– The Witcher Sign coated my form in sparkling golden lights, exploding the moment his curved sabre made impact, sending curly-moustache sliding back several feet. I weaved an [Axii] Sign, used in tandem with [Mesmerize] to temporarily confuse him.

Olgierd clutched his head as his body began to emit crimson waves of magical particles. The combination of the two Spells just barely managed to keep him stunned for a second, but that was all I needed.

I charged at him, smashing him through four, five walls before he was finally able to throw me off. We both got to our feet, Olgierd brought up his sword challengingly, but I had had enough. The Immortality he had couldn’t restore his stamina, and I sincerely doubted it could help him shrug off a magic-induced illness. “[Finn Cannon].”

The first shot blew Olgierd’s left arm off.

The second tore straight through his leg.

The third opened up a basketball size hole on his chest.

Meanwhile, his Immortality was still trying its best to keep its host alive, constantly repairing his broken body.

Sadly, that wasn’t enough…

Olgierd doubled over, vomiting up his bloodstained dinner as he grabbed his stomach. “You–”

He growled, face pale with sickness. “Honorless bastard!”

“I didn’t see you speaking about honor when you’re busy raiding helpless villages.” I spoke gleefully as I blew another of his limb off. “[Ansuz]!”

Hundreds of Runes, each channeling about 200 millions Volts, took shapes over his head, bombarding Olgierd until he was naught but a pile of charred, blackened bones. Even still, I could see the Immortality Spell trying to fix him up into fighting shape, but I wasn’t about to let that happen. Let’s see if my Mana Pool or his consciousness would triumph over the other. “[Ansuz], [Ansuz], [Ansuz]!”

I blasted him continuously as he crawled towards me like a zombie. “[Finn Cannon]!”

His arms were both gone. The fact that he hadn’t been turned into a pile of dust at this point was a testament to the Immortality Spell. But, this was it, he slumped, unconsciousness taking over. “[Igni]!”

I sprayed another wave of flame at him, just to be sure. He didn’t even make a peep. “And stay down, persistent fucking prick.”

I grabbed his charred form, as flickering cyan lights consumed us both. One moment, we were at Garin Estate– His temporary Residence, the next we were at the Temple of Lilvani. There was still a few hours until midnight, so I slapped Dimeritium cuffs over his hands and feet, then sat down quietly. I fished out a piece of stale breads I had stored in my pouch, using the Elder Blood to open a portal to the abandoned building Ciri, Triss and I had taken over in Novigrad.

After slapping my hands blindly for a few seconds, I was able to find what I was looking for– The Crones’ Grimoire. Not for research or educational purposes, mind you.

The Crones’ Grimoire was filled up to the brim with utter bullshits and inhumane Curses. Every Spell was written in a way that would confuse even Earth’s brightest minds, it’s like they were putting it all in riddles just to fuck with whoever found their Grimoire. Thankfully, with the matter with Zouken and Sakura figured out, I no longer had a need for it. After studying the Grimoire for so long, I found it was connected to the Crones rather intimately.

Its cover was made from the skin of humans, Necronomicon-Style, but several parts did use materials from the Crones themselves. For example, the writings were all done in blood– Those Witches’ blood. With this, I’d be able to find Whispess, the Crone Ciri and I had failed to kill. “Where are you…?”

I closed my eyes, focusing on that connection and reinforcing it with the Elder Blood, and suddenly I found myself floating over a small cottage miles away from Bald Mountain. I smirked, watching silently as Whispess butchered a small animal, consuming its life-force to, presumably, strengthen her Ward. She had made a pretty nice place for herself, hidden beneath dozens of Wards stacked in layers. “Got you, bitch.”

I waved my hands, gently willing my body here and suddenly, I was back in my physical form, free-falling down thousands of feet. “[Yrden]!”

A barrier was erected over Whispess’ cottage as I plummeted and pierced through her Wards like a falling meteor. “DIE YOU PUSS-FILLED WITCH!”

Whispess looked up just as Invictus neared her head. Her face was hidden under a red covering, but I could tell she was trembling with fear, and that, that made me incredibly happy. Invictus bisected Whispess from head to crotch, her Wards trying and failing miserably to layer Curses on me. The Elder Blood was just too powerful, too potent to be affected by such weak Curses with weak offerings. I felt the bones and muscles in my legs rattle as I collided with the ground, sending soil and rocks flying.

I charged a [Igni] with Elder Blood, putting my palm on Whispess’ cleanly-cleaved body and burnt her remains to ashes. Again, just to be sure.

[Quest: Hags Of The Bald Mountain]

Witches, Crones, Ladies. These creatures have been referred to as many things, but you know what they are, pathetic wastes of oxygen. They have the audacity to Curse you, as a Gamer, are you just gonna let that shit slide? Or will you man-the fuck-up?

Reward: Exp, 5 Free AP

Consequences: Your Dignity

[Game Ver.a3.2]

Name: Leonis Magnum

Title: A Queen's Object Of Affection

Age: 8/21

Race: Human

Level: 14 (95.3%)

HP: 24% – MP: 100%

STR: Unranked – 85.1/100

AGI: Unranked – 92.1/100

DEX: Unranked – 88.1/100

VIT: Unranked – 100/100

INT: Unranked – 100/100

CHA: Unranked – 97.1/100

Points: 74.1

[—]

So 10% Exp and a new Skill? Not a bad gain, not at all. I was already at 85.3% from killing Eredin and Radovid. Those two also gave me five AP each, likely due to their importance to the Witcher-Verse. But, they hadn’t given me any Skill. To be fair, they weren’t that hard, which was probably why the Rewards for defeating them were so little. The Crones were even less. Attribute Points were incredibly hard to gain, compared that to a Skill…

Oh-well, better than nothing, I supposed. “I’ll check that out later, I can’t linger.”

I shouldn’t waste more time here, if Olgierd woke up and escaped, I wouldn’t know who to cry to. Thus, using [Blink], I returned to the Temple of Lilvani, where curly-moustache was still sleeping soundly, his injuries having all healed. “Fuck, I want that…”

No matter, Demonology– Ars Goetia was in my grasp, I simply had to be patient. I leaned on a broken wall, eyes darting left and right in boredom, sighing. “When will O’Dimm arrive?”

You can find story with these keywords: Fate: Dead Man’s Lament, Read Fate: Dead Man’s Lament, Fate: Dead Man’s Lament novel, Fate: Dead Man’s Lament book, Fate: Dead Man’s Lament story, Fate: Dead Man’s Lament full, Fate: Dead Man’s Lament Latest Chapter