Chapter 14: Prologue

Savage Fang – Volume 2 Prologue: The Fanatics Take the Dark

In a stone room where the sun didn’t reach…

Several figures gathered like dark clouds around a dim candlelight that colored the craggy walls with a shade of twilight

“I had not expected Pelmann to be defeated.”

From beneath the darkness of one of the hooded robes came a soft voice that sounded neither male nor female.

And it had invoked the name of a certain ‘face’ that should have been present.

“Were you really? As I recall, it has been some time since he was last in a fight, that one.”

“Yet his strength was unquestionable, to say nothing of his affinity for the blessings of our Dia Myrth.”

“He was not one who would so easily let down his guard, or so it seemed to me.”

As though to answer that first remark, a number of voices spoke up in support and in denial of the claim.

But despite the differences in opinion, most of them seemed nonetheless melancholic over their lost fellow.

Pelmann — that was the name of their comrade — was an instructor at the Zelfoir Academy of Magic, who used his position to quickly spread a certain forbidden magi-drug among the Academy students.

But the truth was, Pelmann held an important position among this cult, the Gods of the Moon. He was not only a gifted magician wielding tremendous power but also capable of calling upon one of the gods they worshipped to imbue himself with more power.

“Indeed, things occurred in a way we did not expect. It seems we cannot continue to make light of the power that abominable God’s Blessed holds.”

And that very same gifted magician was gone, felled by a lone girl.

That was why this group had gathered in this room today — because something that should not have happened, happened.

“There is one thing I remain unable to comprehend. I believe we all should know that Mylene Petyul is a self-absorbed, petulant woman who would meet her end even without our intervention. Why is it, then, that such a woman chose to fight Pelmann? If it is as they say — that is, to ‘rescue her friend’ — is that not at odds with what we know of her?”

Another man spoke up in a flippant voice, tapping on a stack of paper.

Hearing the man’s words, the neutral-toned figure folded their arms before answering.

“That discrepancy is something I noticed as well. According to some reports, it seems after a certain point, her personality changed drastically.”

“It must be the work of that accursed Iltania… How loathsome..!”

A man of a particularly large build raised his voice in displeasure.

At his words, the other hooded figures nodded in agreement.

The hatred he held for Iltania was almost palpable, a fiery denouncement spilled from his twisted lips.

“We cannot allow her to continue acting so freely. Though that body of hers is a work of that detestable Iltania, it is also one made so masterfully as to be perfectly suitable for our Greater God. If we are to bring about the resurrection of our god Lezevelk, then there is but one thing that must needs be done: Mylene Petyul must die.”

His tone was soft, but the words behind it unfathomably hostile.

Such words weren’t meant just for Iltania but also for ‘Mylene.’

“It angers me the more I think about it. Had Iltania not meddled even further, Mylene would have ruined herself, and our goal would have been achieved without any intervention on our part..!”

“I have heard that Mylene Petyul continues to train, even now. She was already strong enough to overwhelm Pelmann, who could call upon the powers of Dia Myrth… The sooner we act, the better lest our problem grows out of hand.”

“So what you are saying is — we should do something about her, yes?”

A bright voice suddenly cut through the tense atmosphere; its owner was a man who carried himself with flippant nonchalance.

“After all, she just went and killed one of our esteemed High Priests. Makes sense to be a little more careful, right?”

“…That is a valid point. She may be a young girl, but that is by no means a reason to underestimate her.”

But despite the flippant man’s casual words, there was still a grim atmosphere about the rest of the hooded figures.

It was obvious how serious they were all taking this new development, and yet the flippant man continued speaking as easily as he did.

“So? What’re we going to do then? How about siccing our ‘Ravenous Wolf’ on her?”

“Hm…”

Hearing the name ‘Ravenous Wolf’, the large man made a noise of discomfort.

“Unfortunately we are still in the process of… preparing him, so using the Ravenous Wolf is not currently possible. We cannot afford to leave this matter up to chance, as you very well know.”

As if to reassure the large man, a calm and firm voice spoke up.

“That much I get, but so what? Our Wolf wasn’t really worth anything at all if he just goes and loses against Iltania’s Hound, right?”

“Mind your tongue, Viktor. Besides…”

The calm voice continued in a deeper tone.

It felt as though the air about these gathered figures grew tense once again with that change.

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“What needs more worrying is the opposite: if ‘he’ cannot be controlled, then we risk going beyond chaos — we run the risk of returning to nothingness… You would do well to remember it is we who are at the mercy of that calamity.”

“Is that right? Then I suppose I should apologize for my insolence. But to hear you describe him like so… Why, I cannot help but want to see him with my own eyes”

The man called Viktor gave a light-hearted apology, answering with the same flippant attitude.

The calm-voiced speaker faced him in silence, and it felt as though the two were directing their dark power at the other; their clashing magic clashed, then dissipated like an extinguished candelight.

“…That will not be a problem. Your existence is but another part of the chaos. All is as according to our Lord’s design.”

“Yep, that’s what I thought you’d say. And you know me, I’m only here ’cause I’m just following my curiosity!”

A dismissive chuckle answered the mockery behind Viktor spreading his arms wide in cheer; there was no trace of hostility between the two.

“Well, not like I care about your God or whatever, but I do think you guys are onto something with the things you preach, and this world you’re all trying to build sounds pretty interesting. If it’s for that, I don’t mind helping you guys out a bit.”

Viktor placed a hand on his chest and leaned forward as though swearing an oath.

Some of the hooded figures snickered at the sight.

“How reassuring of you to say. So how exactly do you intend to help us out, as you claim?”

While there was a trace of revulsion from the calm speaker, they responded with the tranquility of still water.

And it seemed both parties had been expecting this moment. Viktor’s mouth twisted in amusement as he leaned forward in anticipation.

He had been waiting for that very question, and like a lead actor entering a scene, he exaggeratedly pulled back the hood of his robe, exposing his radiant, beautiful face from under it.

“I, Viktor Ludrand, shall personally take to the field and conquer the Hound. It is said the Hound of Iltania possesses a beauty that enthralls the hearts of men, and I would behold with mine own eyes this superior countenance that would become the vessel of the Lord!”

Viktor let out a laugh, with an expression of juvenile glee on his face.

There was an otherworldly allure to the slender Viktor that attracted the gazes of both men and women in passing, but behind that beautiful, glamourous smile was a murky, sludge-like darkness in his eyes…

“…I see. So that was your true goal.”

“Well, I still want to see the Ravenous Wolf in action if possible. Personally, I can’t say I’m very good at fighting, but I think I’m a little better at killing than Pelmann was.”

“Yes, yes, of course. Surely it is the brilliance and beauty of your methods that our Lord finds most desirable.”

…but that gap was true of every person attending this meeting.

After all, there was a man who spoke lightly of killing, and then another man praised such confidence.

And even the one who spoke in kind, gentle tones did so to give voice to amoral actions far removed from normalcy.

“Then, I shall entrust to you the matter of the Hound. Proceed as you like, for it seems we soon need not keep out of the light for any longer. And rather than scuttle about to reclaim our secrecy, I believe it is far more appropriate that we come into light with a grandiose entrance.”

“You can leave that kind of thing to me. Flashy performances are my specialty.”

“And so we shall. This matter is in your hands, Viktor.”

“Roger that. To our Lord Lezevelk, this humble servant shall dedicate the very greatest of performances. I have but one request: I require a single assistant, one with skill.”

“That will not be a problem. I will be expecting great things from you.”

Vikor gave a twisted smile to the affirmation. He turned and snapped to mock attention, exaggeratedly tapping his heel in place as he gave a breezy salute.

After a moment, he whipped around and exited the room, giving a happy backward wave as he cheerfully sauntered off.

“Claiming he’s a ‘little better at killing’ is quite the understatement.”

The neutral voice quietly muttered as they watched Viktor leave.

“Viktor of Dramatic Tragedy… Though your faith in our Lord is rather lacking, I find it admirable that you so readily accept and preach the teachings of our Lord nonetheless.”

The figure stood, turning its back to the round table.

Their gaze fell on a certain statue, one of a beast head atop a human body.

“All of life must needs continue to flow. A stopped stream is one that has stagnated and begun to rot. LIkewise for the living, blood must continue to flow, and blood that has stopped means it, too, will die…For the world to live, life — blood, that is, must continue to flow.”

They stopped and turned again, once more facing the other High Priests.

“We are the pulse of this world, tiny hearts left behind and keeping the world alive. It is our duty to put an end to Iltania, who would perpetuate the death knell called ‘peace’, who would bring about the stagnation and rot of this world. It is our duty to bring chaos about the world, and to let it all flow!”

The gathered figures raised their hands into the air together.

Though they seemed calm at a glance, under their hoods there was a maddening glint about their eyes.

“Praise be to the Gods of the Moon! Praise be to our Lord, the Greater God Lezevelk!”

“For a world of chaos!”

“Let it flow!”

The heretics had begun to move.

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