Special Route: Our Hopeless Crusade

I was a fool.

Alva of Valdeia, Exciser of the holy church, ran with the speed of a lion. The wind whipped around her, her hair swirling about like a tongue of flame. She veered between trees, leaping over exposed roots and rocks, with inhuman agility.

Such a fool. She grit her teeth, the muscles of her jaw tense and painful. But for a moment's mercy, and it all goes wrong.

She had thought her last mission complete, the cambion slain and the necromancer put to the blade. With the source of the magic excised, the undead should have ceased. And so, with memories of a sister's tears and regret, Alva had given the boy a proper burial. It shouldn't have been a problem, nothing should have come of it.

Alva passed under a low branch and burst through the treeline. My mother wouldn't have made the same mistake. But I was a fool, and this is the result! I should have burned the body!

The reports over the last few months had gotten increasingly grim. As more and more information came to light, Alva came to understand the true depths of her mistake. The village and the surrounding farms were little more than a blight upon the Goddess' land and, if the Farseers were to be believed, than there were no less than two Dragon's to be slain.

A Dragon, a special designation for a target that exceeded the limits of humanity. A Dragon, born of her mistake.

Four Excisers had been sent while the Church mustered it's forces; there was hope that they'd succeed, but no real expectation of it. Objections had been raised when Alva volunteered, but the local Bishop knew that only one person could realistically stop her.

The Bishop also knew that Alva was once of the few Excisers who could contend with a Dragon. So, she and three others went as the vanguard. Alva had split from the others, passing through the forest while they went for the mountain. The Dragon there was lesser, a Demon of Hunger; a Devourer, compared to the abomination that lurked in Barley.

The boy, Vhalnich. The Cambion, the Incubus. Raised from **** and sustained by his own nature as a life-drinker. The powers combining and making something different. Alva swore, looking up at the sky. A black tree sprouted from the center of Barley, countless branches of foul darkness reaching out and forming a shroud around the village. The land was twisted, the greenery corrupt, and the air filled with the moaning of his victims. My sin. My responsibility to make it right.

A dozen meters from the treeline there were a group of humans. They were naked and covered with raised black markings. Some of them had blackened growths, some were lined with tendrils, and a few possessed black claws and stinger-tails. All of them breathed hard and touched themselves, except for those who were coupling.

One of them, a tall man with spikes protruding from his shoulders, saw Alva and started running towards her. He led with his cock, a dark spire of ridiculous size, and shouted incoherently. Alva threw her cloak back and grasped the hilt of Absolution.

"May the Goddess forgive!" Alva drew and imbued the silver with power. Her marked eye came alight at the same time and Alva leapt. For a moment she hung in the air, shining with magic and with miracle, before coming down like a comet. Absolution traced a radiant line in the air and passed through flesh with ease. The line shone for a moment before breaking into a million specks of light. The man fell, his head rolling free, and Alva left them behind.

Trailing light, the Exciser ran for the border of the dark shroud.