“This was a triumph.

I'm making a note here:

HUGE SUCCESS.

It's hard to overstate

My satisfaction.“

I hummed as burly craftsmen, chefs, alchemists, clerks, salesmen, adventurers and various other market-attendees approached me and bowed, offering their services for free or at a discount to help protect the city. I told them all to follow me into the Bell Lake cavern if they wish to aid my goals.

Questions poured from all sides and I started to feel a bit nauseous from being practically out of Qi and the gathering, ever-growing crowd. Neither of my personalities were very good at dealing with huge crowds. This amount of attention was too much for my liking. I felt like a big-shot celebrity that was being harassed by paparazzis, barely resisting the urge to cower and run.

“Was it you that warned us of the Deathstorm convergence?” An old woman in a dirty, yellow robe cried.

“Yes.” I nodded at her, barely able to keep it together.

It’s just a crowd, Ash. This is fine. Don’t freak out. Don’t have a panic attack...

“Saint! She is a true saint! The one that’s been prophesied to save us! So young, yet so noble! One that’s come to protect us from the Deathstorm!” She wept loudly, falling to her knees and kissing the ground where I stood.

I had no idea what she was talking about. There was no such prophecy. She probably just wanted to be a part of the pandemonium. A few more people in the crowd started to scream about the prophesied arrival of the divinely-blessed Saint that would protect the Gold city. They started to push others aside, trying to get to where I stood. I started to feel concerned for my life.

[Stress-induced, memetic mass-hysteria. A form of collective behaviour. Crowds got like this sometimes in the stress and excitement of an event,] the Pharmacist recalled the absurd Dancing plague of 1518. [Twenty first century historians speculated that the dancing plague that went on for a few days straight in the Holy Roman Empire was "stress-induced psychosis" on a mass level. The French region where the people had been afflicted with the Dancing plague was riddled with starvation and disease and the inhabitants tended to be very superstitious.]

The crowd buzzed with louder declarations and questions trying to out-shout each other. I was no longer able to hear their demands. Too many people were talking and yelling at the same time. The mid-day gong resounded from the cult compound towers. Damn it. I spent too much time playing with the archangel.

I was going to be fashionably late to my own meeting!

“Mr Murr,” I turned and yelled at my long servitor friend, “Please lift me, Celes and Anathema up! I don’t want to be late for our meeting at Bell lake!”

Thankfully, I had planned ahead for this exact scenario and had placed a mounted seat atop Ludj this morning. The seat was an artifact that Celes and I found in the catacomb storage area. It fit on Ludj somewhat okay. When I looked the artifact over I noted that it contained a tiny beast core that powered it, which made sure that the seat did not sink into our phantom steed.

The long-servitor nodded, his long arm unfolding and grabbing me. He bowed his head down to make room and gently lowered me onto the gaudy leather mount atop his long neck. Next he picked up Celes and added her behind me. Arianna came next with a squeal. She did not enjoy being plucked out of her hiding spot behind the abandoned marketplace stall.

“But there's no sense crying

Over every mistake.

You just keep on trying

Till you run out of cake."

I hummed even louder, trying to ignore the crowd below that kept yelling questions or praises out at me. Celes hugged me, intensifying her serenity ray. I felt marginally better, but my heart was still beating a million miles a minute. It’s not everyday that you get to talk to a seraphim and live to bathe in excessive fame and glory after, causing a mass-hysteria event.

Ludj stood up, unfolding more of his concealed kneecaps and we were suddenly lifted about five meters above the crowd. I was thankful for his ability to unfold like that. Being a tall servitor was handy for cutting leaves from bigger trees.

I was still recovering from the Kiss of Celesteel and my tiredness was catching up to me. I sang the words of the song out loud to drown out the noises of the crowd below us.

“And the Science gets done.

And you make a neat gun.

For the people who are

Still alive."

“Hey…. gun! I know that word. Is this one of the songs of your ancient warrior-people?” Celes asked.

“Yeah, sure, let's go with that.” I shot back.

"Ludj, go that-a-way!" I pointed and the Servitor phantom walked through the crowd like it wasn't even there, his giant steps quickly taking us away from the marketplace towards Central Park.

“What’s wrong? You’re shaking…” Celes asked.

“Tired. Stressed. Don’t like big crowds yelling things at me. Kinda scared that a high-cultivator will show up and slap me out of existence..."

“Oh ho ho, the so-called-chosen-one is afraid of crowds,” Arianna commented.

“...Got stabbed by an idiot, almost died last night cuz someone was hoarding the antidote,” I retorted.

“You deser - aeEeeeckk!” Arianna yelped as Celes furiously spun around and slapped her.

“How… how dare you?” The highborn hissed like an angry cat, rubbing a red handprint on her cheek.

“There’s more where that came from!” The kitsune bared her teeth. “You will learn to be respectful to Ash or so help me Boundless-Chorus, I will...!”

“Guys, no fighting on Ludj - I don’t want one of you to fall off and break a leg," I tiredly admonished the pair.

"She hit me!" Arianna declared.

"Because you are turning into an arrogant young master! Be nice, or I swear I will make Ludj carry you in his mouth by your scruff... like a little kitten! Do you want to be a kitten?" I inquired. "Do I need to rename you to Kittianne?"

The ginger noble fell silent.

"Thought so." I exhaled. "Ludj? See that waterfall yonder? Head for it!"

“...Ash?” Celes asked, after looking back to make sure that the crowd was far behind us.

“Yes?” I yawned.

“How are you going to convince the Guild leaders that you’re a high-cultivator? Anyone… with Qi-sight is going to see your…” Her voice fell.

“My what now?”

“Your damaged Dantian. Your chakras look discolored, weak… they weren’t that bright to begin with and after that damn celesteel curse…”

“Oh,” I waved her off. “I’ll just be honest.”

“I don’t…” She blinked. “What?”

“There is time for deception and there’s time for the truth. I’ll be totally honest. Kittianne is right - the Guild Heads will likely have truth-readers and other fancy experts. It’s also possible that someone from the cult will be there too. Lying to them will be impossible. Luckily, I don’t have to lie anymore.”

“You don’t?”

“No,” I replied. “Look, don’t worry about it. I’ll see how it goes and behave accordingly. Improvisation! Just remember to smile, back me up and nod wisely to whatever I say.”

“I can do that.” She nodded.

Arianna made a grumpy noise from behind Celes.

“You too, princess. Just smile and nod… because if you don’t - all three of us will die. Your future is tied to mine now - don’t you forget it.”

“Oh… I know,” Arianna spoke through gritted teeth.

“Good,” I affirmed.

Our Servitor mount arrived at the waterfall and ducked under it, folded down and started to descend the ancient stone stairwell into the depths of the earth.

-=[Violet Lillian - Head of the Thieves and Concubines Guild]=-

Lady Lillian stood at the edge of the Bell lake, tapping her foot impatiently. It wasn’t too difficult of a trip from her underground brothels and she had two of her best bodyguards with her, armed with hunter servitors in case this was some sort of a trap. This was a personal matter for her of great concern, because Ash Sparks was her property.

Lillian thought of the sixteen-year-old thief, rolling the memories over in her mind. Ash Sparks had never shown devotion to the cult nor did she sing prayers to Lord Boundless. Lillian never saw the girl meditate, fight or train properly. All of the little thief’s skills were about evasion, she had no aptitude for violence. There was nothing in the silver-blue haired girl that would suggest a talent for cultivation! Ash was the least compatible person for such a difficult and not to mention expensive path.

Ash was an absolute loner, terrible at obeying orders and even worse at working with teammates. She had none of the essential skills that were a necessity to become a Hunter or Adventurer to acquire strong beast cores and there was no way that someone as weak as her could steal a core from a high cultivator and live. How could someone like her even afford cultivation pills, herbs or beast cores? Cultivation couldn't be done alone. It relied on having an experienced Master, financial backing and a support network like the cult compound.

The whole idea that the malnourished, homeless waif somehow magically turned into a high-cultivator was utterly preposterous and yet far too many people believed in it to simply ignore the matter. Lillian couldn't make heads or tails of the story that Reaper Niels told her. None of it made any sense and yet the man wasn’t lying. He really believed that the nearly worthless girl with one of the dimmest Dantians Lillian had seen was somehow in control of a servitor that bit through celesteel!

Lady Lillian had enough of waiting. It was already past noon and it was clear that Ash wasn’t coming. She turned to the other Guild reps and Heads and spoke.

“Fess up - which one of you assholes started this buyers’ panic? Was it you, Jovius? Is this another one of your plots to shake up the market to raise prices?” Lillian singled out a round, blonde man in the middle of the group.

“What?!” Jovius Macaria, the Head of the Merchants Guild barked back. “I would never! You think I want the cult to come down upon me like a wall of bricks? Are you mad?!”

“As far as our Guild is aware, it's your moths that have been spreading the word of the Deathstorm Convergence all throughout the night,” the Adventurers Guild secretary Emerald Glimmer commented.

“Why in the ninety-nine hells would I want this sort of madness?” Lady Lillian yelled.

“Maybe so your moths can pawn off more things from my warehouses or shops?” Jovius spat. “You think I don’t know how you work?”

“That would be a mighty high price to pay for a few burglaries! Do you think I would want to agitate the cult? I don’t want the Immortals barging into my brothels smashing things up.” Lillian shook her head. “They can punch straight through celesteel-reinforced doors and turn my defenceless butterflies into blood puddles in seconds.”

“Secondary confirmation came from Niels Barberman, a member of the Barbers Guild.” Emerald noted, nodding at Niels who stood on the side of the lake, water ripples reflections dancing on his black cloak.

Lillian swallowed trying to conceal her rage. Niels worked for her as a Reaper. She had been thrice betrayed last night. First the lowly pinkie somehow magically turned into a high-cultivator, then the Hand Gang went outside of her control spreading Convergence rumours and now Niels added fuel to the fire.

“The Barbers have no interest in causing mayhem.” Clint Potatius, the Head of the Surgeon Barbers Guild, tapped his wooden cane on the rocks beneath his feet, readjusting a glass artifact on his nose. “People forget about haircuts, teeth and ailments when Convergence looms.”

“Ah, but what of your apothecary sales, Clint? Everyone is stocking up on your cure-all tonics and burn creams,” Jovius pointed out. “People are hoarding them like mad.”

“Yeah!” Lillian joined in, trying to redirect the blame. “You think we haven’t seen the signs you’ve put up on the Barbershops? ‘Prep for convergence, Buy cure-all tonics!’ Those things don’t even cure anything! They’re mostly rum, morphia-grass and water!”

“It’s called catching the beast by its horns,” Clint sputtered. “Look, you’re all doing it! Don’t tell me you’re not! Your moths are stealing purses from distracted, angry shoppers standing in lines. Undoubtedly tonight your brothels will be full of fools getting drunk and laid to chase away their fears.”

“Indeed! This was all started by Ash Sparks! A moth of Lady Lillian!” Jovius suddenly declared, wielding the crowd with his booming voice that he reinforced with his Qi. “I hold the Thieves Guild responsible!”

Other Guild Heads and reps joined in, focusing their irritation onto Lillian. Insults and accusations flew left and right, most of them now aimed in her direction. Swords could carve her bones, but it was these accusations that were destroying her reputation which wasn’t that pure to begin with. Lillian’s bodyguards could not deflect the truth of the matter. If all of the Guilds united against her, her businesses would burn. Lady Lillian squeezed her hands, thinking of a thousand ways to punish insolent Ash Sparks when she would finally find the damn girl that started it all.