An uneventful month passed by, and the lives of the family settled back into a new normality. Shigeo and Fleta resumed their full adventuring activities, occasionally away for days at a time to deal with particularly large monster nests. The three young adults continued their crafting activities. Grace continued to make unsubstantiated claims of spontaneous kitchen combustion.

Mostly unsubstantiated, anyway. She had, at Shigeo's continued prodding, attempted to cook a dragon steak. They had, eventually, repaired the damage.

Lana continued to avoid the adamantite, but switched from tier three iron to tier five titanium. The magical furnace, built to work adamantite, was more than sufficient to reach the higher temperatures required to melt titanium, and her increased level was sufficient to work in the harsher conditions, letting her continue to use her rapid moulding process.

Damien continued to work his way through the dragon materials, and had consumed half of the pile of leather. Unfortunately, it didn't seem that the dragon corpse on its own would get him to level fifty. He was, however, halfway through his thirties, and was enjoying the boost to his physical abilities immensely. It was obviously nothing on the level that a combat class would get, let alone anyone with skills, feats or perks boosting them, but it was still steady and noticeable, giving him a clear feeling of progress.

Greenhair was, as expected, the slowest of the three. He'd only recently hit level thirty, while Lana was drawing near to forty. Hopefully, the gap would narrow at the higher levels, when each individual level took more experience, but for now, he was lagging behind. He didn't let that fact bother him, though, and could now reliably mix low-tier potions. He generally didn't, of course, because they were weaker than what was available in shops, but with a bit more levelling, as the tier of potions he could reliably create increased, he'd possibly be better off succeeding at low-tier potions than failing high-tier.

Of course, as so often happens when people think all is well, fate chose that moment to throw a spanner into the works. A hammering on the front door caught the attention of everyone in the house. Grace answered it to find a secretary of the adventurer's guild, who immediately started shouting for Fleta and Shigeo.

"You don't need to yell; we can hear you. Where is it, and how bad?"

"North coast. Hit Whitehaven and is heading south. Unknown monster. Estimated tier eight."

Shigeo clenched his fists. "We'll be on our way in ten minutes."

They managed it in eight, during which time the secretary elaborated that 'hit Whitehaven' meant 'utterly annihilated Whitehaven, leaving a single digit count of survivors.'

"Whitehaven is a major port!" exclaimed Damien. "To destroy it before backup could get there, and not even leave survivors... That doesn't sound like tier eight to me."

"Wouldn't be the first tier nine monster we took out," grunted Shigeo, Fleta picking him up and blurring down the street.

The secretary, his part completed, slumped to the floor as the adrenaline faded.

"Will they be okay?" asked Lana, worriedly.

"This isn't the first emergency situation they've dealt with. The last time this happened, Dad came back with a ton of adamantite in his pack and a grin bigger than his belly. Not to mention the dragon, even if that one was a complete accident."

Lana remained concerned, but Damien had seen his parents rush off often enough that the sight didn't really affect him. Yes, he knew they were rushing into danger, but he also knew why they did it, and couldn't be prouder of them if he tried. They'd come back every time so far. They'd come back this time, too. The only thing that gave him pause was how nervous the guild receptionist seemed to be, and his relief when Shigeo had left was palpable. Damien assumed it was as obvious to the receptionist as it was to him that there was no way it was a tier eight monster.

He went back to his training, working right up until bedtime, then went to sleep.

The next morning, with the source-lights barely starting to shine, there was another thunderous knocking on the door.

"Oh, for goodness' sake," complained Damien, dragging himself out of bed and towards the stairs in his nightclothes.

Grace, ever the conscientious worker, was already up and dressed, and opened the door before Damien was even in sight of it.

"Where is Damien?" came a familiar voice from outside, which after a few seconds thought, Damien placed as one of the town guards. Why the heck was a guard here? Hearing someone pounding on the door and call for him by name had sent a bolt of fear through him that something had happened to his parents, but it wouldn't be a town guard reporting that. It would be the guild.

"Here. What's wrong?" he asked, groggily.

"You're under arrest for the murder of Darren of Greenhill, and for performing forbidden demonic rituals."

Damien blinked, the sleepiness shoved to the side as his brain decided it had best get a move on. Greenhill? That was Lana's home village, but who was Darren? Damien was sure he'd heard the name before, but couldn't remember where.

"Who?"

"Don't bother playing innocent; we know full well you're responsible. I suggest you come quietly; we don't want to cause collateral damage coming in there."

Right. The house was heavily warded. No sane guard would force their way in if they didn't have to. On the other hand, there was only one punishment for a murderer, and Damien didn't fancy experiencing a hanging first hand. For some reason, the guard sounded absolutely convinced Damien was responsible.

And the name finally clicked, too; Darren was Lana's father.

"I've never even been to Greenhill. And what ritual?"

"Oh? You're still going to claim ignorance? Demon summoning, of course. You carved out his heart and drew runes in his blood, in front of his wife. You force-fed her his flesh. I don't know if you thought she'd be too scared to speak or what, but I assure you, we know everything."

Damien reached the door, and a single glance was sufficient to prove the severity of his situation. The guard at the door had a partner, and both were fully armed and armoured. Six more were standing at a distance, and with them were not only a pair of mages, presumably to help dismantle any wards, but also a pair of priests, wearing the robes of Illumis. From the vitriol with which the guard was speaking, he obviously believed every word. They'd come for him, just when his parents were away.

Immediately after his parents went away...

"So, which noble is making the ridiculous accusation this time?" Damien said. "Or is this supposed to be some sort of revenge from the palace after I embarrassed them? I don't see their flunky around."

Would a last-minute saviour turn up to point out the false charges, using the episode as an excuse to take Damien into protective custody? He cursed himself for growing complacent, but the only noble who should be able to wield the town guard like this was Earl Gretton, and he knew better than to try something so stupid. Maybe it was the palace.

"I'm not here to answer your questions, murderer, but your guilt is assured by a higher authority than a mere noble."

So, it really was the palace. Or... As a horrifying thought formed, Damien glanced at the priests. What had the demon said? 'A murder. A lie from the liars. The undefended for the protected.' Had the Five arranged the death of Lana's father, then given a divine revelation that Damien was the murderer? If that was the case, it was no wonder the guard was convinced of his guilt.

"Look, when was this supposed to have taken place? I haven't left Thale since the ceremony of paths. And remember, I'm only tier one; I don't have the strength required to pull that off."

"Again, we know full well you have means of leaving and entering unseen. The murder took place three days ago, and no-one saw you around the town. Your parents have doubtless provided you with more than enough enchanted items to make up for your lack of strength."

That caused Damien to frown. The timing didn't match up; the murder was before the monster attack that drew his parents away, yet was close enough that he suspected they were related. They could have drawn his parents away with a false report, but if it was, they'd get there, find the city still intact, then come home knowing it had been a diversion. That wouldn't end well for anyone, not least because they'd likely never respond to an emergency summons again.

"Three days ago, I never left the house, and I have five people who can vouch for that. Two of which are my parents. What do you think they'll say when they get back and find you've arrested me on false charges?"

The guard swore and spat at the floor. "If it wasn't for you hiding behind them, you'd have been hanging two days ago. Luckily, we aren't going to need to worry about them anymore."

Damien paled at the implications. Rather than simply drawing them away, the guard implied it was a trap. The kingdom wouldn't do away with one of its eighth tier warriors just to deal with a single murder!

"Hah. That's a better face. They thought they could kill a dragon and nothing would come of it? Well, they were wrong. That thing's daddy turned up to express its displeasure, by means of wiping out Whitehaven. It demanded those two be brought to it, else it would burn the entire kingdom, and the king was willing to oblige."

No wonder the guild receptionist had been nervous! It was the parent of the dragon they'd killed? That had already been a tier nine adult, that they'd only slain because it had crippled itself. Its parent would be even higher level. Worst case, it was an ancient. Tier ten. The sort of being that had stolen the northern source-light.

The guard was right. His parents were almost certainly dead.

The ironic thing was that there was no need to mislead them. If anything, sending them there under false pretences was a mercy. Had they been told the situation, they would both have offered themselves willingly to protect the kingdom. They would have fought, even if it was an ancient, but they would have given their lives if needed. However, they would have been wracked with guilt the entire time, knowing that the destruction of Whitehaven was their fault. The lie had spared them that guilt. But it wouldn't spare their lives. They were very likely capable of fleeing, but Damien knew they wouldn't. Not if they thought more lives were at stake.

Whether the Five had caused the dragon to come, or if they'd made use of the coincidence to frame Damien, he couldn't guess, but this time, he saw no way out of the situation. His word against the Five? Who would believe that?

Or was it the 'Five'? There were priests of Illumis here, but no others. Why would Grungle claim to have given him a chance, if only to kill him off later? Why did they always have separate temples and priests? Perhaps the Five weren't as united as they appeared.

"So, Illumis has granted a divine revelation that I'm the murderer. And presumably the demonic ritual stuff makes this murder important enough for him to step in personally, unlike all the other murders that occur in this kingdom every day, which he doesn't seem to care about. What was this ritual supposed to do, and might I ask what the remainder of the Five have said on the topic?"

"I made it perfectly clear that you're not the one asking questions here. Now, are you going to step outside, or do we need to collapse that house on top of you and the low-tier pets that your family keeps?"

Damien was, at that point, moments away from stepping out, resigned to his loss, but the reminder of the others in the house brought back the events of Illuganasis. Never had just one of the three perished. On each occasion, everyone involved had been killed.

"And if I go with you willingly, Lana and Greenhair will be left alone?"

"Of course. You're the murderer here," said the guard, but Damien didn't miss his eyes flickering downwards, nor the faces of the priests.

"Would it change your answer if I were to point out that everyone in this household is capable of operating the wards?" asked Damien, using a hand behind his back to signal to Grace. "And that I will defend everyone in this household with my life, taking yours in the process if necessary?"

The guard frowned and spat again, but this time, it was one of the six behind him that spoke.

"Switch to plan B. All units strike."

"I suppose I should thank Illumis," commented Damien, as the guards drew weapons and the mages began casting. "Here I was, trapped between warring gods, with no idea who was in the right. This makes it easy. I'll take the side of the one who isn't trying to murder my friends and family."

The guards didn't respond, but sliced at him with their swords. Damien didn't move, and the swords bounced off the open doorway, leaving nothing but faint ripples in the air. The mages cast shield-smashers, which caused larger ripples, but the wards held. They wouldn't remain intact for long, not in the face of magic specifically designed to dispel them, but they would suffice for his needs. He'd waited long enough for Grace to have dragged the other two most of the way to the safe-room. They'd hopefully be out of earshot.

"A̴̧͆ŕ̷̥a̵̛͉c̷̫͋ḧ̷͜-̸̧͒ą̴͝c̸̱͐h̷͇̉a̵͓͂n̸͓̊ő̸̙l̷̲̊.̸͕̕"

The two closest guards stumbled backwards, dropping their weapons. The mages lost control of their magic, the spells backfiring, tearing their robes to shreds and splattering their blood across the floor as the raw mana tore through their flesh.

"He's trying to summon a demon. Stop him now!" screamed one of the priests.

"The ĺ̵͇i̷̛͜ȧ̶̫r̶̖̈s̸̻̈́ have lied, as y̸̰̓ö̴͈́u̴̧͂ said they would."

The squad of guards activated skills and feats, launching blades of force, elemental strikes, or just massively boosted regular swings at the house. Booms from the surroundings suggested that these weren't the only ones present, and other squads were also attacking from other directions. High-pitched chimes and whines signalled that the wards were straining to deal with the assault, but with the mages taken out, they weathered the attack.

Damien fell into something of a trance, staring out at nothing and not reacting at all to the assault directed his way.

"The b̴̹̃ḙ̸̀t̶̙̿ŕ̵̫ȃ̸̙ỹ̴̠e̷̝̾r̷͉̀ṡ̶͎ have murdered the undefended, as ÿ̸̟́ö̸̱́ṳ̶̂ said they would."

One of the guards held his sword up high, the metal thrumming with power as he charged a skill powerful enough to strike Damien through the defensive wards. The ground shifted beneath him, a mound of grotesque flesh where soil should be, spoiling his balance, and with it his aim. An immense blade of light carved into the house, shattering the outer wards, but leaving Damien untouched.

"The t̷́͜r̴̽͜a̸̳͋i̸̥͋t̷̩́o̴̬̚r̵͚̓s̴̹̕ have come for me, as y̸̳̆o̸̰͋ǔ̸̺ said they would."

The air shimmered and distorted, a blood-red ring a mile across emerging from nowhere and crowning the town of Thale, hanging high in the air. It rippled, great red drops falling from it as dozens of tears opened up around the full circumference, each one forming an eye, which twisted to look at Damien.

"And now Í̸̩ call to y̸͔̑o̴̘͛u̷͙͝, as y̸̡͔͌̌ộ̸u̸̠̇͝ said Í̸̩ would."

The buildings twisted. Windows were eyes. Walls flesh. Doorways maws. The air buzzed with the sounds of a billion insects and the ground crawled and writhed.

The guards turned and ran. They didn't get far, as ten thousand tentacles ripped through holes in space, grasping them and squeezing, human flesh and bones offering no resistance whatsoever irregardless of class, tier or level. Their blood mixed in with that falling from the halo above, flowing through the streets.

"À̸͉r̷̘͕̒a̵͖̅̉ć̸̬̖h̷̦̝̓̚-̴̥̰̓a̴̫̪͛̚c̸̩̆ḧ̶̻́ͅa̷̧̓ň̸̟̂ó̸͕̌l̸̫̼̅.̴̠͈͘"

The source-lights flickered, the sea turning red and the sky darkening.

"Č̵̭͋o̵̩̦͔̤̍͜m̵̲͔̟͉͓̂̌̓̈e̵͕̘͕̰͂͗͌.̵͕̍̃̅̓"