The raw emotions are dreadful. Undead don’t need wrath, don’t need greed, absolutely no lust, never envy, don’t need pride. But sloth and gluttony are always exceptions. Seven sin? It’s all horseshit of humans, but it certainly helps one classify mortals from immortals. Humans have all seven of them, while immortals have only two. If you think that’s twisted logic, I don’t intend to make you understand. Exceptions exist among mortals? That argument is pale in the rotting storm of time.

Garlan had earned a thousand shins within the afternoon if I got the time right. That meant more bread for me, but I doubted he wouldn’t spend it on the alcohol tonight. Bread party? I knew better than to count on some phony promises of mortals. Even if the mortal was Garlan. Especially if the mortal was Garlan, I correct.

There was no sun to decide the epoch of the day, for the honest gleaming rock had started conspiring with the dark could. So only my rumbling tummy served as the guide. And it was right, for people had started filling up the stalls with edibles. I held the seventeen shins in my hand and watched the notes in Garlan’s pockets with a sigh.

Mad shouts rained around us as the men over the plinth rammed each other with gory fists that bathed the audience close by with blood, sweat, and spit. A few teeth too, but the latter didn’t stick around for decors. The shouts turned more serve accompanied by grunts and booing, and the people from the stalls glanced at the riots with evident enthusiasm. Children and women included, for commoners rarely got to enjoy a festival without being mindful of nobles.

I knew Garlan wouldn’t be done anytime soon as I saw him accept another bottle of, perhaps, ale from Cair, and he bet a few hundred shins on the losing man.

“Get him, asshat! Jab that thick bastard! He has been fucking in the outskirts indiscriminately for a while now. Show him who’s the daddy, Mukraw!” he shouted, and I watched the smile on losing baldy’s face, whose face was marred with swollen purple bruises. Sure, these people were in cahoots. I saw Cair kissing Garlan blatantly; both drunk and a younger man glared in their direction, trying to hide amidst the commuters. The stalker, if I wasn’t wrong.

With another long sigh, I ambled out of the fair to my usual bakehouse. The price for bread was lower in the fair, but it didn’t taste great. And neither did I prefer eating amidst the throngs of thick-clothed bodies. My lady’s cursive letters glared at me as I left the fair in the distance. The roads were deserted further away from the Academy, and even my usual bakehouse was shut for the day, much to my dismay.

Rushing guards entered my peripheral vision, their blue armor gleaming beneath the capes that fluttered as they rushed one alley after another. The houses decked on either side, the sloping roofs devoid of smoke from the houses for the commoners were at the fair. The soldiers were the royal guards of the second prince of Rynak, and I could attest to the truth even in my sleep after having seen their glare multiple times in the Academy. They appeared uneasy, and even the blue-robed mages who followed them didn’t seem far off.

I removed my cowl before their eyes fell on me and walked through the pavement, brushing past a couple of armors that pushed me aside without a second glance.

“Find him at all costs!” the mage shouted, glaring at the guards. “How could he disappear right before your eyes? Mages curse you! Bekran take you!”

I got no clue who they worshipped in Kingdom Rynak, but I wasn’t interested. I believe what I see and nothing beyond. And I’ve seen a lot, mind you, but never the higher races ever fulfilling the wishes of the mortals. Wasn’t I an excellent illustration to help you stop pinning your hope on immortals? Then again, there were always exceptions, even in my first world. One exception. But most of the immortals were like me, reveling in the agony of mortals.

The mage glared at me, his blue robe appearing imposing with the insignia of a… was that a dragon? I mean, I’ve seen many, but that was just too cute for a beast that took mortals as its playthings. Worse than me, for it had arrogance seeping out like its drool. Nevertheless, the important fact was that the mage was glaring at me, and he stepped closer; the cloaked woman behind him followed suit.

“A clad in blue robes similar to mine,” he said, suspicion oozing out of his azure eyes that contrasted with my black ones. “Did you see him?”

He was young, perhaps in his late twenties, and charismatic, even with his silky brown hair tied to a pony. Hand on his sword, despite being a mage, was a sign that this man wasn’t all talk.

I cast a spell, I die. I try something funny, I die. I don’t answer, I die. I eat bread, I die. If I wasn’t undead, that is.

“No, honorable mage,” I said, bowing my head politely, not daring to meet his eyes. The woman shook her head and nudged the mage to continue onwards.

“Tsk,” he removed his hands from the sword and carried on with the cloaked woman. I hadn’t seen her face, but she wasn’t a pathetic mage like the ones in the Academy. That much was evident from the way she conducted herself. She paused, sensing my gaze, and I turned around immediately because I had just found something amusing. A new conspiracy meant it was time for me to shine.

Yeah! I knew where the Prince was. The cloaked mages in the arena weren’t there just for show. For now, it was just a hunch, so it was time to skip the fair and visit the gutters of the empire. Demon summoning may take a couple of days, but there was no harm in reveling in the misery of royal blood. The thought undeniably brought a smile to my face.

So, after much deliberation and thought, I walked in the direction of the desolate western locality that had been home to mages dabbling in demon summoning rituals. I was close to the central plaza, adorned in colorful buildings with no lights of the night, so a short walk leftward led me to the decrepit locale after walking through the noble residences. Further south would have led me to the Imebero household, but I wasn’t invested in the idea of visiting Beth’s home.

As expected of the dingy decaying locale, I greeted a few worms who wiggled around the holes of the run-down tavern. Nothing interesting, except that they had grown thicker since the last time I visited. Were these leeches? I wondered, but I had no particular aversion to worms, so I let it be for the day without crushing the bulging tummies of the worm.

I jumped over the dingy counter and saw the same clean carpet in place. A peek wouldn’t help much, so I seeped in the details of the metallic door, searching for a latch after lifting the carpet, and slipped inside blithely. My legs tried to latch onto the ladder, but a couple of weak ones draped in the slippery coating forced me to dangle on my arms a few times. What the oiled material was…. I didn’t want to think about it. Ignorance could be bread at times.

There was no splotched blood on the walls like last time, and the mosses genuinely looked happy and content in the dark room. They probably grew here owing to the abundant life force leaking through the sacrifices; else, not having light can be detrimental to most of these plants. My [Devil eye] offered me the night vision, and I trudged through the passage silently, without any interruptions this time either. If my memories had been slightly deranged, I would have verified the date.

In the large chamber, I saw sacrifices in the cage at one end, with guards dressed in iron-clad armor shutting their wails. Probably hired ones from the outskirts. The mages were discussing fervently in the center of the freshly drawn incantation circle, and I nudged my [Devil eye] to move closer to them. The Prince was tied with chains, unconscious and weary, and I couldn’t help raising my lips. My guess was spot on as usual.

“…Prince!” A robed man shouted indignantly, softly enough not to attract unwarranted attention. He already did, but little did he know about the grotesque red-eye looming over his head.

“But we need a strong mage for the sacrifice,” another man said, his voice shaky yet stern. “Prince Jule won the tournament, so his potential is limitless. Since we can’t capture a cognoscente mage, we might as well make do with mages who have potential. It was Cormat’s command. I don’t intend to follow your discretions, Peley, but know that I am the Cormat’s voice. She speaks through me, and you are to obey her through me. I warrant no dismissal, whether you are noble or commoner. This grand scheme has to succeed; destruction of the capital is the only way to soothe the souls of her lost ancestors. For I know that the royal family wouldn’t bow down with just one strike. So we continue hurling rocks at the monolith until the raging flames in Cormat’s heart die down. Don’t forget that she is who you live for, and it is your honor to die for her.”

“As Cormat wishes, my lord,” the robed man acquiesced, but I didn’t miss the resentment on his face.

As for who this Cormat was, I would find out in due time. Certainly not now because it was likely that such a magnanimous master would ever visit this stinky sewer.

The mages around my [Devil eye] were wearing leather cloves like me, but I dismissed the fact that they were butlers. It was not a noble profession, and these mages had enough pride to not bow down before anyone, except for this master they served.

Now, if you wondering if I would heroically charge, kill every evil mage in sight, and save the Prince, thereby earning an amethyst from the Ryank Empire, then I have to disappoint you.

Certainly, free bread sounded enticing, but my lady provided enough for me. So, I’d rather see the capital go up in flames once they succeed in their summoning ritual.

“Two days,” the lord mage said with his quaking voice, his black mage robe contrasting against the flickering flames under the cauldron. “That’s all we would get. And if we fail, Cormat would offer us solace and welcome us back to her womb. This is the price we ought to pay for failure, and I don’t intend to escape from my fate. And so you won’t either, for we are the children of Comat, ones that are valiant and are ready to die for her cause. We would live in her for eternity, for she is our eternal mother, one that wouldn’t abandon us.”

Two days until my amusement takes shape. Well, the wait was nothing compared to a few million years. As for the rest of the horseshit the mage uttered, I was least inclined to filter. Mother? Eternity? That was one shitty cult to throw away their lives for. If this Cormat was undead, she would be repulsed by the idea of mortals worshipping her. She was undoubtedly a swindler.

All I wanted was some amusement, and if some cult offered it to me, I would gladly enjoy it. Who baked bread didn’t matter, and only the taste did. I hoped they summoned a strong enough demon so that I could spar with it later, once it had destroyed the capital. Though, if this was just another event for the heroine to shine, then well, I had to give up on such a bizarre prospect.

The mages started conversing about idle stuff, so I made my back to the surface with a smile. I had something to look forward to in the next few days, but locking up my lady in the mansion came first. Shem might get abducted, for these sham mortals couldn’t be trusted.

The fair was running strong when I reached the Academy, and Garlan personally took up the stage to showcase his talent. He earned quite a few mockeries, but drunk Cair was shouting his name like crazy. I am not quite sure what to think of their relationship. Was this all an act to chase the young stalker away? Garlan knew of better ways than putting up a show, so I didn’t understand why the crafty bastard had turned to a horny man. Or maybe he had grown craftier and suggested this method to grope some meat in his hands. Nevertheless, from my point of view, these folks looked like they would copulate right after the fair. And yes, I would become their worst nightmare for we had cleaning to do after the fair.

The guards of the Rynak Prince had reached the fair now, and they trudged through the erratic crowd, pushing away the commuters who dared to interrupt them. The two mages from before watched the stage from the sidelines before sharing a few grunts among themselves as Garlan puked out ale when a [Strengthen] laden punch landed on his stomach. He was sent flying off the stage, breaking a few bones of a commoner on his fall, but more cheers followed. I saw Cair counting more notes than before with a grin.

“Wastrels,” the blue-robed mage snickered and turned around. I entered his peripheral vision, and I bowed politely and stepped sideway. Another grunt and a few admonishments at the guards followed as they walked out along the trampling commoners.

The fair ran to the dead of the evenfall, and we wrapped up the occasion when the first mana lamp started burning in the vicinity. Displeasure was strapped on the faces of the mages of the Congregation who had come to witness the damages done to the Academy on accounts of the fair. Yura was nowhere to be found, so I affirmed she was under disciplinary lockdown. The mercenaries ignored the repugnant stares and got to work, for money was at stake. Even I helped out clearing the stage and deformed it back to the plain ground, but devoid of pavements. The mercenaries replaced me soon, helping out with plugging the stones back to their rightful places.

The clearing of the tapering tents followed, along with the paper packets that were sprawled in the locality. Garlan was in a cheerful mood after having earned some good shins, so he willingly took the lead to help the mercenaries. No orders were barked this time, and Garlan promised everyone drinks in the tavern. And bread for me, obviously.

It was about to be another long night, and everyone was drowsy. But the temptation of ale was enough to keep everyone awake.