It was around 10 pm. The full moon shined brightly upon the utter wreckage that was once a village. A long line of light slowly made its way towards Rye, lighting up the area. Clarence could only gawk at the scene. One would think a hurricane had been dropped in the middle of the village and rampaged about. Only a natural disaster of that level could contend with the destruction present. If not for the fact that Boris’s territory was nowhere near the ocean, it would be a valid hypothesis.

Those of Clarence’s guard could not bear the sight. Instead, they looked to the skies. Noting how bright of a moon was out tonight. As if Ezekiel was taunting them. Gloating over the destruction wrought by his demihuman creation. Would it have been worse to arrive during the day? How could Zeyana's sunshine upon such injustice? Perhaps it was her will that they arrived at night. Unfortunately, her consideration was wasted. They could see clearly. They could see the bloated bodies that signified drowning. They could see the dry bodies that were twisted like pretzels. All was visible, so visible even the blind could see it. Damn, when did the moon become so bright? 

The only thing the men were thankful for was the inability to see each other's faces. As tears rushed down their faces, no matter how hard they tried to hold them in. Their breathing became ragged in the quiet night. The sound of strained breathing and the crackle of torches was the only noise to be heard. Just yesterday, the tavern would be full. The drunkards would be complaining. The livestock would make their noises, the horses neighed, the chickens clucked. 

Dante’s face darkened. He couldn't help but comment, “I fear there may be no one left to save.” Realizing his mistake, Dante looked towards Clarence's men. They were stargazing at the moment. Try as he could, Dante could not believe a demihuman, let alone a child demihuman could cause this. Unacceptable. Unacceptable. No creature of empathy could have done this. Only a beast. A beast that must be exterminated.

Peter, the worried commanding knight of Clarence, hopped off his horse and blindly shuffled towards his home. A few of his men tried to call to him, but he ignored them until reaching a flat piece of earth. 

Splinters thrown across the ground were the only indicator that a house used to be here. Yet, he had walked home many times, the steps needed, the feeling of the earth. He remembered the exact spot to his door. Peter subconsciously extended his hand as if reaching for the doorknob. Only to grab air instead. Walking through the "door," he gazed around. On the ground, he found the straw doll his wife made for their daughter. He weakly reached towards it and caressed it as if it were his child.

Seeing this sight, the other soldiers could only avert their eyes and look into the night sky. Many wondered why no one told them it was going to rain that night.

Scanning the area with his aura. Clarence didn't feel a hint of human life, only uprooted foundations, rocks broken in half, and bodies. He didn't dare to look towards Peter. Just yesterday, he promised Zeyana would look after his family. If Zeyana was watching, then she was a cruel mistress indeed. His men deserved time to grieve. Time to say goodbye before the battle. If they were to die before saying goodbye. That would be another failure he, as their leader, had made. And from the way things were going, he was bound to fail them many more times.

The nobles not fully caring for peasants only lamented the loss of human capital and good farmland wasted. Still, the land could be rebuilt, and to them, that’s what ultimately mattered. Wessex was not short of overpopulated slums. Many vagrants and prostitutes would gladly come out here to start life anew. Though wet, the foundations of a village were still present.

William approached Clarence with a start. He was vexed that they were just standing around like idiots, “The monsters have already left. Hurry your men we must pursue lest they get away.”

Clarence glared at William, “Can’t you see my men are mourning. We will leave after they have finished. Their homes, their lives, and their loved ones are all gone. Even you, as a noble, must have a shred of sympathy for them.”

William raised his chin. “I sympathize, but sympathy will not bring back their dead families. If they have time to cry then, they should put it to better use. You, as a noble, should understand the lives of commoners come and go. There will be more in the future.”

The soldiers hearing such callous remarks glared at William with hatred and disgust. Even William's own soldiers were sickened by this man's display.

William snorted at their undisguised looks, “Oh boohoo. Your little peasant wife died, or your impoverished child is gone. Some may say death is preferable. Better than living in this disease-ridden village waiting to either starve to death or be killed by pestilence. But the real issue is the way you all are looking at me. You peasants best not forget your place, or there will be multiple fune..”

No one knew when it occurred, but Clarence’s hand was wrapped firmly around William’s throat, choking the life out of him.

William struggled and clawed at Clarence’s hand to no avail. It was like a child resisting a full-grown orc. Both comical and sad.

Dante, seeing the act, tried to soothe Clarence, “That’s enough. He is in the wrong, and we all know that. Let him go.”

William began to turn red as the grip did not loosen in the slightest. Instead, it tightened.

Dante became frantic, “Clarence. He is a noble of Wessex. You can't kill him.”

William’s face changed from red to a reddish-purple as his clawing began to subside. Foam was now pouring from his mouth. He struggled like a dying dog. His eyes signaled to his men. But wait. It appears they had joined in the stargazing. What a shame.

The other nobles watched but said nothing.

Dante became extremely frantic. Ah, Zeyana. Bless this boy with a brain. I beg you. “Clarence, please. You can’t kill him. He is a viscount. You kill him, the crown will put you to death. I can't help you. If I witness the crime. So, let him down and handle this later.”

William’s face finally changed to a purple-blue color, and all struggles ceased. He was much better this way. Much quieter.

Clarence slowly released his grip as if hesitant. His roving eyes pierced the souls of all the nobility, “No one will threaten my men. Not one of my men. Not even as a joke. Next time I will kill this idiot or anyone else.”

The blue-faced William sucked in a deep and long breath, but his condition did not look good. 

Grey sighed, “Someone. Bring a healing mage for William.”

Clarence turned to his men. The harshness in his eyes subsided, “I need 100 volunteers to gather the bodies of the dead and give them a proper burial.”

Many men native to the village stepped forward. Some, however, were too weak. They were emotionally drained. Their hands wouldn't stop shaking. They didn't trust themselves to bury their friends and family. Still, they wanted to help, to feel useful, to communicate their pain. Those who volunteered understood this. They fiercely slammed their hands into their chests as if to express their emotional pain through physical means. Their red tear-filled eyes only now found something worthy to look at on Titan. They stared at Clarence with unabashed respect.

Erik, with tears running down his face, stepped forward as well. “It is my duty as a noble, knighted by his majesty himself. To bury the loyal citizens of Wessex. I shall supervise the burials and also send some men to search for survivors.”

Clarence addressed the rest of the men. After seeing how Clarence treated his men, they found a new respect for him, “The rest of you set up camp. We will rest here tonight and head out in the morning. As for the nobles, follow me to Boris’s manor. Perhaps some survivors and good news await us.”

A crisp bang of chest echoed through the ruins. The heavy sound of steps and the melody of life returned to the desolate location. Those who couldn't bring themselves to bury their loved ones worked twice as hard at setting up camp. Harder than they should have. Even the usually strict commanding officers offered words of consolement and volunteered others to finish the work. Those who were volunteered were more than happy to do so. Yet they were politely declined each time.

The group headed to Boris's castle. Upon reaching it, their jaws dropped in awe. The moat was completely empty. Not even puddles remained. This moat was deeper than some natural lakes, yet it was cleared dry. The castle appeared battered as if magic cannons had rained upon it. The battlements were forcibly rearranged. The only thing not damaged was the drawbridge, which was already lowered. 

Not a single guard stood on duty. Seeing this, Clarence already knew the castle had long since been abandoned. I’m sure that crabby old man left a message. Blah blah don’t fail blah.

The group cautiously crossed the drawbridge and made their way into the now decrepit castle.

Inside, the place looked like an earthquake hit. All the furniture was tossed about, paintings ripped apart after falling, glass from chandeliers speckled throughout the floor.

Dante, for a second, basked in the glory of it all. If not for the somber mood from losing so many human lives, he would smile. Still, he had to offer his thanks. Thank you, Zeyana. 

The other nobles glanced around at the castle and imagined it rebuilt under their own respective managements. 

Grey stepped beside Clarence with a smile and asked, “Shall we split up and search for clues?”

Clarence almost wanted to laugh after hearing such an obvious trap. None of you asshats care about the lost human lives. “No. You all shall remain here until I finish my search. I would recommend no one try any funny business. The monsters might be gone, but lady death is always around the corner.” The chill from the end of Clarence's sentence made Grey's heart pause in fear.

Annabelle giggled at the red-faced Grey, “Silly old man. My dear Clarence is much too smart to fall for such a simple trick. How about I accompany you personally, and we get to know each other?”

Anger became evident on Clarence’s face, “What does, you all mean? I’ll tell you. It means every single one of you will remain here. Dante, I expect you to babysit them until my return.”

Annabelle pouted playfully, “I want to be mad, but even when you are angry, you’re still cute.”

Dante sighed, “Fine, but be quick.”

Clarence headed off from the nobles. He went straight for Boris’s room only to find it empty. No doctor. No old man. And no Boris. He also noticed some of the jewelry was gone. Guess they didn't leave in too much of a hurry. Or bandits arrived before we did.

Next, he stopped by his room. Where he found the door closed and locked. I haven't seen a key since I've been given this room. With a kick, he entered the room and searched around. He noticed the door to his closet ajar. Upon entering and pushing aside his clothes, he found a hole jabbed into the wall. Reaching in, he pulled out a note.

Boy, if you are reading this note, that means you have returned with an army in tow. Due to unforeseen events, I have decided to begin evacuations of the town and castle. Lord Boris is safely in my care. And although I suspect you were hopeful of his death. Be content that for the time being, we will act as if his whereabouts and status are unknown. For the citizen death toll. Continue to act as if the losses were more substantial than they actually are. I surmise that a fair portion of the elderly and unlucky ones will be unable to evacuate in time. It is unfortunate, and the fault falls on me. But their lives, in the end, shall still be of value. I know you have a knack for failure, but at the very least, you should be capable of figuring out what to do next. You are on a time clock now, as the current battle will attract many variables. The enemy has retreated back to the cave. I feel like I have to say this. So, destroy this letter after reading it. I left a match in the draw.

Clarence rolled his eyes and went about burning the message, then returned to the nobles. “We are leaving. I know where these beasts have gone.”

Though curious, the nobles were shrewd enough to not ask. Except for Gerome, but a few taunts from Annabelle shut him up. 

The nobles enjoyed a quick night snack. While the army packed up and prepared to leave. No one questioned why they were no longer waiting for sunrise.

Dante pulled Clarence to the side, “What of Boris? Is he dead? Did none of the citizens make it out? Are you willing to work together?”

To these questions, Clarence merely replied, “Yes.” Waving his spear, Clarence rallied the army onto their march towards the lich’s cave.