Chapter 4

By the time they reached the exit, wide cracks covered the sky, as if the world was falling apart. It wasn't far from the truth. The rift really was falling apart, and if they were still inside they would likely be cast into the Nether, never to be seen again.

It was a gruesome end that none of them relished.

 From the cover of the trees, they looked out at the rift exit, a swirling portal hanging in the air.

Ash fell gently from the sky, the frigid wind making the trees sway around them.

The bandit group's earlier excitement upon getting a lucky break had quickly faded, their looks grim as they looked at the rift exit. Several white tents with golden emblems were arrayed near the swirling vortex, each having the emblem of the holy order of inquisition

"Balloth's balls, What the hell are five inquisitors doing here?" Parcival hissed.

"They are probably here searching for their five missing members, you know, the ones you guys killed," Archivauld said.

"Don't act so blameless. In their eyes, you are just as bad as us," Parcival snapped.

"This could have been avoided," Archivauld replied anxiously. 

"Keep it down. There are only five that we can see," Yurlan said calmly.

"Only five full-fledged inquisitors," Parcival hissed." Isn't this just fantastic? We only killed that first one because we caught them sleeping. These five don't seem like such easy pickings,"

"Stop panicking, we have dealt with worse odds before," Yurlan said, giving the two a sharp glance..

"What if there are more outside?" Parcival asked, glancing side to side like a caged animal.

Yurlan gave the frantic man a glare that could kill. 

"We will deal with that if it becomes an issue. Now, focus up before I put you down myself," Yurlan said, gripping the haft of his ax tightly.

Parcival took a half step back, swallowing down a belly full of grievances. 

"Sound's like you have a plan, boss?" Tanur asked, his question slightly easing the tension.

Yurlan frowned, slowly nodding.

"I do… These inquisitors won't wait much longer in fear of being trapped inside. We wait until they exit, then follow quickly behind. The moment we exit the rift, we blitz them. That way they won't see us coming until we are right on top of them," Yurlan said.

They all shared nervous glances, the plan, sounding as good as any.

 "What about our cargo?" Tanur asked, gesturing to the heavy satchels full of Kassian crystals.

"We can't enjoy wealth if we are dead. If something unexpected happens on the other side, we can't afford to be slowed down," Yurlan said decisively. 

"But boss, this is nearly eighty silvers worth of crystals," Parcival spat.

"So what. We already each absorbed all of our Essence stones, and we still can sell the nexus crystal. That's plenty of reward for this rift. Drop your packs they will slow us down, weapons only," Yurlan ordered.

It was a pain to leave all the Kassian crystals behind after all that hard work, but Yurlan was right. They couldn't spend their silver or enjoy their gains if they were dead.

With more than a few muttered curses, their packs, bedrolls, tents and even food were all discarded. All they had left were their weapons to not slow them down. The wait was painful, the sky growing darker as the rift slowly began to collapse. It was agonizing to watch their doom slowly draw closer.

After a couple hours of waiting, Parcival looked ready to bolt for the exit, inquisitors be damned, and Archivauld couldn't blame him. The rift was collapsing, the world falling apart. 

The three towering volcanoes had long since disappeared, with vast swathes of trees dragged into the nether whence it came.

If they lingered much longer and were caught only death awaited on the other side. Only death awaited anyone foolish or unlucky enough to be dragged into the Nether realm.

 As if to spite them, the inquisitors waited until the last minute to pack up and leave. They waited so long that the bandit group was on the edge of charging them despite knowing the odds of survival.

Archivauld shifted foot to foot, peering through the thick foliage where they hid. A frontal assault would have been suicide, but thankfully the inquisitors got cold feet. One by one, the inquisitors stepped from sight, exiting the crumbling rift. It was not a moment too soon as a nearby tree simply vanished.

Archivauld's stomach lurched, and he swore one eye on the rift and the other on the encroaching wall of death. The moment the inquisitors fled the rifts collapse, Archivauld and the other bandits sprung from hiding.

"Go, go go!" Yurlan shouted, anxiety filling his usually calm voice.

Archivauld didn't need to be told twice. 

Clutching his axe in a sweaty grip he rushed forwards, the sky swirling, clouds of ash disappearing into the widening spatial cracks. The rift was falling apart behind them, terrifying spatial tears making large swaths of trees simply vanish.

The four ran like monsters from the depths of the Nether was hot on their heels, their treasure forgotten as they ran for their lives.

Despite the potential danger on the other side, none of them hesitated to jump into the now flickering rift once they reached it. It only took half a minute after leaping from hiding for Archivauld to leap through the vortex, the stinging icy air instantly replaced with the scorching heat of summer.

Going from the dull grey of ash to the harsh glare, and dry heat of summer was a shock to his senses. The vibrant green of the trees was a stark contrast to the desolate landscape of the rift.

His heart thudded loudly in his chest, his stomach clenching as the three masked bandits ran ahead of him. He wasn't sure whether he should be relieved or concerned that the five inquisitors were only a few dozen meters away with their backs to the group. 

The rift let off a high pitched humming sound as it flickered ominously, the sound masking their rapid footsteps.

Even so, one of the five inquisitors had his mask pulled to one side, glanced back over his shoulder at that moment. Whether the older grizzled man heard them, or he was just giving one final glance for the rift in hope the acolytes would return, was just as likely.

For a heartbeat hope blossomed on the man's face, a hope which was quickly replaced by alarm as Parcival's spear shot through the air. The older man opened his mouth to shout but the shout was cut off by a thud and a wet gurgle.

It was one hell of a throw more luck than anything, a throw that won them precious moments as the man fell clutching the spear in his neck.

Hearing the sound of a body hitting the ground, the other four only half heartedly turned. 

Even inquisitors, trained for years in the art of combat, could be caught off guard, and hesitate. 

Their moment's hesitation was all the bandits needed. By then, the three bandits, followed closely by Archivauld, were already upon the four remaining inquisitors. 

Unwilling to let the four surprised inquisitors prepare, the bandits attacked with speed and ferocity. Tanurs body swelled in size, his clothes threatening to burst as he swung his morning star with incredible force. 

Tanur only had a common emblem that granted its user strength. It was basic, yet extremely popular. With almost no drawbacks, the emblem allowed its user to hit much harder.

Attached to the end of a chain, the spiked ball of Tanur's morningstar slammed into the first inquisitor's frantically raised sword.

The block, raised to protect the man's masked face crumbled as the sword snapped from the force. The spiked ball didn't seem to slow at all, slamming into the inquisitor's mask, shattering it and the man's face with a shower of blood and teeth.

There was a scream of pain, and a flash of light, as a familiar holy orb looked similar to his own shot through the air.

No two emblems were identical, but it looked close enough that he knew the power. The holy orb wasn't Archivauld, but one of the inquisitors, throwing her healing orb towards the man Tanur just bludgeoned.

"Healer at the back," Yurlan ordered.

Parcival didn't even slow to grab his spear still lodged in the side of the old inquisitor's neck, but instead drew a dagger.

His body turned into shadows and he disappeared, looking like a shadow shooting across the ground. The healer, having revealed themselves, was unable to react in time before Parcival's dagger found the woman's back. It was a power Archivauld had never seen Parcival use before. It must have been the emblem Parcival won in their dice roll. It was an extremely useful and no doubt rare emblem by the looks of it.

The inquisitors were unprepared for Parcival to appear in their back ranks. She screamed in pain as Parcival's curved dagger pierced between her ribs thrice in rapid succession. 

"Hissa no!" One of the inquisitors shouted.

It was already too late for the healer, as she collapsed face first in a pool of her own blood..

Archivuald couldn't see the man's face through his mask, but he had no doubt the man was grinning ear to ear.

Her companions were too slow to save the healer, but had murder in their eyes as they charged Parcival. The slippery man did his best to block and evade their strikes, but it appeared he couldn't activate his shadow emblem again in rapid succession.

 Parcival shouted in pain as another of the inquisitor's sword drew a wicked arc, cutting a deep gash across his raised forearm exposing white bone.

"Archie, stop gaping and give me a heal damnit!" Parcival shouted as he deftly ducked a swing that would have taken his head.

Archivauld shook himself, his hand glowing as he launched his own holy orb. Able to fit in his palm, the ball of golden light shot towards his target. 

Even while on the move, the orb slammed into Parcival's chest. It was a direct hit, not an easy feat by any metric, but one holy orb was not near enough to heal such a large wound at copper tier.

A second orb formed in his hand, and he launched it immediately. It shot through the air, weaving amidst the throng.

He thought his orb would reach its target when all of a sudden, the holy orb exploded in a shower of light as one the inquisitors shot it from the sky with a wind blade.

 Archivauld cursed, immediately funneling more power into his emblem. One of the inquisitors seemed to take personal offence of his presence. The inquisitor moved like the wind, her white robes hugging a lithe body with wide hips and a slim waist.

Just like the bandits had, the inquisitors knew that the healer was always the most important target. Deftly dodging Tanur's morningstar, one of them, quick and agile, leapt over Yurlan's whirling blade strike. The strike would have cleaved through a fist thick tree, and yet only rustled her cloak.

The woman was alarmingly fast, a short sword in one hand, and a dagger in another. The slippery inquisitor weaved into Yurlans guard, her dagger bouncing off Yurlan's ribs as she shot past him. Archivauld swore as she made a b line for him. 

The air swirled around her, seeming to propel her forward. Archivauld swore. She was on him in moments, with the other of the two inquisitors unleashing an array of powers to stall Parcival, Yurlan and Tanur who were trying to come help him.

Forced to defend himself, Archivuald frantically deflected a sword blow meant for his ribs with the haft of his ax, pain blooming on his shoulder as her dagger found 

his shoulder. Hissing from the pain, Archivuald swung his axe in a wide sweeping arc. Bending like a tree under the harsh wind, she leaned back sliding under his ax, snapping forwards to swing at him again in the wake of his blow. 

He yelped in pain and scrambled back as her sword clipped his lead leg, blood seeping from the gash in his thigh.

He pushed down a welling sense of panic and tried to retreat, to get some distance. The agile inquisitor didn't give him any breathing room, her attack relentless as she dismantled his defences. Archivauld had trained for years under the order, to hopefully one day become a full fledged inquisitor.

Given her robes only had a shield and not a sword, signifying she was not yet a full member, though she had already been granted her mask.

Even so, that didn't mean this would be easy. Anyone who earned the right to wear the mask was no slouch.

To make things worse, his weapon was ill matched to her quick fighting style. The ax had always been Archivauld's favorite weapon, but it was ill matched against such a quick fighter with two blades.

He was well aware of this weakness, and thus had trained with many of the order's inquisitors to find tricks to beat them.

Sidestepping his overhead full forced swing, she darted in, her dagger which was held in a reverse grip thrusting down towards his neck.

Archivauld grinned, knowing his mask would hide the expression. His full forced blow had been hollow, a faint to draw her in. He caught her forearm with one hand, and punched the inquisitor in the face, hard.

She staggered back from the force, her mask flying off. It revealed a surprisingly beautiful visage. She was perhaps twenty-five, a newly raised inquisitor for sure. Blood trickled from her nose, and a fierce scowl adorned her face. She looked ready to skewer him on her sword, but glanced back just as her last companion had his head was separated from his shoulders by Yurlan's ax.

The other two inquisitors hadn't lasted long against the three bandits, falling prey in seconds.

Archivauld hesitated, uncertain what to do? These inquisitors didn't deserve to die, but it hadn't really been a choice for the bandits. He knew the others wouldn't show any mercy, but a small part of him hoped she would do the smart thing and run.

He would likely lose in a one on one, but there was no way she would be able to kill him before the others reached them.

In a heartbeat, they both came to the same conclusion. The woman, who he thought looked incredibly pretty, in a graceful, deadly way, glared daggers at him. Having made up her mind, she turned and fled, weaving to the side just as Yurlan's axe whizzed past her head, imbedding itself deeply into a tree with a loud thud.

"By the dark god's balls man, she is getting away!" Tanur spat, sliding to a stop next to Archivauld.

"Damnit she is fast," Yurlan swore, stopping in turn and watching as the woman rapidly disappeared into the trees.

Archivauld grimaced, hot blood trickling between his fingers as he pushed a holy orb into one of the bleeding gashes on his side. With the battle high fading, the stinging pain was finally starting to hit. 

"I thought you were a goner for sure. She kicked your ass, but at least you're still alive," Tanur laughed, slapping Archivauld on the back.

Archivauld grimaced as the slap sent pain through his body.

"Damned inquisitors… Thanks for the help, a few more exchanges and she would have got me for sure," Archivuald said.

Tanur laughed.

"No worries Archie, you can buy us a beer when we reach Carven," Tanur said.

Yurlan huffed at the comment, "We are not going back to Carven," Yurlan said walking over to retrieve his ax.

"What! Why not?" Tanur called.

"Because there are five dead inquisitors and four dead acolytes. That is not something the order will take lightly. We need to leave the outer band quickly," Yurlan said.

"Is that really necessary?" Parcival asked, sauntering over, his bloody tipped spear slung on one shoulder.

Yurlan grunted as he pulled his axe from the tree. "Of course it is. I don't know if you noticed, but one of them got away. Monsters could have been blamed for the acolytes dying inside, but that excuse won't fly out here. With a witness, they are going to hunt us down," Yurlan replied darkly.

"You are forgetting something. We all still have on our masks. They didn't see our faces. How would they know who we are?" Parcival scoffed, gesturing to the masks covering their faces.

Yurlan's eyes narrowed. 

"They are not idiots. Do you think that coward of a merchant who sold us the intel about this rift is going to keep quiet with a death squadron of inquisitors from the Silent chapter breathing down his neck?" Yurlan asked.

They all shared a concerned glance at that name. The boogeyman of the inquisition, the silent chapter. They were the most Zealous inquisitors, powerful and committed, people who could not be bribed or scared off. To make things worse, all of them were given the best training, and emblems money could buy, delving into the dark to protect the light. 

Tanur swore, punching a nearby tree, his swelled strength making it groan in protest. 

"What are we going to do, boss?" Tanur asked, his posture tense.

Yurlan grimaced. "It will take a few months, but we need to flee into the inner reaches. More powerful rifts, stronger monsters, and a much harsher environment. But still, it's safer. From what I have heard, the inner reaches is pretty much lawless unclaimed territory, with only a few cities that have managed to hold their ground," Yurlan said.

Parcival flicked blood off his spear.

"About time we move on to more lucrative hunting grounds. The outer bands monsters dont give high enough tier essence, I have been saying we should head inwards for months. I think we can handle the inner reaches," Parcival said.

Yurlan slowly nodded.

"We don't have much of a choice anymore. But lets not be stupid about it. If we head directly for Svarten, we can gather supplies to tackle the pass, then head for Aslo," Yurlan said.

"Sounds good to me," Tanur said, visibly relaxing as Yurlan explained his plan.. When Parcival Nodded in agreement, Yurlan turned to Archivuald.

"We only agreed on one rift, and you get your papers. But, that woman getting away put's a snag in our agreement. We cannot go back to Carvan, but, if you accompany us to Svarten, I will fulfil my agreement," Yurlan said.

Archivauld shifted nervously, glancing from the four corpses still leaking blood on the forest floor, and then back to the bandits. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Knowing an inquisitorial fist from the silent chapter would likely come after these bandits was not a comforting thought.

On the other hand, without the promised documents, he would likely be discovered and interrogated. From all the dark rumors he heard of the silent chapter, death would be a blessing he would likely not receive.

Being hung out on the spike rack or the dome for months of torment and starvation, never allowed to die, was just one of the fates some criminals had to endure.

He had heard of others being stuck in a dark pit, never allowed to see the light again. 

Archivauld shuddered at the idea. None were a fate he relished.

As much as he detested Yurlan and his crew, he would have to endure their presence a bit longer. 

"Very well, I will accompany you and your crew to Svarten," Archviald said.

Yurlan grinned.

"Good. Alright boys, let's go to Svarten! Gather the food, tents and clothing of the dead inquisitors. We will still have tighten our belts, buta two week trip through the mountains wont be to bad," Yurlan said.