Chapter XIV The Scarlet Soiree Epilogue

Picture this: a vibrant, sunny day dawning over Las Cuevas City, three decades ago. Amidst the escalating tensions among the Dukes, the ordinary folks there couldn't care less about it. The fuss all began with the Mourndread faction, trying to seize power from the Chasewalkers in running the Grand Duchy's government. Well, I can't entirely blame them. The reins of the Grand Duchy have mostly been held by the Nethermores, the Chasewalkers, and the Al-Sahaabs. These houses share distant connections with others like the Casoiis, Kabooguangs, Kaiserins, DaClissaunts, and Zudarius. They also maintain alliances with the Nowblinds, Toppitons, DeWaques, and Harpoons, leaving the Ghastleys and the Mourndreads lagging behind in popularity—mostly because they're seen as a bunch of jerks. Haha! Still, they were determined to push their political agenda within the Grand Duchy.

Whispers in the wind hinted that the Ghastleys and Mourndreads were getting support from the Mittelmeerwuste Authorities, plotting to yank the Grand Duchy of Tandaya away from the Adamantean Table. But their efforts fell flat on their faces. They lacked the backing of the other Dukes, and despite their treasonous intentions, the Murder of Crows—a sort of law enforcement—couldn't haul them in due to insufficient evidence. So here it is, in their bid to undermine the power and influence of the Nethermores, Chasewalkers, and Al-Sahaabs, they orchestrated what is now known as the Scarlet Soiree. Imagine a time just before the Winter Solstice—days coined as the prelude to winter's hush. In Tandaya, the locals commemorate the arrival of the Scarlet Lady, a goddess from the Realm of the Dead, as she crosses over to our world. This annual event, named the Scarlet Festival of Tandaya, is a vibrant carnival with an enigmatic history lurking beneath its colorful exterior. People from all corners of Midgard flock here to witness the grand spectacle and join in the festivities. For the Tandaya natives, it's more than just a party; it involves blood sacrifices, ranging from humble chickens to hefty oxen. They believe these offerings appease the death goddess, known as the Scarlet Lady, granting them the fulfillment of their heart's desires.

And then, in a twist that defied imagination, the unthinkable unfolded. The Mourndreads extended invitations not only to the Royal Court of the Nethermores, Chasewalkers, and Al-Sahaabs, but also to their Commanders and Armies. But that wasn't all—the invitation list expanded to include the Royal Courts and Commanders of other prominent houses like the Casoiis, Kabooguangs, Kaiserins, DaClissaunts, Zudarius, Nowblinds, Toppitons, DeWaques, and Harpoons. The party was in full swing that night, an elaborate celebration of unity and camaraderie. Yet, unbeknownst to the revelers, their wine was laced with a potent sleeping potion, casting a drowsy spell over them all. Everything took a sharp turn for the worse when the Mourndreads, guided by their twisted agenda, summoned their Armies and a group of supposed Mittelmeerwuste Mercenaries to descend upon their own unsuspecting guests—slaughtering them in a horrifying ambush. Yet, I can't help but wonder if those "mercenaries'' were really just that. My gut feeling tells me they might have been Mittelmeerwuste soldiers masquerading as hired guns, dispatched from the Vallee Rocheuse Military Outpost to aid in the coup. Cunning, right?

In the midst of this bloody chaos, the infamous Jestersen Mourndread, then reigning as the Duke of Dreadlaugh, rose to the occasion. With audacious arrogance, he called upon the Scarlet Lady, invoking her presence amidst the carnage and offering the spilled blood as a sacrificial tribute. Can you believe the nerve of that guy, thinking he could manipulate a goddess to his bidding? As if!

However, the day of reckoning did bring a hefty toll to their side. The Ghastleys, mustering their armies and those so-called Mittelmeerwuste mercenaries, engaged in skirmishes alongside rival Duchies, launching attacks on their strongholds. Here's the kicker—while the Mourndreads managed to pull off their gruesome massacre, the Ghastleys utterly failed in their attempts to lay siege to the well-fortified castles of the other Duchies. It's like they stumbled through the whole ordeal. But then again, considering their Dukedom's abysmal economic situation and poor governance skills, it's no surprise. Poverty practically holds court there.

All these events converged into what would be forever etched in history as the Tandaya Civil War, or more colorfully known as the War of the Dukes across the Empire. But leave it to the Avalon Historians to coin a fancier, attention-grabbing term—voilà, "the Scarlet Soiree." Seriously, could it be any more on the nose? Gotta love their flair for catchy titles. Haha!

Fast forward seven months, and the war had hit a brick wall—a stalemate of epic proportions. The clashing houses had managed to cripple the Nethermores, Chasewalkers, and Al-Sahaabs, along with their alliances, dealing a serious blow by slaughtering their top military strategists during the Scarlet Soiree. Yet, both sides were practically mirror images of each other in terms of sheer destructive force. The result? A brutal, mutual annihilation-fest.

At this juncture, the Imperial Government chimed in, demanding a ceasefire from both warring factions. They put their foot down, preventing the Kingdom of Alsahra from diving into the muck of the Civil War, all in the name of avenging their fallen comrades. You'd think that would be enough, right? But no, the Mourndreads and the Ghastleys had the audacity to employ those shadowy Mittelmeerwuste Mercenaries. And wouldn't you know it, not a shred of evidence could firmly link these miscreants to the Mittelmeerwuste Authorities. So, guess what? The Mourndreads and the Ghastleys managed to evade the treason trial they so rightfully deserved.

Crazy how political maneuvering and murky alliances can pull the strings of justice, right? Just goes to show, the truth isn't always black and white in these convoluted affairs.

The war raged on relentlessly, leaving the City of Las Cuevas in a state of utter chaos—a true Terra Nullius where the rule of law was as elusive as a mirage. Amid the bedlam, countless citizens were uprooted from their homes, their lives disrupted in the midst of the turmoil. And there it stood, like a grim monument to betrayal and bloodshed—the building near the port that had hosted the Scarlet Soiree. The Mourndreads, finding shelter within its decaying walls, struggled to maintain a semblance of control as it faced relentless attacks from the united forces of the Nethermores, Chasewalkers, and Al-Sahaabs. That place, it held a certain significance for me, as it was the very property I was determined to acquire.

But let's not forget the Ghastleys, shall we? Their castle crumbled under the weight of their own hubris and poor planning. The combined onslaught of the Harpoons and the Casoiis laid siege to their once-proud fortress, and boy, did it falter. The Ghastleys had no choice but to beat a hasty retreat, seeking refuge in Dreadlaugh to keep the fight alive.

Then, as if the gods themselves had decided to intervene with a splash of comedic brilliance, something extraordinary happened. Just a fortnight later, a relative of mine returned from a mission in Nihonjin, and guess what? She managed to pull off the most audacious and seemingly simple way to turn the tides of war. Unbelievable, right? Stay tuned to find out just what she did to shake things up!

Picture this: a moonlit night within the ominous walls of Dreadlaugh Castle. A lavish banquet was underway, as the Mourndreads and Ghastleys gathered, plotting a grand-scale invasion to unleash their fury upon the rival Duchies. And here's the kicker—they had even managed to secure the assistance of the Bronze Militia, a notorious mercenary troupe hailing from the distant and enigmatic Grandia Peninsula. Oh, but what they didn't realize was that a game-changer was about to crash their little party.

Enter Caraianna Chasewalker, a true master of deception and the art of stealth. She was a Phantom Tracker, and her expertise had been honed through years of training and experiences across the far reaches of the world—Maharlika, Nihonjin, and even the mythical realm of Shambhala. As the Mourndreads and Ghastleys reveled in the feast, she was like a shadow in the darkness, blending seamlessly with the night.

Unbeknownst to her targets, Caraianna had orchestrated a plan that involved a touch of basilisk venom, an exceedingly poisonous brew. Swiftly, she slipped this venom into their food and drinks, a dangerous cocktail of demise that would soon take effect. The atmosphere was lively, the chatter animated, and the clinking of goblets a symphony of celebration. But that merriment was about to turn sour.

As the venom took hold, choking coughs reverberated through the hall, panic and confusion gripping the attendees. And then, with a dramatic flourish, Caraianna unveiled herself, materializing behind none other than Jokersen Mourndread and Antoine Ghastley. A hush fell over the room, broken only by the discordant gasps of those who witnessed the sudden intrusion.

In a single, awe-inspiring moment, Caraianna cast forth a spell—a tempest of arrows that rained upon the Mourndreads and Ghastleys, striking with chilling accuracy. Chaos ensued, and the castle's once-jubilant atmosphere descended into a symphony of screams and petrified gasps. The servants, mere spectators to this unfolding nightmare, stood paralyzed in sheer terror.

Jokersen and Antoine, their mirth and smugness replaced by wide-eyed shock and unbridled fear, turned to face the source of the disturbance. Coughing and wheezing, their fate was sealed. Caraianna's actions were deliberate and swift, her determination unwavering. With an ice pick in one hand and a legendary sword called Kusanagi-no-Tsurugi in the other, she put an end to their tyrannical rule, decapitating them in one swift, clean stroke.

And just like that, the tables had turned, and the night had become a stage for retribution and upheaval. The echoes of their demise lingered in the air, as if the very castle walls bore witness to the tides of vengeance. But as the dust settled, the story was far from over, and the ripple effects of Caraianna's audacious act would reverberate far and wide. Keep reading to find out just how this audacious move would change the course of history in Tandaya!

The servants remained frozen in a state of disbelief, their eyes wide with shock at the scene before them. Caraianna's gaze swept over them, her gaze piercing through their fear as she addressed them directly. "When nosy folks come asking about what went down here," she declared with a touch of dark humor, "tell 'em the Scourges of the Desert Remembers." It was a nod to the Chasewalkers' unique bond with the Desert Tribes of Alsahra, the very sands that held the Duchy of Iberia in their embrace. You see, this stretch of land was a blend of mountains and desert, once a vassal of House Shadowsand within the Kingdom of Alsahra. The Chasewalkers were the elite force, the very commanders of the formidable Sandtrooper Legion, driving the conquest of the mighty Ziggurat. It was from this history that the moniker "Desert Scourges" emerged.

And that wasn't all—Caraianna's dialogue wasn't short on punchy statements. "Let it be known," she continued, her tone dripping with fiery determination, "that our Bloody Sand Storm has just torn through the pathetic Houses of the Mourndreads and the Ghastleys. Got that, you lot? Crystal clear. 'Cause I've got a thirst for killing that I'm more than willing to quench if I need to explain myself again." This second verbal jab was an ode to the House of Chasewalker's motto, a creed that resonated deeply: "Our Sandstorms are their Reckoning."

With her words firmly planted, Caraianna departed from the Mourndread banquet hall, leaving behind two infants of the Mourndread line and three from the Ghastleys. The lives of these innocent babes were spared amidst the turmoil, a testament to a complex mix of motives and emotions that even a hardened warrior like Caraianna couldn't deny. Her footsteps echoed through the stone corridors, carrying her away from the haunting aftermath.

And just outside, a squad of thirteen elite ninja, her trusted private army, orchestrated a seamless and ruthless purge. The remaining forces of the Mourndreads and Ghastleys, their once-formidable strength now a mere shadow of its former self, were dispatched with breathtaking efficiency. The clashing sounds of steel were swift and deadly, and by the time it was over, not a drop of sweat marred the brow of Caraianna's silent avengers. With the dust settling and the night cloaked in eerie stillness, the balance of power had shifted yet again, poised to reshape the destiny of Tandaya in ways no one could predict. The next chapter of this tumultuous saga beckoned, waiting to be unraveled...

And with that dramatic and brutal event, the curtains finally fell on the War of the Dukes, a conflict that left an indelible mark on Tandaya's history. The Mourndreads and the Ghastleys were served a harsh reminder of their limitations, forcing them to reconsider their ambitions, at least for the time being. It was like a lesson in humility, a stark reminder that power, no matter how great, could be toppled when challenged.

But guess what? Fast forward thirty years, and it seems like history might just be repeating itself. The Mourndreads are at it again, stirring up the same old nonsense. You'd think they would have learned their lesson, but nope, they're back for round two. It's like a never-ending cycle of drama and power struggles.

Funny thing is, if Caraianna had taken her ruthlessness to the next level and wiped out every last one of them without showing an ounce of mercy, things might have turned out differently. Maybe those Ulster Princes, who knows? But alas, she made her choices, and the consequences followed suit.

So, where did Caraianna end up after her deadly escapade? Well, that's where the trail gets a bit hazy. She sailed south, beyond the borders of the Avalon Continent, seeking answers and adventure. There was always this curiosity burning inside her about what lay beyond, a desire to explore the uncharted. But here's the kicker: there's something strangely familiar about this whole tale, isn't there? Almost like you've heard it before, maybe even read it in a book somewhere. But hey, let's chalk it up to a wild coincidence, shall we? Yup, pure accident, nothing more. Haha!

So, picture this: I dash like a bat out of hell, racing through the twists and turns of Sohoton Cave like my life depends on it. 30 minutes later, I'm standing right in the heart of the cave's central chamber, catching my breath. But just as I catch my breath, this rock-like thing decides to make an entrance, hurtling towards me like a boulder on a mission. Lucky for me, I manage to sidestep it, Matrix-style, just in the nick of time. And then, bam, it's lunging at me, jaws wide open like it's auditioning for a role in a monster movie.

I'm not having any of it, though. I snag the thing mid-air and slam it onto the ground, like a pro wrestler taking down an opponent. And there it is, lying on the floor looking all surprised and grumbling. Classic Candiwata Rock.

"You seriously never change, do you?" I quip, almost amused by the whole encounter.

"Oooof! You dirty mongrel, who the hell are you!?" it bellows, all riled up.

"Chill, my rocky friend. It's me, Rasleigh. Remember? How you been?" I give it a grin.

"Oh, is that really you, kid?"

"Yep, it's me alright."

"What brings you here?"

"I need your expertise, Candiwata Rock. Got this fella who needs to sign a deed of sale using some irrevocable blood magic. And your demonic mojo is the only thing that can cancel out this Rhymester's spell. Trust me, it's for everyone's safety. We definitely don't want to spark another civil war here in Tandaya, right? Remember when that sneaky Carolino Dalakitnon almost got the best of you?"

"Oh, that useless old warlock. Don't remind me. Fine, fine, I'll help you out."

"Haha, gotcha! You're a good sport, my demon pal. So, how's life been treating you?"

We shoot the breeze for what feels like ages, swapping tales and jokes. And just as we're deep in conversation, wouldn't you know it, a carriage rolls up with my crew on board, right on cue.

Valentina swoops in like a ninja, grabs the Rhymester, and tosses him right in front of us. They make a quick exit from the cave, smart thinking so the Rhymester won't recognize them when he wakes up. With the blindfold off, I get a drop of Milk of Magnesia under his nose, and voila, Mr. Bard is back in the land of the living. I remove the tape from his mouth, and he's finally able to talk.

And boy, does he waste no time. He's all like, "You! What the hell is going on here!?"

I don't beat around the bush. "Alright, I'll cut to the chase. I've got my eye on that half-hectare property of yours near the port. You know, the one with the super charming dilapidated building. I want it. And I want you to sell it to me for a cool 300,000 drachmae."

He scoffs, clearly not amused. "Yeah, right. No way in hell am I doing that. How about you untie me, and we forget this ever happened, huh? Wait a second, I recognize you. You're the soon-to-be ruler of Alsahra and your family basically owns a chunk of this place. So why on earth are you after my dinky port-side property?! Oh, I get it, you're trying to avoid another Scarlet Soiree, aren't you?"

I roll my eyes. "Dude, drop the attitude. It's all about the location. I've got business plans for that spot. But here's the scoop. I could easily forge your signature and end you right now, but there's a risk they might catch on. So, I'm not taking that chance. That's why I'm asking for your signature with a little touch of blood magic, courtesy of yours truly."

He's not convinced. "And if I refuse? What's your grand plan then?"

I give him a sly grin. "Say hello to my pal over here, Candiwata Rock. You remember, the Demon of Tandaya? The same one Carolino Dalakitnon once had a blast binding to instill nightmares in our ancestors. Well, old buddy, Candiwata's gonna have a nice, hearty meal with you as the main course. How's that sound?"

He huffs, but finally relents. "Fine. Just know that you're going to regret this. You'll regret crossing me. The council's gonna hear about your little betrayal. And don't even think that your fancy family army can wipe the floor with us in battle." He extends his right hand, ready to seal the deal.

I give his pricked finger a little nudge and give him a sassy grin. "Oh, so you're trying to intimidate me, Mr. Wise Councilman?" I say, setting up the spell I need to cast. With the stage set, he goes ahead and signs that deed of sale, complete with clauses that'll keep his lips sealed about our little encounter. Once that's all done, I activate the spell.

Elias Mourndread is ready to hit the road, his eyes shooting daggers at us. He's about to step out of the cave when I can't help but shout, "Hold up, you forgetful asshole!" I chuck a bag at him, and he catches it. Curiosity gets the better of him, so he opens it up. Lo and behold, it's the payment – a solid 300,000 drachmae.

I can't resist one final jab. "And hey, when you're home, take a good long shower. You reek of shit." I couldn't help but laugh. I mean, let's be real, he probably didn't get to have a decent bathroom break during his abduction earlier. He shoots us another furious look and I swear, if looks could kill. After a solid three seconds of a stare-down that'd put a standoff in an old western movie to shame, he huffs and walks away. Classic.

The moon was high in the sky when I finally reached Iakin's place. Everyone was gathered around the dining table, waiting for me to spill the beans. So, I gave them the lowdown on how the plan went off without a hitch. I leaned back in my chair and let them know that it was a success.

My next move was to put Iakin on a special assignment – reaching out to the big guns in construction, the Quadruple Dragon Construction Firm. This powerhouse was run by Zhongguo immigrants who had set up shop in Coreandale. My grand plan? To have Iakin take the reins on constructing the Cuadrilla de Los Serpientes Hotel and Casino, along with a new port specifically tailored for Batavianic Shipping Lines. You see, I had my fingers in quite a few pies.

Valentina, on the other hand, was going to be the muscle behind it all. She'd back Iakin up, knocking down any issues that dared cross our path. But wait, there's more! I also wanted Iakin to rustle up a crew of private soldiers to keep the peace. Yep, I was thinking of setting up camp here in Las Cuevas. Sayonara, Aigleterre – this was going to be the new hub of all things Rasleigh Chasewalker, folks.

As if that wasn't enough, I was aiming for the Cuadrilla de Los Serpientes to pull double duty – not just a fancy hotel and casino, but also a fortress to end all fortresses. I envisioned it standing tall and proud, an architectural marvel that'd blow the minds of any ship cruising through these seas. Oh, and speaking of operations, I figured I'd bring in the big guns too. Harmonia, Joonjee Mingitus von Paterson, and Bulljack would join the party, and the Drunk Tikbalang Inn? Yep, that'd be our undercover HQ.

Buckle up, folks – Las Cuevas was about to get a whole lot more interesting, all thanks to yours truly. Haha! Alright, so after our little meeting, I waved my goodbyes and dropped a message to my crew back in Aigleterre. I gave them the heads up to pack their bags and make their way over to Las Cuevas, along with the stash of weapons and treasures I've got stashed away. Joonjee was handed a special mission – he had to keep a low profile and stay vigilant. I had a crew of ten orcs under his command, and I made sure they followed suit. Now, I guess you're wondering where these orcs even came from, right? Well, it's not as complicated as you might think.

See, those orcs are his crew, plain and simple. Joonjee met them during his journey to the Gungnir Mountains. If you're familiar with orc society, you know how they've got their whole hierarchy thing going on. Trust me, it's a whole spiel to explain, and I'm sparing you that. Haha!

So here's the plan – I told them to make a pit stop and pay my grandma a visit in Oasenstadt on their way here. She'd hook them up with the Sand Wasps Group, another bunch of mercenaries – and guess what? Granny's the boss there too. They'd then be escorted from Oasenstadt to Fort Saint Charlemagne, a kind of pit stop on their route to Las Cuevas. It's all about making sure they arrive here without a hitch.

So, let me tell you about my visit to my Grandpa's Manor – it was around 7 in the morning when I rolled in. My cousins and all the extended family were pretty stoked to see me. You know, that kind of cheerful reunion where everyone's all smiles and warm hugs. I had a little chat with one of my uncles who's in charge of the Chasewalker Bridges. I gave him the heads up that my private armed squad, along with all the other stuff I had stashed away back in Aigleterre, would be making their way there. I didn't beat around the bush – I told them all about the grand business plan and the fort I had cooking near the Port of Las Cuevas. Man, they were impressed, you could see it in their eyes. It's like our clan is slowly but surely making its mark in the southern and southeastern parts of Avalon.

Once lunch was done, I said my farewells to the folks over at Fort Saint Charlemagne. It was time to hit the road, or rather, the Paranas Forest, which led straight to the Maqueda Marsh. You know me, always ready for some covert operations. With the property deal locked in and the certificate title transferred, it was time to take care of a few loose ends.

So, there I was, ghost mode activated and all, sneaking right into the heart of the Mourndread Stronghold. Skirted past the barracks, maneuvering like a shadow, and ended up in the chambers of none other than Elias Mourndread. Lo and behold, he wasn't alone – his harem was keeping him company. But you know what they say, no rest for the wicked.

As soon as Elias locked eyes with me, I wasted no time and planted a solid punch right on his face, enough to knock him out cold. The ladies didn't even get a chance to let out a proper scream before my blade went to work – cleanly decapitating them in a swift, deadly motion. No mess, no fuss.

With Elias slung over my shoulder, I kicked my speed into high gear and raced to Sohoton Cave. Two hours later, I finally arrived, my mana reserves pretty much drained from all that sprinting. I heaved Elias's body in front of Candiwata Rock, true to my promise.

"Here we are, old friend," I said, a mix of exhaustion and triumph in my voice.

Elias stirred, looking disoriented. Fear danced in his eyes as he took in the scene. But before he could even utter a spell, Candiwata Rock had already nullified it. I had to break the news, cold and matter-of-fact.

"Look, Elias Mourndread, this isn't personal. It's just business. You've been undermining the Imperial Family's operations, and well, let's just say the Murder of Crows is willing to pay handsomely for your... departure," I explained as he started begging for his life, dropping to his knees and pleading for mercy.

"Mercy? Nah, not for the laundry list of crimes you've stacked up against the empire. You've been playing patty-cake with Mittelmeerwuste, supporting their little agenda against the empire – and guess what? That, my dear asshole, is the pinnacle of high treason. Happy Scarlet Festival, by the way! Thirty years since the infamous Scarlet Soiree, a grand anniversary for your family's legacy of douchebaggery. Bravo," I quipped, a wicked grin curling on my lips as I sparked up a cigarette, soaking in the nicotine like it's my saving grace.

Then came the pièce de résistance – my main event. "Oh, just so you know, Elias, the head? Yeah, hands off, that's reserved for something special. Cool with that?" I directed the question to Candiwata Rock, awaiting its cue.

Candiwata Rock, that old demonic buddy, chimed in. "Absolutely, old friend."

Without missing a beat, Candiwata opened its cavernous mouth, Elias's desperate screams echoing for about a solid ten seconds before the demon casually spat out his head. A tad gruesome, sure, but a satisfying end to a miserable chapter.

Elias's head rolled, lifeless and detached, onto the cave floor. I leaned in, a mirthful glint in my eyes. "Now, my rocky accomplice, this head? This I'm gonna take to Aigleterre."