Chương 85: UP THE HILL

The hammering sounds from his previous visit were absent when he got to the smithy. Although it was early, the shop was open. The first thing he saw upon entering was the smith's wife. The picture was not clear through his blindfold, but he was able to make out that she was dusting the counter, all the while humming a tune he recognised as the song sung by the townsfolk. Upon noticing him, she stopped what she was doing and faced him with a smile.

"Sir Knight, you're early!" she exclaimed in her high-pitched voice. Then her voice dropped a few octaves when she continued. "Luckily Hal finished the helm. That big buffoon worked himself to near death yesterday without food and water. I had to force him out of that smithy and into bed as soon as the wind stopped." The last part was uttered in an upset tone. "He better not think about going out for the rest of the day."

"May he get better soon," Isaac offered his condolences.

"Of course he will," the woman said, mood lightening. "My Hal is built like an ox; a day of rest and he will be back at the forge pounding iron."

Isaac nodded as the plump woman ducked under the counter and came up with a glistening steel helm. Its make was decent, nowhere near what he was used to but not bad either. He stepped forward and reached for it, however, he stopped himself just before his could touch it. Then he closed his eyes and focused. Leaning forward, he touched it carefully; first the tips, then the fingers and finally the palm. Nothing happened, fortunately; explaining away the blindfold might have worked, but he would have trouble explaining the effects of {Corrupt Armaments}.

The price for the helm had been paid on their previous visit, thus there was no need for him to linger. He gave the woman a thankful nod and turned to leave. However, before he reached the door something occurred to him, prompting him to turn back to her.

"Earlier, the ph- my… employer Maven Shade… was approached by several townsfolk, begging her to help their sick children," he began. "Do you perhaps know anything about it? Even the smallest bit of information will be welcome; it would go a long way in helping save these ailing souls."

"Oh dear!" the woman exclaimed. "I've heard of youths falling ill lately, but I didn't think it was serious." She tilted up at the store's roof in silent contemplation before her eyes returned to him. "I don't know much about it. Recently, some customers have been complaining about their children being too sick to get out of bed. I didn't think it was serious though because they got out that state after a few days."

"And when did you first hear of these bedridden children?"

"Three weeks ago? A month? I don't know; somewhere around that time," the woman answered while stroking her cheek in a thoughtful manner.

"Around the time Lord Ennard's guest arrived?" he asked hastily before catching himself.

"Now that I think about it, it was around then," the woman responded absentmindedly. However, after saying so her expression became alert. "You don't think she's the one responsible, do you? Although, it is strange that she hasn't left the castle since arriving. My friend, whose daughter is a maid in the castle, said that she has been holed up in the baron's room and hardly leaves. Neither does the young lord for that matter. Flame knows what they are doing in there." She looked scandalised when she uttered the last sentence.

"She might not be responsible," he replied. "But it's safer to prowl all avenues to learn as much about the illness as possible. Your son described the musician as being pretty like a fairy, which would imply she is young. Maybe she unintentionally brought a disease into town that only affects the youth. It would explain why she and the baron hardly leave their chambers, perhaps they are bedridden most of the time and only come out when they feel better."

"Really?" the shopkeeper asked, surprised. "An illness like that exists?"

It did not… as far as he knew. However, he was not going to say that to the woman; or tell her what he thought was actually going on. In his experience, such information would cause her to panic, which would prompt her to run around town telling everyone what she heard. In the end the whole town would panic and there would be a riot.

No, it was better for serious problems to be dealt with before the common populace caught wind of them.

"Probably," he replied. "I will go up there to have a look." With that said, he was about to turn and leave when he caught himself once more. "Please keep what we've just discussed a secret, at least until we solve the problem."

"Okay," the woman nodded seriously. "Please find the cause and cure it. Our humble town wouldn't be able to handle an epidemic."

Isaac nodded, unsure of whether she would keep her word. Not that it mattered though. The only reason he had asked her to keep quiet was to buy a time. The smith's wife was a chatty woman, one way or another he was certain this conversation would make it around town. However, he sincerely hoped that when the content of their conversation was finally leaked, the threat would have been dealt with.

"I hope you're not thinking of going there Isen!" the first thing that happened after he exited the smith's shop was the insufferable cat propping out of his shadow and shooting him a disproving look. "Master will be very angry."

It looked like it wanted to say more, but gulped at his stare and shut its mouth. Then it watched him with large eyes as he mounted the horse.

Thank Goddess the beast had survived the Equinox. If it had been claimed by the Endless Scuffle, he would have been distraught; especially since it would mean he would only have Sage and her cat as company. For a while now he had been thinking of a name to give the horse, something that conveyed his appreciation at the fact that he was not alone in the struggle to endure the phantom and her familiar; there was not a single scenario in his mind that could be worse than being alone with the two of them again.

"I won't let you!" the cat jumped on the horse's head just as he grabbed the reins. "Master will-"

He grabbed the familiar by the scruff of the neck, causing it to squeal in fright. Then he brought it to eye-level, staring intensely into its quivering, almost tearful eyes.

"I don't give a damn what she thinks," he snarled.

Through their bond, he could sense the phantom was on the other side of town, which was really convenient. One thing he had figured out about her control over him was that her wording mattered and even then, those words were subject to interpretation. If she told him to jump, in the end it was up to him how high he would jump; unless explicitly stated. Also, the duration of her orders had a time limit of approximately six hours.

If that was all her hold over him amounted to though, it would have been easy to get out of his predicament. Unfortunately, during her desecration ritual the undead bitch ingrained three tenets he was unable to shake no matter their distance apart or time elapsed; each more hateful than the last. First off, he could not harm himself in anyway, meaning he could not off himself to end this bemocking existence. Secondly, he was prohibited from initiating any action likely to lead to Sage being harmed, which included attacking her or revealing his and her nature to others. Finally, if she was ever in danger he would protect her, at the cost of his unlife if need be. These three rules could not be disobeyed unless directly ordered by the phantom to do otherwise.

That was what Isaac was going for. It was why he did not care whether she caught him or not. If she did, he prayed to the Goddess that she would be so angry she would dispose of him. If she did not stop him, he would save the town from a dangerous threat. Either situation was a win in his books.

"Go cry to your master and see if I care," he sneered, letting the cat go.

The creature landed on the horse's crest, where it proceeded to give him an indignant glare before jumping off the beast and settling in its shadow.

With the annoying creature backing off, he could grab the reins without interruption. He directed the horse to the road that led from town to the castle, tugging the reins strongly to encourage the it to be speedy. He had just caught Hal, the shopkeeper's son, in distance rushing towards him. Isaac wanted to be far from this place when the boy got here.

In less than a minute he was able to leave town and was approaching the peak where the castle stood. While in transit, he shot the helm squeezed between his thighs a hesitant look before releasing a sigh accompanied by a frosty breath. Then he let his weaker hand release the reins and touch its top, willing his mana to flow into it. Isaac was treated to the sight of the helm exchange its silver sheen for an obsidian coat. When the transformation was done, he pulled the cloth from his eyes and pushed the helm over his head, feeling its cold metallic sides stroke his face as the visor lowered.

Isaac was not particularly fond of helms, the way they hindered his vision. Unfortunately, he could not forgo it at the moment. The current him was weaker than he used to be when he was alive. Sage's defilement of his body had not only turned him into a filthy abomination, but also reset his cyan mana. Currently, his mana was yellow, a far cry from the 7th Order mana he used to have. The strength of the foe he would be facing was unknown. Confrontation without taking all precautions possible would-be suicidal; which, unfortunately, he could not be.

Isaac arrived at the castle minutes after leaving town. Tall and thick grey walls draped the structures- approximately five metres high- with black iron gates barring his way. Four guards stood atop the walls, each bearing a crossbow. One of them, the most senior-looking among them, raised his hand to stop him.

"Who goes there!" the man shouted. "State your name and purpose of your visit!"

Isaac controlled the horse to stop and looked up at the man before his gaze wandered to his companions. They had their weapons trained on him. In response, Isaac raised his hands and dismounted.

"I am here to meet the baron," he yelled. "There is a threat in town he should be made aware of."

"And what would this threat be?" the man questioned, his comrades not letting up on their aim.

"Apologies, but I would prefer to tell the baron personally."

"Lord Ennard is not interested in seeing anyone!" the guard responded harshly. "Say your piece and return to town!"

Hearing this, Isaac shrugged internally. He had tried. Even though the odds of asking to see the baron actually working had been minimal to start with, it never hurt to ask. Knowing that avenue was completely shut, he now had no qualms about forcing his way in.

No sooner had the guard's rejection fallen when he flung himself at the wall. Five metres was not too high for one with his physique; before the first gasps of surprise even escaped the guards, his hand was already grabbing the top of the wall. Without any difficulty he hoisted himself onto the wall and rushed them. He got three of them before they could fire their crossbows, tapping them lightly on the back of the neck and rendering them unconscious. He made sure to do it in such a manner that they would not fall off the wall to their deaths. His actions need only result in a single death… plus himself if he was lucky.

The last guard, the leader, managed to fire a shot before Isaac reached him. However, the bolt bounced harmlessly off the obsidian armour. Its ineffectiveness caused the man to yelp in surprise before he went down like his colleagues.

With the guards at the gate taken care of, the way was clear. He would get to his target soon… was what he thought before he heard a giant bell ringing.

"Dammit!" he cursed.

There was no need to need to guess the purpose of the bell, as guards numbering close to a dozen stormed into the courtyard. The alarm had been sounded. The entire castle… no, the entirety of Tima had been roused.