die!" "Randgrof Elephabred! You're alive!" Elisabeth was about to say his name, but Lute beat her to the punch. Randgrof Elephabred. That was Aguina and Satisbarina's son. If beastfolk faces were difficult to tell apart, demi-humans were nigh impossible. However, it would seem their suspicions were true. Upon hearing Lute's shout, the manâ€”Randgrofâ€”looked up and frowned in puzzlement. "Who are you...and why do you know my name? Do we know each other?" "I can answer that," Elisabeth replied. "I come at the behest of Satisbarina Elephabred." "My mother? Why?" "She asked that I ensure your safety, and we've been searching for you since the Three Kings began their march. Now calm yourself and look around. This place is filled with corpses as far as the eye can see. Who would come to do you harm? Any foes of yours would simply depart and leave you to your lot. Know where it is you stand," she said coolly. The provocative wording was a considered choice on her part. Knowing that she was talking to Satisbarina's son, she judged it would have the desired effect. After showing a quick flash of anger, Randgrof lowered his rifle. Sure enough, rage was the fastest way to get through to him. He got up off Elisabeth's subordinate and offered him an apologetic bow. Then, having realized who the group's leader was, he came over to Elisabeth. The Torture Princess's crimson eyes narrowed. Randgrof's silken clothes were smeared with blood. Then, with a shudder, Randgrof dropped his gun. He crumpled to his knees. "Thank goodness... Thank goodness you're here. Please, I'm begging you, you have to come in. This place is sacred to our people. I would normally bar you, but now I welcome you with open arms. That was too close... A little longer, and we'd have..." "What happened? Pull yourself together. What exactly is going on in there?" Elisabeth helped Randgrof up. The man was scared stiff. However, Alice had long since left. Whatever it was he was afraid of, it wasn't her. Randgrof shook his head and continued his desperate plea. The words came out more as sobs than anything else. "Any longer and we would've started killing each other." At that, Elisabeth and her men couldn't help but exchange some glances. Despair was a funny thing. Sometimes, it robbed people of their ability to make rational decisions. Given the circumstances, though, acting rationally was hardly that important. The mixed-race people had spent many long months and years plotting their rebellion against the world. They wanted to see their wish through to fruition, even if it meant making foes out of everyone else. However, there was one important fact they overlooked. The Fremd Torturchen didn't share that fervent desire of theirs. The only thing she held was a deep-seated affection for the man who called her his daughter. Granted, she was quite fond of her other allies, but therein lay the tragedy. To Alice and Lewis both, those people they held dear were nothing more than people they felt ought to die alongside them. In Alice's eyes, killing the survivors was an act of mercy. Thus, all it took was a child's grief to shatter the mixed-race people's dearest desire. Many of them were given the "kindness" of having their lives taken. But the bigger issue, the problem now at hand was... ...what are those misfortunate enough to survive to do from here? They'd made enemies of the world, they had no homeland to return to, and if they fled, they would be doing so in disgrace. Their failure was despair-inducing in its totality. Their rebellion had brought about doom, just not in the way they'd wanted. They had repented, and they had hated, and now their dream was over. They had no more reason to live. Even that had been taken from them. All of that had led them to where they wereâ€”in the sanctuary. The mixed-race people were pushing to die by mass suicide, and naturally, the demi-humans were refusing to go quietly. Most of them had been nothing but hostages, and even the traitors among their ranks at least had a homeland that would take them back. They had no reason to play along, and so life and death were being forced to vie for supremacy in a tiny, isolated space. Whenever that happened, there could only be one outcome. People would start brutally killing one another. However, the arrival of their unexpected visitors put a temporary halt to the brewing violence. The Torture Princess followed Randgrof into the tense room, then took advantage of both sides' bewilderment to start haughtily giving out orders. Beneath the temple, there was a small room for its grave keeper. It was there that Elisabeth took Randgrof and a representative from the mixed-race people and set up a meeting. The other survivors were even farther underground, in a stone room surrounding a bed of vitreous sand. It was modeled after the Sand Queen's chamber and was similarly massive. Inside, mixed-race folk were huddled up tight with mixed-race folk, and demi-humans with demi-humans, yet even so, the chamber was packed nearly to capacity. Elisabeth commented on the head count. "Three hundred, give or take? I'm surprised to see so many." "Three hundred hid underground, and around the same number fled," the middle-aged mixed-race man replied. "Take away the demi-humans, and we make up just half that number. And you call us many? The ranks for our rebellion against the world have been whittled down to a mere handful. Although, I suppose that's a happy turn of events for you people." The man had the eyes of a human, the ears of a beastfolk, and the face of a demi-human. His cheeks were stretched taut over deep sword wounds, and he had scars from someone nearly ripping off his face. That alone was enough to get a glimpse at the depths of his despair. In spite of that, though, Elisabeth's reply was blunt. "Unashamedly so, yes. Allow me to be concise. As I see it, there's little reason for me to even negotiate here. However, it'll be one fewer thing for me to have to think about, so I call for a temporary cease-fire. I vow to place your survivors under my protection. In exchange, I ask for information on Lewis's legacy. Furthermore, I ask that you hand us custody of the living demi-humans here." When Elisabeth listed out her conditions, it earned her dubious looks from not just the mixed-race man, but from Randgrof as well. By the looks of it, he didn't understand why she'd made the request she had about the demi-humans. However, Elisabeth had had a good reason for that. If she wanted to help deescalate the situation, extending a gesture of goodwill to the demi-humans who'd never turned traitor was a good first step. Furthermore, and more importantly, there was something weighing on her mind. "Randgrof, I have a question for you. Was your father... Was Aguina off somewhere else?" "Father? No. After his betrayal, he joined up with the mixed-race folk and came here as well. That's why he left my mother a message...or at least, I hear he did. I actually saw him a few times here myself." "What became of his corpse, then?" "...Wait, you haven't seen my father's body?" Elisabeth gave Randgrof's shocked question a nod. Randgrof went on with an expression that was somewhere between relief and bewilderment. "Father didn't escape with us; he continued evacuating purebloods until the very end. I had simply assumed he passed. I was sad about it, surely, but are you telling me he survived?" "I know not. I find it hard to imagine he did, but then..." Elisabeth shook her head. It was hard to picture Aguina fleeing the settlement and simply leaving that sea of corpses behind. That said, she couldn't rightly say that she'd seen Aguina Elephabred's corpse. The death of the man who slew a saint and could well be described as an enemy of the world was, as yet, unconfirmed. Elisabeth obviously hadn't gone around to check each and every corpse, but there was something else that she was confident about. If Aguina had been staring down death, he would have made sure to leave some sort of mark on the world. However, she had seen no such thing. It begged the question, where did he go? "In any case, I have my vow with Satisbarina to uphold. You're coming with us." "Ah, um...right. I have to wonder, what exactly did my mother make you promise?" Randgrof frowned. He probably knew full well just how tough Satisbarina was. Elisabeth waited for the middle-aged man's response, but the mixed-race representative persisted in his silence. It was a good ten seconds later that he finally moved. He inclined his head, and, in the same motion, shook it. "You can do what you want with the demi-humans...but I have no information to give you." "Interesting. Stubborn to the very end, then?" "No, it's simpler than that. I just don't have anything I can tell you. I imagine Lewis already told you about the demon grandchildren, and you saw the fixed batteries for yourself. We have nothing valuable enough to bargain for our lives with. Our ambitions are broken, and our dearest wish lies dashed. This is as far as we go. There's nothing more to it." "What are you saying?" Elisabeth asked. "Consider yourselves lucky, demi-human. You get to live another day. Now take them and go. But us, our lives end here," the man said matter-of-factly. Elisabeth took a moment to stew on what he'd said. He was not speaking out of panicked desperation. He had just calmly made the decision that that was where he was going to die. She raised an eyebrow and rested her chin on her hands. "And your people are in consensus on that?" "I wouldn't expect you to understand, but our despair is not something so easily forgotten. 'Have you ever seen someone who was murdered?'" It was nonsensical, asking a question like that to the Torture Princess. However, the mixed-race representative went on like a man possessed. "'Someone who was sold off? Someone who was violated? Someone who was robbed of all their dignity? Someone who was cast into despair? Someone who was dissected while they were still alive?'" Have you ever seen someone get sacrificed and have it not weigh on their killers' consciences in the slightest? Have you ever seen someone be victimized in the name of justice and faith? I'll never forgive them. No matter who does. No matter if God himself does. No matter if even the dead do. "'I'll never forgive them, even if I'm the only one,'" the old man said, giving voice to his resentment. Elisabeth could tell that the words weren't his. That was a speech that someone else had given. The mixed-race man exhaled, then confirmed her suspicions. "That's something Lewis said once. We were all following his malice. His hatred called forth the Fremd Torturchen, and we welcomed her gladly. And you can see where it got us. There's no need for us to 'slay as many of you as we can until the day of our ultimate defeat' anymore. The girl's going to kill everyone anyway. We're all beyond help. If we went and shook hands with the very people we tried to kill just to eke out a tiny bit more life, what would that make us?" Elisabeth didn't respond to that. She simply barked an order. "Lute, go on down." Lute understood what she meant. He nodded, then left the room and headed for the stone chamber below. He directed a forceful shout out into the crowd. "If any mixed-race people want to leave with us, come this way! You have my word that no harm will come to you!" The only reply he got was dead silence. Down in the murky darkness, the air was thick with