Netori: Stealing The Hero's Party!

The seeds of rot propagated through the ground as Erika walked through the desert. Her bare feet on the hot sand burned against her skin, yet on a pilgrimage of sorts, she refused to use magic to protect herself or allow herself to be healed. Blood dripped from the soles of her feet and the drag through the sand left a lasting mark that could be seen from up above, far ahead or the back.

That is how Kara found her. Riding her mule with her legs crossed on one side, the high priestess of Aphrodite accompanied her junior. She wasn't looking to confront Erika, nor make her reconsider what she had already set in mind; instead, it was her own curiosity that was driving. Which eventually led her to question.

"Is this truly about taking an eye for an eye, or is this your expression of faith?" Raising an eyebrow, Kara watched as Erika's expression intensified a little. "Oh, don't worry, I'm not here to judge–just checking on my favorite group of people about to clash against each other in a minute or so."

"What group?" Erika asked, squinting as she continued to march.

Humming in response, Kara turned her head to the front. Gaining a minor lead on the priestess, she pointed out the walled city of the god, Asmareth. Still far on the horizon, it was a few more hours of the journey. In spite of that, the soldiers by the gates and the golden armor paladin could clearly be seen expecting Erika's arrival.

"You're not the only ones I've helped, priestess." With a smile, Kara looked at Erika again. As the two continued marching forward with their eyes holding each other's gaze, Kara's body rocked back and forth on top of her mule. An eerie silence had taken hold between the two, edging on rivalry even. But as the priestess spoke again, Kara reminded that she'd made no false promises. "The day we first met, I told you that I go wherever someone needs my help. I aid them, direct them to the correct path, but that's all I can do–the decision like your own today, falls onto them in the end."

"Then you won't stop me from what I'm about to do?" Erika asked while stopping for the first time since her self-imposed pilgrimage.

Kara stopped right after, but as she turned her mule around, it wasn't an answer that she had, but rather a suggestion disguised as something else.

"I wouldn't dare do that. I know exactly how you feel after all," holding a laugh, she shook her head. "In matters of faith, reason seldom matters. So go ahead, kill everyone in that city, the nursing mothers, the children, the crippled and the able bodies alike."

"Drop that sarcastic tone for once!" A fierce look took over Erika's countenance. She wasn't quite that happy with how Kara was trying to spin everything. Thus, with fingers curled into a fist and teeth clenched tight, the priestess waved the high priestess out of her way and continued walking.

For a few seconds, not a word left Kara's mouth. She simply watched as Erika dragged her bleeding feet through the sand. However, right as it was turn for the priestess to return, she said one last sentence and then disappeared altogether.

"Give the paladin a chance to talk. If you still can't reach an agreement, then convert the weak and the defenseless, they'll serve you better that way than a pile of corpses…" Even though Erika heard the priestess loud and clear, her mind was far too consumed with bloodlust to really hear.

Athenia's cradle had been sullied, it had been defiled by the abhorrent intruders. As an apostle of the goddess, how could she accept anything form of absolution? Such thoughts ran rampant in her brain, she wanted nothing more than to send that grim message. A soul to a thousand, a hundred to a hundred thousand, it only sounded fair…Or did it?

'This paladin better start by bowing his head and begging for forgiveness.' Reluctantly, she agreed to Kara's suggestion, and finally, as she arrived near the city gates–not even a mile from the gate, she was faced with an army of a few thousand people–coincidentally, the same number as the soldiers at the castle when it fell.

Slamming the hilt of her golden staff, Erika planted her weapon into the sand. For a spell, its tip–a crimson prism top cackled with silver lightning; however, after just a few seconds, the noise settled, and Erika addressed the paladin standing at the helm of his force.

"Your name?"

Staring at her from behind his golden visor, the man took a deep breath and began walking closer. Leaving his men behind to guard the gate, he planted his greatsword on his right side while Erika's spear remained on his left.

"Klaus Kleimar, paladin of our lord Asmareth!" Crossing his arms, he purposely showed a moment of vulnerability as he expected her to do the same. "What about you? Who are you, servant of Aphrodite?"

'Aphrodite?' The dead goddess's name caught Erika off guard. She was almost offended to be called a servant of such an incompetent whore–but as the reminder came that her goddess was still posing as Aphrodite for the rest of the world, the priestess shrugged the insult right off.

Instead, grabbing her staff, she warned the paladin as he quickly grabbed his weapon as well.

"I am your bane…" With a fierce look in her eyes, Erika's lips cracked into an eerie smile. "And the blight of this city. Surrender now and you may live, but resist if you must–for your names have already been scribed in the book of the dead."

"You still didn't answer my question, WHO ARE YOU?!" The paladin screamed, far more confrontational than before.

Yet the only thing he managed to do with his threat was stretch Erika's smile even further.

"I am Erika 'Phordite and I bring you death!"