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Many in the order itself believe we need to make atonement, and we will continue our pledge until there is no order left, should it come to that.”

Devol considered the explanation for a moment and looked at his hands, then at his sword. “So stopping the malefics… That is the Templar’s true duty?”

“We are Templars. We stop the wicked,” Vaust stated. “And the malefics are an embodiment of that.”

He nodded, stood, and looked directly into the mori’s eyes. “Mr. Lebatt, I’ve made a decision.”

Chapter Thirty-Three

“Well done, young Magi,” Nauru said approvingly as Devol handed the box to the grand mistress. “I trust everything went well?”

He pressed his lips together and looked at his teammates, both of whom were unsure how to respond—much to the amusement of Vaust, who stepped forward in their place. “There were some complications, madame.”

“I would suspect so,” she said dryly, “given that you are with them instead of simply following them.”

“Wait, he was tailing us the whole time?” Jazai whispered to the other two. “I never caught him. Did you guys feel anything?”

“Not at all,” the young swordsman stated.

“I never felt him or saw him,” Asla confirmed. “He is quite proficient at sneakiness.”

“I can fill you in,” the mori offered and sipped from his gourd. “I think the younglings should probably get a little rest now.”

“Of course,” the grand mistress said with a slight nod. “It was their first mission alone.”

“Not alone if he was following us,” Devol muttered.

“Honestly, when I think about what could have happened, I’m not as annoyed as I thought I’d be,” Jazai told him.

“Same with me.” Asla nodded.

“I am sure your mentors would love to see you again so feel free to take the day for yourselves,” Nauru said with a soft smile and bowed to them. “Thank you for your help.”

The three mirrored her gesture and each said a variation of, “You’re welcome,” as they stood and departed the room, talking excitedly with one another.

“What is your evaluation?” the Templar leader asked, her tone still playful and genuinely curious despite the more clinical question.

“They did far better than we could have hoped,” Vaust admitted. “I did have to step in, but the box was briefly lost after the carrier was killed and they retrieved it.”

“The carrier was killed?” She frowned as she looked at the plethora of flowers on the ceiling of her room. “I need to contact the hunter’s guild, then, to tell them their comrade will not return.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it,” Vaust promised and folded his arms. “I think he had some other deliveries, but they were incinerated in the fight.”

“I see you were pushed quite far,” Nauru noted and toyed with her hair as she looked at him. “What happened?”

He grimaced as he recalled the fight. “It appears we have new enemies—ones who seek the malefics themselves. They wore no insignia and didn’t claim allegiance with any guild or council we are aware of. The man I fought did say they were working for someone but would not name names.”

“I see. We should be mindful,” she said, her voice calm. “It seems your opponent must have been powerful.”

“It was more the location,” the mori stated slightly defensively. “He wielded a majestic that conjured and manipulated fire, something of an advantage in the woods. But that also meant there was no one around, which allowed me to—” He traced the black lines in his hair. “Well, you know. Hopefully, they do not remain for much longer. I can’t say I care for the look.”

“You must not hate it too much.” She chuckled. “You are one of the few who can truly harmonize with their majestic. It would reflect that if you wished it to.”

Vaust simply shrugged as he crossed the room to sit on one of the larger chairs. “It might merely be something left from Myazma’s previous wielder. It seems disrespectful to try to take it out.”

“Well, that’s very charming of you,” Nauru said as she descended the stairs to her bed. “You said new enemies. What were the others?”

“One was a giant—some kind of golem I think,” he explained as he began to unstrap his boots. “He referred to it as a ghoul and it appeared to be made of flesh.”

“Blood Magic?” Her demeanor shifted to one of concern at the description.

“Potentially,” he conceded reluctantly. “If it was, it was quite advanced. More likely a majestic or malefic power.” He ran a hand over his face. “It wore the Demon Mask.”

“A golem?” She scowled, baffled by the revelation. “That is rather concerning.”

“I very much agree.” Vaust snorted as he took his boots off. “That is the only confirmed kill I have out of the mess. The last one was the fire mage’s partner, who stole the box and the kids recovered it. I assume she is an assassin of some kind—although ‘she’ might be relative. Both the young diviner and I saw a woman, whereas Asla and Devon are adamant that she was a he. I suspect that Devol’s majestic enables him to see the true form more clearly, which means ‘he’ is probably more appropriate although my mind constantly reminds me of what I saw, so it’s somewhat confusing. From what they told me, she—he—told them that he has a rune that alters his appearance. On top of that, he also had a malefic.”

“And they fought him?” Nauru’s eyes widened in amazement.

“I believe the thief was holding back,” he said thoughtfully. “It seems he regards fights as a sporting encounter. I couldn’t get a good look at him in action, but he was able to detect me and shake me off. This isn’t some run-of-the mill ruffian.” He glanced at her. “Devol told me he has the Madman’s Eye.”

Nauru’s eyes narrowed. “It seems logical, then, that he killed the count in the Britana Kingdom.”

“And twenty-three of his men.” Vaust reminded her. “The count was going increasingly mad so he was using it. Given that one of the prerequisites is

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