The two of them crouched in the shadows on either side of the corridor, their backs against the rust-eaten bars of a cell door.
"Tell me, heretic, wasn't that thing just a walking corpse with a giant axe?" Jeanne asked, one hand gripping the black longsword. After unhappily absorbing the life force of her companion's corpse, the first thought that had crossed her mind was to send the heretic before her straight to hell. She had, in fact, acted on that thought almost immediately. And the pact had promptly taught her the consequences of violating its terms—the feeling of her soul being dragged toward the lowest labyrinth.
"We saw that thing on the first level of the dungeon—purifying it is no harder than burning a dark god worshipper who's lost all will to resist."
Realizing what was happening, she had instantly aborted her attack, only to see Sassel turn to face her with an expression of utter non-surprise. He had clearly expected it.
"How did you people come in here without any intel on this dungeon? Didn't the Cross Church's texts tell you how different the butchers of the deep prison are from the guards at the entrance?" Sassel studied the subtle shifts in her expression.
The real question is why a Burner would come to a forgotten place like this. Even I, who hastily prepared for this reincarnation, don't fully understand this shithole. What hope do these madwomen have, with their penchant for burning priceless magical texts?
"Claudius's Hounds. We followed their tracks here."
She said it while sinking deeper into the shadows.
The Empress's Hounds. What a fucking unpleasant name.
A shadow crossed his eyes. That madwoman was the one who had hunted him to the point of needing reincarnation.
"Are they all dead?"
"A stupid question. The answer is obvious," Jeanne said in a low voice. "We only found their tracks."
Sassel's mood soured.
If I had just destroyed those magical texts left in the Senate before the Empress's coup, I wouldn't have ended up in this state at the hands of her Hounds.
"Don't tell me you were forced into this hasty reincarnation because you got caught by the Hounds?" He noticed the Burner was wearing a mocking smile. "Did you ever consider the day of the coup when you were serving the Roman Senate? Your life is full of misfortune, heretic. You might as well just kill yourself here and avoid an even greater tragedy."
Sassel met her gaze calmly, thinking, I dare you. Stab me. He noted that after her failed attempt to violate the pact, the Burner hadn't tried to backstab him again. Once they reached the corridor, her personality had also become more restrained... mostly. Only occasionally did her vicious nature inadvertently burst through in her words. It was understandable. If she lacked the ability to assess a situation, she never would have climbed to a position where she was leading knight-protectors on heretic hunts.
"If we run into those Hounds, we kill them. Do you agree?"
"The Lord's hatred for the Hounds isn't as deep as His hatred for heretics. If I had a choice, I'd absolutely work with them... No, I don't want to work with anyone. You should all be burned to ash," Jeanne said. "It's too dangerous here. If you want to slaughter Hounds, you do it yourself. I don't want any extra complications."
"Tch... whatever. I don't want complications either. For now, I'm a beloved knight of the Cross Church and have absolutely nothing to do with the Empress's Hounds."
He muttered to himself, placing his fingers on the floor and reciting an incantation to learn how long ago the tracks had been left.
"You don't even know this body's name," Jeanne said, her expression turning serious. Despite the barb in her words, Sassel could see she had pushed aside her extraneous emotions. Her movements were slight, showing the discipline of a true butcher.
"I'll find out when I get back to the Church with you. At that point, you can say that 'Sassel' is the church name you bestowed upon me," he said, recalling the patrol schedule of the tracks' owner and the interval between passes. "As for the reason, you can claim you were immensely grateful that your loyal knight saved your life."
"That's disgusting. I think I'm going to puke. Are the things you think about always this vile?"
Go ahead, puke your guts out. The bearded face turned to her. "It's simple enough, effective enough, and it can cover up a lot of things. Or do you have a better idea?"
"..."
Sassel let out two cold laughs in his mind, his gaze going past Jeanne. "This prison level is a circle. We should follow these tracks," he said. "We need to see if the patrol route has a gate leading to another level. But if we accidentally run into them..."
"Then we purify those disgusting things," Jeanne's gaze met his.
"I'm a mage. I should be in the back during the fight."
"Don't fuck with me. Is that sword in your hand just for show? Do you have any idea how many Church members have died at the hands of your enchanted cold steel? If you dare hang back, I will absolutely behead you before my soul gets dragged to the lowest labyrinth."
"How remarkable," Sassel shrugged, then gestured for her to move. "Follow me."
The dark corridor was lined with rusted iron doors. Most were shut tight, but occasionally they could see one or two ajar in the gloom. Peeking through the cracks revealed flayed corpses lying on the floor or hanging from the ceilings. The small rooms always contained a brazier, lit for some unknown purpose. The red light flowed slowly over the jutting bones of a corpse's broken leg, like spreading mold.
At the end of the circular corridor, a light was moving. They could hear the shuffling of heavy, padded footsteps and the sound of swallowing as something chewed on raw flesh. The vaulted ceiling here was high, and demonic reliefs with blood-gem eyes stared down from the walls, their pale red, rat-like gazes tracking the black sorcerer and the inquisitor. The light trembled up ahead, casting a tall, thin shadow that fell upon his glittering eyes hidden beneath his black hair, and upon her soft golden hair, which had regained some of its luster from the life force of her dead companion.
The light stopped—the monster was no longer moving.
The pair halted, concealed in the shadows of a corner.
"Why do you think it stopped?"
"Death," Sassel said, a strange light glinting in his eyes. "It's the butcher, the one that guards the deep dungeon. I can sense its death."
"Are you sure?"
Jeanne stared into his eyes for a moment. Her lips had regained some color in the damp air, and her throat seemed moisturized, her voice no longer as dry and low as before.
"Who else do you think would be here besides us?" the black sorcerer tested her.
"—The heretic Empress's Hounds," Jeanne let out a twisted laugh. "Those annoying flies have been hiding in the Holy City for a long time. We followed their tracks here—our goal is to capture them and send them to the torture chambers. If they harbor malice toward the Church, we burn them. If we can't find any malice, we hang them."
Sassel pressed a hand firmly on her shoulder.
"What?"
"We're killing the patrolman standing by the butcher's corpse," Sassel said. "I need some souls to construct more spells, and I need to get information about the Hounds from that butcher."
"And how does that help me get out of here?" Jeanne shot back, completely uncooperative.
Fuck, this woman is a pain in the ass to deal with.
"Since the Hounds came to this dungeon willingly, they must know what's in here, and they must know how to get out—am I right?" he said, privately thinking, If this isn't enough to convince you, I'll just knock you out and use you as bait.
"—That is a logical reason," she replied with an indifference that showed not a hint of awkwardness. "Also, I don't want to see you slacking off in the coming fight."
"My lady, how could you say such a thing? I am your loyal Cross Church knight, how could I possibly slack off?"
"I despise the sarcastic tone you use, but you'd be perfect for the stage, heretic."