Loen Kingdom, Winter County, Amantha mountain range.
Saint Zacharias Tenbrook knelt before the altar of the Evernight Goddess in the Cathedral of Serenity. His mind lingered on recent events. He tapped his chest four times in a clockwise motion, whispering, "Praise the Lady."
Footsteps echoed softly.
A man wearing red gloves entered.
"Go ahead," the Saint said, rising to face him.
"It's a failure," Jacob reported.
Jacob Wilder was a Nighthawk, part of the Church of Eternal Darkness's Beyonder division. Among them were elites known as Red Gloves, sometimes called Hunting Dogs. He was one of them.
Thirty years ago, revelations from the Divine stopped.
Soon after, the Blessed of the Gods and the Angels vanished.
The higher-ups panicked as the inexperienced filled their places. Then a Sequence 5 Guardian, Zacharias Tenbrook stepped forward alongside a few others, concealing the truth from the public and guiding the churches back to stability.
Five years after the Silence of the Gods, the pitch-black ocean shrouded in fog disappeared, revealing the continent that was once the Abyss.
The churches learned one thing.
Balance was fragile.
When one side vanished, the other followed.
The question was simple.
Which side vanished first?
Over the years, most churches regained Saints to govern them, but there was a limit to how far they could advance without divine guidance.
Beyond that point lay madness.
As for the new continent, it was named the Lawless Continent, or the Lawless Lands, for the devils and monstrous creatures that roamed it.
That wasn't all.
Cultists and followers of the Abyss migrated there, building towns that followed desire over law. The Blood Sanctify Sect and several hidden devil families eventually united to form the Unholy Church.
The only connection the orthodox churches had to that land was through his sister, who governed Port Justice. The so-called city of second chances.
"It was expected," Saint Tenbrook said.
"The Church of Eternal Darkness in Bayam has requested aid. Alongside them, the Church of the Fool and the Church of the Lord of Storms have also made the same request."
Saint Tenbrook raised an eyebrow. Three churches in the same city asking for help was no small matter.
"What's the report? What's happening in Bayam?"
"The gangs of Bayam are preparing for war against a new player, alongside a criminal known as Shark. On a deeper level, there are reports that both the Unholy Church and the Beyonder Movement are present in the city."
Saint Tenbrook did not believe in coincidence.
Not in Bayam.
Not where another Tenbrook lived.
Of the three siblings, the youngest had always been the most troublesome. With multiple events brewing, overlap was inevitable.
It would be less surprising to learn his brother was involved.
"Stop our current search," Tenbrook said. "Go to Bayam as my proxy. Gather Beyonders from the other churches and form a task force."
He paused briefly.
"Our priority is the Movement and the Unholy Church. As for the gangs, let them destroy themselves and minimize civilian casualties."
Jacob bowed and left.
Saint Tenbrook sat before the altar, taking up a pen and paper.
------------------------------------------------------------------To my dearest ape,
It has been years since I last wrote to you properly. I am sorry I left you with Father. I understand if you resent me.
You were the one who taught me what it meant to be a Guardian. I still believe I made the right choice.
I kept all your letters, though I never replied as I should have. I miss them. I even miss that ugly handwriting of yours.
Do you still enjoy chicken pie?
Do you still eat straight from the pot?
I heard from Father that you ran away to Bayam. How is life there?
Please write back. I will ask our sister to arrange a time for a family dinner.
With Glory,
Zacharias Tenbrook
Sage frowned as he read the letter, eating chicken pasta straight from the pot.
"Seriously?" he muttered. "He writes after all these years and gives me a paragraph?"
Miranda laughed as she folded the letter.
"You're still eating from the pot."
"Shut up. It's efficient."
For a month, Sage had remained inside Miranda's house, recovering from his injuries. Though the authorities had yet to identify him, the remaining three kings had already marked him as a threat.
They would have acted sooner, but with Miranda backing him and the Bliss supply suddenly disrupted, they were forced to focus on stabilizing their operations.
The crime machine of Bayam had lost a vital piece.
Now it struggled to adapt.
The word "Kings" left a bitter taste in Sage's mouth.
They called themselves rulers, but they were nothing more than businessmen playing dress-up. Profit, structure, order.
There was no thrill.
No danger.
No consequence.
Their little bouts of disagreement was just for show, keeping those unaware on their toes.
Sage had never considered himself a criminal.
He only did what others told him to do.
Yes, he broke the law.
But when he looked in the mirror, all he saw was a victim of circumstance.
A little wolf, trained to howl and dance on command.
Until his fangs turned.
And he bit the hand that held the leash.
He was liberated. Free to perform.
The remaining three kings would be his victims.
And Bayam would be his stage.
He would show them the thrill.
The danger.
The excitement.
He would be the consequence.
"Are you monologuing in your head?" Miranda asked.
Sage blinked.
"No. That's weird."
"So you were."
He sighed in defeat and finished his food, rinsing the pot clean
The heat on him had cooled.
That meant it was time to move again.
He threw on a proper set of clothes, holstered his pistol and knife, and messed up Miranda's hair on his way out.
Normally, a string of curses would follow but Sage was already gone.
He made his way toward the Red Theatre.
It was time to meet an old friend and continue redefining the meaning of crime.