This city... it is unchanged these past 2,000 years. Neither the eroding winds nor the quake have sapped its strength.

Ah, there you are, Rosencrantz!

Hardin... Go quickly... Go... to Leá Monde.

Ahh, truly the cardinal's own hand. Your will is strong, Guildenstern.

I... I could not...

Sydney, forgive me.

I was the one who set you up as the VKP's errand-boy. And... I have you to thank for my current lack of employ.

It seems the siege has begun...

Surely, it was men who killed them.

I wanted to help Father. As he helped me when I was born.

We live in peaceful, boring times. There's no rank to be had in killing on the fields of war. We must seize opportunity where we find it. Do you not agree, Guildenstern?

Xylda-nazam-sson-medayda!

Where did he go?

Haa...!?

Years past, during the inquisition of the heretics, the “Rood Inverse” was carved on them, an abjuration of the flesh... Those who bore this tattoo called it the Blood-Sin.

And the young Lord Joshua?

I... I'm the one you want.

When I escaped from prison, my brother was dead.

Come, help celebrate my ascension!

Of course, we have yet to spot Sydney, and there may be more inside the manor.

Welcome home, Ashley.

Your hands are tainted with blood. Truth or no, your sins are eternal.

...Nor do I recall us ever being friends. My friendship with the duke is fleeting as well.

The key-bearer, the duke, will soon die. If he dies without a successor, all is lost.

Wait right there―I'll fetch some water.

Diablerie!!

You killed our brother...

You have seen demons walk the city streets, heard the cries of the dead and damned. You deny these things? Are they illusions?

The Blood-Sin, you say? It has a familiar ring...

The Dark is strongest toward the center―the Great Cathedral. I have felt it. The entire city is a Circle of Magic!!

What?!

You're a slow one.

Is it... true? That tattoo... is the “key”...?

...I see.

I'm your partner, Callo Merlose.

!!

...A “Grimoire”?

I wanted money... I wanted my freedom. I sold my friend, my brother. But they did not set me free.

...I had a brother, half my age. He was gravely ill, and we knew not when he would leave us.

I think not. Our Ashley is a vessel, you see.

It is sad...

Brilliant!

Don't cry, Papa. See, I'm not crying. See?

Why have you done this!?

These streets already teem with souls. All that is needed is the key.

Fine, then. Let us be off.

The key-bearer, the duke, will soon die. If he dies without a successor, all is lost.

To the people, we were the “Knights of Law and Order,” to our enemies, we were the Parliament's hatchet-men.

For our realm is SICK. It suffurates with profiteers! Fawning merchants licking the boots of the nobility!

His real name and age are unknown. One of many self-styled prophets of the Apocalypse.