Chapter 401: Born with golden spoon
"We greet the Abyssal Hands..." The robed cultists bowed low to Brigid, their voices echoing together. Cassian stood beside her, rope looped around his wrists, the other end dangling lazily from her hand. He looked dazed, like a captive on display.
By the next day, Cassian and Brigid had secured a mount, cut down a handful of stray demon-spawn, and finally stumbled onto the cultists themselves. They stuck to Naset Lawk’s plan—Cassian playing the obedient slave, rope in hand, while Brigid led the way.
The cult leader stepped forward, his hood shadowing most of his face. "Weren’t you supposed to deal with the reinforcements heading for Karmen Earldom?"
Brigid’s jaw tightened, her composure a little too stiff to be convincing. The fury simmering beneath her mask was plain as daylight.
"Seems word hasn’t reached you yet," she said, voice cool, clipped. Then her tone dropped heavy, grim. "Everyone assigned to that task is dead. Magisteria sent another Seventh Circle warrior—along with plenty of other powerful allies—straight to reinforce the Earldom’s front lines."
Gasps and whispers rippled through the cultists—terror plain on their faces. A Seventh Circle warrior wasn’t just strong; they were a force of nature, capable of leveling cities in the blink of an eye.
The leader, whose presence alone marked him as a Circle warrior, stepped forward. His voice wavered despite his composure. "Then... the Flesh Mender?"
Brigid let her shoulders slump, her tone trembling with just enough fear to sell it. "Master also met his demise at his hand. I only survived because I’d been sent on a different task when the Circle warrior struck..." Her voice trailed off as though weighed down by memory.
The men stiffened, spooked even more than she pretended to be. "We must inform the commander at once," the leader said, panic cutting through his command. "This changes everything for the assault." He turned to hurry back toward camp, the others falling in line.
Cassian, rope around his wrists, kept his dazed look steady. Inside, though, he reeled—this wasn’t just some rabble. Every one of these cultists was a Circle warrior. The leader alone radiated a domain strong enough that Cassian could feel it pressing against him from several paces away—at least Third Circle.
Brigid held herself tall, her presence steady despite only being the mage-equivalent of a Third Circle warrior—a Pyraxis.
"You don’t need to abandon your post," she said firmly. "I can deliver the message. Just have someone guide me to the camp. There are... other matters I need to explain as well." Her gaze flicked briefly toward Cassian, and the others followed it, curiosity sparking at the sight of the red-haired man in ragged clothes. A fellow Circle warrior, clearly, but bound and under her control—it only made them more intrigued.
Still, none dared question it. The leader gave a curt nod and gestured to one of his men. "He’ll take you to camp. But I must insist—you inform the commander immediately, Abyssal Hand. The situation at the Earldom could be decisive. It might finally give us the opening we need... to carve a true path for the cult across the continent."
"I understand..." Brigid gave a curt nod as the cult’s Circle warrior led them out of the jungle. Keeping pace at a run, she motioned Cassian onto the mount with her.
Cassian leaned back, a hidden smirk tugging at his lips. "Nice performance back there. All that fury and terror—you almost had me convinced you were actually feeling it."
Brigid’s jaw tightened. The truth was she had been furious and terrified—none of that was an act. The only lies were the ones about him being her slave, and her supposed escape from Naset Lawk. Remembering that name made her expression darken all over again.
"Shut up," she snapped.
The cult warrior guiding them glanced back at her sharp tone. Cassian immediately shifted, letting his expression go slack and dazed, dropping the smirk as Brigid barked, "What are you staring at? Guide the way."
The men bowed before moving on, their leader still guiding the way. Cassian, watching quietly, pieced a few things together about the cult.
First: mages clearly outranked Circle warriors here. Under normal circumstances, there was no chance in hell a warrior of equal standing would bow to a mage—unless that mage had noble or royal blood. Yet here he was, watching a Circle warrior defer to Brigid with respect, even obedience, as if it were natural.
He filed that away. He could always confirm it later with Brigid. For now, he listened.
The warrior—his domain pricking at Cassian like sharp needles—answered Brigid’s question with measured tone:
"The Cardinal Mother Superior commands four battlefields across this region... including the one at Karmen Earldom."
"Fuck... we’re in trouble," Brigid muttered under her breath as the Circle warrior kept talking, sketching out the situation. She’d been cut off from news while on the run, so most of this was fresh to her.
"The Mother Superior usually remains at the main third base," the warrior explained. "But fortunately, she’s been visiting our camp. You’ll be able to deliver this news to her directly."
Cassian leaned closer, voice low. "Why do you look like you just swallowed poison?"
Brigid wasn’t trembling like before, but fear clung to her face all the same. "Because," she said, forcing steadiness into her tone, "that Mother Superior... is my grandmother."
The warrior glanced back with a bright, almost eager smile. "You must be happy, Miss Brigid, to see her again, right?"
"Yeah. Ecstatic," Brigid said with a brittle smile. Cassian, though, could see right through it. She wasn’t relieved—she was terrified. And he couldn’t help wondering: what kind of grandmother makes her own blood afraid to breathe in her shadow?
That aside, the real shock wasn’t the Mother Superior herself—it was that Brigid’s grandmother held that title while commanding four battlefields. Cassian hadn’t expected Brigid to be tied this high up the chain, let alone linked to the grand disciple of the "Artistic Butcher," the cult’s poster child. Now she turned out to also be the granddaughter of another top dog, a woman everyone called Mother Superior.
Seriously—who the hell was Brigid?