Loen, Kingdom, Backlund, Rose Street, Harvest Church
-Dominique De Sade-
"I take it that your talk was fruitful?" She asked her half-brother, as he and detective Moriarty returned to the main prayer hall of the Harvest Church.
"More than I expected." Abel nodded in response, glancing at the detective, "Sherlock's tastes are quite broad, even Demoness' can't escape his grasp."
Oh? She watched as the gentlemanly smile on Sherlock's face froze, following the shift in his expression with faint curiosity.
Ever since she became a Vampire, it wasn't only the craving for her beloved brother's blood that she gained. Her body had improved drastically, strength enough to bend metal as if it were butter, speed fast enough to leave afterimages in her wake, senses so keen she could hear the words of people from across a ballroom, and remember the distinct smell of each person she encountered.
The spells and abilities over Darkness, Shadows, and the Moon came as naturally as breathing. With but a thought, the Wings of Darkness could unfurl from the gloom, illusory and bat-like, granting her bursts of speed or a brief glide over obstacles. These same wings could dissolve into a swarm of shrieking, phantom bats, harrying and distracting prey.
A curl of her fingers could extend the Claw of Corrosion, nails etched with mystical symbols that let her slice through steel and strip away scale, hide, or enchanted skin as though it were paper.
If she willed it, the shadows themselves could twist into Abyss Shackles, binding foes in inky chains. The Embrace was also at her disposal to turn an individual into her kind, though only if she had excess Vampire characteristics in her body.
Unlike, The Embrace, Blood Servant Conversion—an upgrade of the Beast Tamer's Taming ability—was more vicious. It granted an elevated constitution, washed away any previous ailments, and made them immune to most possible illnesses—all at the cost of being her servant for life, unable to disobey her orders.
She was no longer human. Her grace and beauty had sharpened into something inhumanly magnetic, her speed and agility far beyond mortal limits, her flesh knitting closed in moments from wounds that would cripple others. Even her lifespan stretched toward three centuries.
However, this transformation from human to something more naturally came with a price, as most things do. One such price was that her heart had become a glaring weak point.
Dominique had instinctively known this the moment she became a Vampire, yet it still struck her as strange.
It was common sense even for humans that the heart was a vital spot to be protected at all costs, less said about vampires.
Her theory was that those born as natural vampires — Sanguines—were so accustomed to their superior strength and regeneration that they developed a certain arrogance. If that doll-loving fool Emlyn was any indication, this sense of superiority was practically a racial trait.
Perhaps, this instinctive wariness toward heart injuries was more for them than for Beyonders who had ascended through the Sequences to become vampires.
After all, when a Vampire's Beyonder Characteristic came from a dead Sanguine, it made perfect sense that some of their instincts would linger.
The other weakness—or rather, what she considered the major weakness—was lightning. Lightning was especially lethal against dark-aligned creatures like vampires and Sanguines. The Sun, in her opinion, was little more than a nuisance; it didn't burn, but it was like an itch that never went away, a mosquito bite that refused to heal.
Luckily, Backlund was always dark and foggy. The Sun's full shine was a rarity here, hidden behind clouds and coal smoke. It was no wonder Sanguine were abundant in this city, it was practically built for them.
Anyways, she digressed.
Sherlock Moriarty was a Seer, Dominique was sure of it.
Having lived with two Seers in her family all her life, she'd learned to spot some of the tells, especially from Antoine, back when he had first become a Beyonder. Now, it was impossible to read her elder brother.
Monsieur Moriarty's movements, however, were too purposeful and precise to be natural, and now, by Abel's words, those calculated motions were broken.
Emlyn, still kneeling before the Sacred Emblem of Life—and no doubt inwardly cursing her the entire time—turned his head toward the Seer with open disdain.
"Hmph. You mocked me about my beautiful dolls while pretending to be a gentleman, but your hobbies are worse than mine." Though he spoke under his breath, everyone present was a Beyonder, and thus, heard the Sanguine's words.
"The Mother's Church treats all people equally." Father Utravsky said with a devout voice, "Life is sacred in all its forms, and the act of creating it is never something to be despised."
His kindly gaze softened further, deep lines at the corners of his eyes crinkling, "Even the union with a Demoness brings forth life, a blessing in the Mother's eyes. Every child is a miracle, no matter the circumstances of their birth."
Dominique nodded along with Father Utravsky. She wasn't particularly disgusted at Detective Moriarty for entangling himself with Demonesses, though she would certainly disapprove, as they were Witches known to bring calamity and pain to people.
However, if it was simply a matter of having sex with one, or even marrying one, without causing suffering or harm to innocents, she could accept it. The only thing she found truly strange was how a Demoness who had once been a man could accept sleeping with another man, even after advancing past Sequence 6: Demoness of Pleasure.
And how could an actual man not mind having sex with a former man?
Was this one of those cases of "Any hole being a goal"—as Emperor Roselle had once drunkenly proclaimed at a party?
As vulgar as the phrase was, Dominique was willing to give an innocent Demoness the benefit of the doubt, if only because her own mother happened to be one.
Thankfully, her mother was one of the rare female Demonesses. Dominique didn't even want to imagine how she would have felt if she'd had to call her mother "Dad" and the Earl "Father."
As for why her mother had become a Demoness, even thinking about it made Dominique's cheeks warm. Her mother had never directly told her the reason—only that Sequence 6 was called Demoness of Pleasure, and that her father had wanted her to take the Pathway.
Putting two and two together wasn't hard. In the end, the Earl was truly an Intisian.
"You do know how to joke, Abel." Sherlock's voice brought her out of her thoughts.
Joke? Her gaze moved to her brother, and he merely gave a faint, knowing smile in return, saying nothing further.
Seeing him offer no retort, Dominique knew it was all a jest, though the ease with which they exchanged it caught her attention.
She knew her brother had a natural pull to him, one that let him break ice easily with strangers, bring together those of lower rank and find common ground, ingratiate himself—there'd even been gossip here and there about how Abel would be a better heir than Antoine. Something worrying, yes, but fortunately Abel had already made it clear he didn't want to compete with their elder brother for the position. Still, it was something she kept an eye on, just in case.
So, yes, while Abel had that pull, he never acted overly familiar with the nobles the way he was with Sherlock now. The two of them carried themselves like long-time friends, comfortable in a way that seemed less like polite camaraderie and more like shared history.
It must be related to what they talked about, She mused.
"I'm afraid I have other matters to attend to," Sherlock said, his gentlemanly smile returning with practiced ease. He politely inclined his head at her and Father Utravsky, before tipping his hat at Abel, "Until next time."
….
-Abel De Sade-
"What an interesting person, don't you think?" Abel said, moving his gaze from Mr. Fool's departing figure to Dominique.
"He's a Seer." His sister said in a matter of fact tone, making him pause.
The white-haired man raised an eyebrow interest, "You were able to tell?"
"You too?" She returned his question with her own.
Abel chuckled, "I'm a Monster." He said, as if it explained everything.
"His movements were too calculated." Dominique replied, as if her words too didn't need further explanation.
Abel ignored Emlyn's gaze that seemed to be looking at them as if they were insane or something, turning his attention to the giant Bishop.
"Father Utravsky, I take it that you heard of my problems, or rather, what I experienced?"
Father Utravsky nodded with a gentle smile, "I'll have the members of the Church start making medicines for illnesses."
Abel's eyebrows shot up, "Just like that? It hasn't been confirmed if what I saw in the dream is the future." He knew that this bishop was perhaps one of the kindest souls in Backlund, but to readily begin making medicines for thousands of people…
He hadn't ever met anyone this altruistic in the Modern Era.
In response to the question, Father Utravsky's gentle smile shifted a little, it was still kind, but it had a knowing edge to it. "The Mother loves all Her children, even the wayward ones."
What…?
Abel's expression didn't so much as twitch. His face still had the same questioning look as before, and his posture relaxed yet confident. It was courtesy of Calm & Collected and Presentation, that kept every flicker of surprise buried deep, smothered before it could reach the surface.
His eyes caught Dominique's, who smirked knowingly, her lips parted, fangs peeking through as she mouthed, Wayward Child.
Clearly she was amused at his impiety finally being called out.
You're too cheeky for someone who'd been moaning wantonly this morning. Abel suppressed the twitch of a smile. He really did need to increase his physical strength—Dominique's stamina as a vampire far outstripped his own, and if he truly wanted to wear her down, he'd have to close that gap. Right now, she could still walk away with that same smug little smirk, even after hours. That wouldn't do.
Perhaps I should become her Blood Servant? It was a thought he'd entertained for a while—one that would end his current physical helplessness. The problem lay in the fine print: Dominique would have absolute control over him.
Protected Soul would shield him from possession, soul strikes, and attempts to subvert his will. But Blood Servant Conversion… was that purely bodily control, or did it extend to mind and spirit?
Abel trusted his sister not to do anything malicious. At worst, she might immobilize him just to smugly ride his dick, taking perverse satisfaction in the act of dominance. The real risk lay in the what if—if she were ever controlled by someone else, wouldn't they gain direct access to his body like a puppet on strings?
Now's not the time for such thoughts. He pushed the thought aside and inclined his head in gratitude toward Father Utravsky.
"Thank you, Father. If you require anything for supplies, rare herbs, whatever is needed to make the medicines, I'll cover the cost." It was the least he could offer to someone preparing, at their own expense, for an uncertain future.
"May the Mother bless you," Father Utravsky said, his deep, rumbling voice warm with sincerity.
I've already been blessed and corrupted by the Earth Mother's evil twin. The thought was almost comical in its irony — receiving a boon—Depravity-Touched— from the Mother Goddess of Depravity, while years of prayers to the Earth Mother herself had earned him nothing. It was easy to see why so many turned to the so-called Evil Gods; at least they acted, instead of sitting on high like untouchable symbols.
Still—
"Praise the Earth. Praise the Mother of All Things." Had he misjudged Father Utravsky? Why else would the man have him praise the Mother not long after he'd praised the Fool, and under Her gaze no less?
How was he supposed to get out of that conversation with Her later without losing a piece of himself?
He pushed the silly thoughts aside and addressed the bishop directly. "Father, if it's alright with you, I'd like to pray to the Mother." There was no need for any purification, the Father's Sequence 6: Dawn Paladin abilities were wasted here. The ravings he'd heard from Fors' curse hadn't touched him in the slightest, despite Dominique's concern.
"Abel, the ravings—" Dominique began, only to falter as Father Utravsky laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder, his expression warm.
"In this matter, praying to the Mother will help."
She hesitated for a moment before nodding in understanding. The Father was a person worthy of their trust.
"Thank you, Father," Abel said once more before settling onto the pew. Dominique followed, taking the seat beside him.
He glanced at Emlyn who had stopped kneeling before the Sacred Emblem and was now methodically wiping down the candle stand. His gaze lingered on him for a moment, before he closed his eyes.
In the quiet stillness of the church, Abel's voice dropped to a low murmur, reciting the Earth Mother's Honorific Name.
"The Source of All Life;
The Mother of All Things; The Propagation of the Fertile Land; The Symbol of Reproduction;
The Destination and the Starting Point of Everything."
He paused for a moment in consideration before inwardly shrugging and saying, "I want to talk to you."
He barely registered Dominique's quiet gasp at his disrespectful tone, as his awareness suddenly began to sink—only to snap back a moment later as ProtectedSoul intercepted whatever had been about to happen.
She wants to talk in a dream? He cautiously lowered his perk's defenses, ready to raise them again at the slightest sign of trouble.
_____________________________________________
The first thing Abel heard was the rush of water, the second was the earthy, grassy scent that filled his lungs.
When he opened his eyes, the sight before him was almost too vivid to be real. In the distance, a towering mountain rose into a sky of brilliant blue, its jagged peaks crowned with drifting clouds. From its side, a great waterfall spilled in a silver-white torrent, crashing into the river below. The water cut a winding path through the lush valley, its surface shimmering under the sunlight, where fish darted like living jewels beneath the ripples.
Tall trees, their canopies thick and verdant, surrounded him. Birds—bright-feathered and lively—wheeled and sang above, while in the shadows between the trees, a small herd of deer grazed unbothered.
It was a place untouched by the smoke or steel that was familiar to Backlund. Its beauty made him consider sitting by the riverside for a few hours.
But, he couldn't ignore the elephant in the room, or rather, the dream.
Nestled a few steps away from him, on the gentle rise beside the river sat a wooden cabin. Weathered yet sturdy, its thatched roof and small garden gave it an almost homely air.
With a reluctant sigh, Abel rose from the damp grass, brushing off his trousers before making his way toward the cabin. Once he reached the door, he didn't knock right away, as the reality of what he was about to do suddenly hit him.
I'm about to talk to a God in their divine kingdom…
Yes, he had encountered Outer Deities before, and had even been transmigrated by Jump-chan and his Other Self—but those were all one-sided events. They weren't something he had initiated, nor had any control over. Naturally, it was only reasonable for him to feel a sliver of trepidation about the conversation ahead.
Taking a steadying breath, he knocked—slowly—once, twice, three times.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
"Come in."
A shiver ran down Abel's spine as he heard the voice. It was maternal in the truest sense—warm, gentle, and impossibly soothing. He had to resist the urge of blurting out mom at just hearing her voice.
Perhaps, maybe, I may have bitten off more than I can chew? He mused, slowly opening the door.
The moment he entered, Abel's breath caught in his throat as his eyes fell on Her.
The ultimate MILF appeared before him.
She had a voluptuous figure that seemed sculpted to put mortal women to shame, every curve flowing seamlessly into the next. Her blonde hair fell in soft waves down her back, crowned by a wreath of fresh blooms that seemed to never wilt. The dress she wore was adorned with flowers in full bloom, the fabric clinging just enough to accentuate her thick hips and the generous swell of her breasts.
Even with his mind remaining clear and calm despite his captivation, Abel still felt the pull to step forward, to sink into her embrace and let that impossible maternal warmth wash over him.
And then the corruption of the Mother Goddess of Depravity slammed into his Spirit Body like a tide, violent and invasive. His protections held, but the sensation was impossible to ignore.
That's when he noticed another problem. A sudden, undeniable bulge pressed against the fabric of his trousers.
Huh? His brows knit in confusion. That shouldn't even be possible. Comprehension should have rendered him immune to corruption entirely.
The next instant, realisation hit him. Deny the Devil… it filtered out the downsides but kept the "beneficial" aspects. Apparently, a spike in libido counted as beneficial.
His lips twitched. Not too long ago he was wondering how to keep up with Dominique in bed, and now, he was popping an erection before a goddess.
Did his Other Self and Jump-chan think this was funny? Were they prepared to reincarnate him again if Earth Mother gets offended?
"Even if the corrupt does not take hold, the more you think about Her, the more corruption will gather." The voice—soft, warm, and endlessly gentle—brought his attention back to the present.
With a straight face—pointedly ignoring the bulge in his trousers—Abel walked over and took the wooden chair opposite the Earth Mother.
Then, in response to Her earlier remark, he asked evenly, "Are you not worried?"
She didn't answer immediately. Instead, She lifted the wooden teapot from the table between them, pouring its contents into two cups. The scent rose to meet him—earthy, sweet… and faintly damp, as if it had been steeped in rain-soaked soil.
Curiously, Abel picked up his cup. His brows lifted in surprise the moment the liquid touched his tongue.
It was unlike anything he had ever drunk. There was the freshness of leaves after rain, the sweetness of ripe fruit on a warm afternoon, and beneath it all, a grounding bitterness, like the soil that birthed life itself.
He paused, catching himself romanticizing tea, then glanced at the Goddess. She smiled gently in return.
"The Summoner has dealt with it, no?"
Abel's expression stayed calm—his heart did not. "How do you know it isn't The Fool?" Her words almost made him leap from his chair. Did She know? Had he been exposed before he even made his debut?
"The Fool," She replied patiently, taking a sip of Her tea, "would simply Graft the concept of corruption onto an object to remove it."
That…wasn't the answer I was expecting. He had hoped to gauge whether She knew the Fool was a faker. Instead, She'd casually revealed one of the Authorities of the Seer Pathway's Sequence 0—Grafting.
If She did know the Fool was a fraud, She clearly had no intention of saying so. More importantly, She bore no malice toward him. A god with ill intent could have ended him as easily as drawing breath.
Anyways, if the Earth Mother was going to give out knowledge so freely, then why not make the most of it?
"Goddess, do you know about Mysteries?" he asked respectfully, ignoring the faint stirrings from the Gray Fog within.
A soft laugh—like a warm breeze—left Her lips. "Feel free to call me Mother." She continued, "Did the Summoner tell you about Him? Lord of Mysteries is the title of the Great Old One presiding over the Fool, Error, and Door pathways." Her green eyes shone with maternal warmth… though Abel suspected She was just as keenly watching his reaction.
"Lord of Mysteries…" Why did that sound like the name of a novel? And what did She mean, call Her Mother? Could She not see his throbbing erection? Granted, it wasn't because of Her, but the request still felt… awkward, especially when he could admit, that She was attractive.
He pushed the dangerous thought aside and replied to Her earlier question. "My Lord says it's fine to attend the Tarot Club, but warned me to be wary of The Fool when He begins regaining His old strength." Abel paused before adding, "He said that when the Fool returns to the Era, it is unknown whether He will be merely The Fool… or Mysteries."
The Goddess placed the teacup on the table, and after a moment of quiet, She gave him a meaningful smile. "You're flexible with your faith, Abel."
Abel sat straighter at hearing his name, his lips almost twitching at being called out for heresy by the very goddess he had praised hundreds of times over the years.
Should he apologize for not being devout enough? Or perhaps throw Mr. Fool under the bus? After all… how could he, a mere mortal, possibly suspect the Fool was a fraud?
"Regarding My Lord, I don't worship Him." His words instantly caught the Goddess's attention, a flicker of curiosity now appearing in those motherly eyes.
Abel picked up his teacup, taking a sip before he spoke, "My Lord does not want worshippers who bow so low they worship the very floor He walks on. He has no need for believers… for He is the Shepherd of All Creatures."
There was no reverence in his tone, as if to prove that he held those words as truth, only respect.
He let the words settle before continuing, "Believers twist faith. Whether knowingly or unknowingly. Some out of greed, some out of fear, and some because they see only what they wish to see. They take the name of their god and wield it like a blade, carving out their own desires in His name. My Lord has seen what such worship becomes—the rot it breeds—and so He chose another path."
Abel's gold eyes stared into the Earth Mother's who smiled patiently, listening quietly to his words. "He became the Shepherd for all things in the Myriad Realms, caring not for whether they sang His name or spat upon it. He Anchors the world when the inhabitants cannot, or will not, do so themselves. He remembers their Names—every creature, every soul that has ever walked beneath His gaze."
The Summoner's eyes fell on the greenish-brown tea in his hand before, "And once He traverses the Myriad Realms once more, He Summons those He has Shepherded… to help Him Shepherd another realm in turn."
"For Eternity." The motherly Goddess finally spoke up.
Abel gave a nod, "For Eternity."
After a stretch of silence, the Earth Mother finally spoke. "Your faith in The Summoner is strong." Her tone was still the same gentle tone, no recrimination or disapproval whatsoever.
It was unsettling in its own way, that She could hold such perfect command over Her emotions. Abel could only manage such composure through the aid of Calm & Collected; for Her, it seemed as natural as breathing.
Or perhaps a god's emotional spectrum was simply not the same as a mortal's? The thought lingered for a moment before he pushed it aside, answering Her instead.
"If by faith you mean my confidence and respect for My Lord, and not religion wise, then that is indeed the case," Abel nodded, his expression serious, "To continue doing what He does—through eternity—deserves respect. No one is asking Him to. No one is paying tribute. There is no reward waiting at the end of it. And yet… He still does it."
Please put some respect on his name.
Abel honestly felt he deserved it—for coming up with such nonsense… no, lore… no, background—whatever the right word was—for himself as The Summoner. If someone had approached him, telling him about their Lord and Saviour The Summoner, the same way he had just spoken—of the Shepherd who bore the weight of all worlds without asking for worship—he would have signed up on the spot.
"I see, such an individual is indeed worthy of respect," The Mother Goddess nodded in agreement. "Does The Summoner have a message He wants to convey?"
Finally, the pleasantries were over. Now they could speak of matters that actually mattered.
The Monster straightened, his expression sharpening. "My Lord asked what you think of Grounded Beyonders—Beyonders who can advance without ever worrying about losing control, no matter their Sequence. And what of Beyonders who no longer need to fear corruption?"
For the first time, Abel caught something different in the Goddess's eyes—surprise. He could hardly blame Her. Such a possibility could shatter the foundation of the Beyonder world. Every Sequence carried the risk of losing control, and that risk grew with each advancement. It was the single greatest bottleneck in the path forward, the reason why high Sequences were rare, while low and mid Sequences were the common forces in organisations.
And what he was offering now was something that could change the game entirely—a way for an organization, provided they had the Characteristics, to produce high Sequence Beyonders without any risk.
"My Lord said to grant these perks, you must recite His Honorific Name, and it only lasts for one day. So after twenty-four hours, reciting His Honorific Name again is required," Abel explained. It was better to be upfront now, so when She recited The Summoner's name later to finalize the deal, she wouldn't feel cheated.
"Is there anything else?" The blonde goddess asked with a soothing smile.
Abel shook his head but stopped midway, struck by a sudden clarity about a lingering problem. He rose quickly and bowed his head toward the Earth Mother. "Goddess, I have a favour to ask you."
"Speak freely, Abel."
"Dominique and Veronica, I'm worried for their safety, especially the possibility of hearing the Primordial Moon's, or more specifically, the Mother Goddess of Depravity's, ravings."
A soft, peaceful hum sounded in response to his request, and after a moment, the Earth Mother's voice came, calm and reassuring. "I'll have them notified."
Abel bowed deeply, feeling a weight finally lifted off his shoulders, "Thank you, Goddess." He straightened, only to suddenly be pulled into a warm embrace. The softness of her body pressed against him was like stepping back into the safety of childhood—an embrace that promised protection, comfort, and an endless, unconditional love.
A delicate hand slid up to cradle his face, tilting his chin so their eyes met.
I think I need an adult…Her beauty was too striking. And why was her face moving closer to his lips?
Then, her head lifted slightly as something feather-light brushed his forehead, a kiss.
"Thinking nothing of it, my Blessed child." Her voice was a soothing murmur, and was it his imagination, or was there a teasing lilt in her tone?
Suddenly, his vision darkened, and the last thought swirling in his mind was raw and unmistakably clear:
I was bamboozled!
….
-Earth Mother-
She watched as Abel's figure vanished from the dream, and then looked to the left, "What's your opinion, Amanises?"
Suddenly, in the place She was looking, a figure began to materialize beside her, not stepping into existence, but sketching itself into being. Like an eraser drawing a figure back into view.
++++
A/N: This took a while to write. It was mainly the part about the Earth Mother to be honest.
Also I was thinking of changing things up. Instead of having interludes, I'll just switch between character PoVs like I did with Dominique and at the end Earth Mother. This way things can flow without people forgetting what happened before several long interludes before jumping back to Abel.