‘God, I love the Barrier Sense,’ John thought as he raised his hand. Knowing in advance that he was going to be in control of the space gave a sense of security that was outmatched by almost nothing. Any confrontation he didn’t want, he could instantly flee from. ‘Don’t let that make you cocky.’

The Illusion Barrier was a farmhouse somewhat off the road, meaning that they had to leave the bus inside its Mobile Barrier. Because John was a paranoid person, he had left Aclysia and Beatrice to guard it. The key was sitting safely in his inventory, but the Gamer didn’t want to take any chances. At least if something went south, the maids could immediately teleport over.

Around them, the barren winter field transformed into an ashy, hot hellscape. That was less to say that it looked threatening and more that their surroundings were dominated by infernal landmarks. The black dust that covered the scorched earth lay thick and fine enough to rise in a dry cloud whenever any of them took a step. Gnarly trees with long branches like skeletal hands reached up into the air with their smoothly scarred bark. The clean house was replaced with an obsidian tower whose sharply pointed roof resembled interlocking teeth.

In this dark and dreary landscape stood a party of three shining individuals. One wore a white robe with golden embroidery in the shape of a thorny thicket, their face obscured by a cloth that covered all but their blue eyes. One donned basic armour of polished steel, or a metal of same appearance, and had a handsome appearance, short brown hair and dark eyes harmonizing with the leather straps tying everything together.

The last, and clear leader, of the group wore full plate armour. It was of a marble white colour, not the silvery white of Mithril, decorated with a few elements of gold and silver. A sign on the shoulder pad had the clear shape of a rose, a thin ring surrounding it and likely informing of rank in some way. A red tabard covered the chest plate and groin piece. Everything else, even the head, was fully covered by the armour. The knight held a shield and sword, both of fine quality and both clearly used before. It was the shield that seemed more decorated, with another golden rose decorating the centre of its rectangular shape. Grime and ash stuck to these people, ruining their polished, clean look. It did not seem like they minded.

To the feet of this party, whose affiliation was beyond obvious, kneeled four people and a corpse. Three were demons of inhuman skin tones, wearing next to nothing, only decorated by their horns, tails or scales. Two of them were men, the other a hermaphrodite. The fourth person was a woman in a robe as black as tar. The corpse was a man whose head had been cut off, his robe decorated with red string and the same blood that dripped from the knight’s blade.

There was silence in the field as the kneeling Librarians looked at him with wide-eyed desperation and the standing Golden Rose party with calculating curiosity. “John Newman,” the knight spoke in a deep tone. “Leader of the Fusion Federation. The chances to run into you at this moment... the Lady blesses us in mysterious ways.”

“A minor chance indeed,” John agreed and made a quick number of calculations. If a Golden Rose strike force had already penetrated this far south, this likely meant the main resistance of New Libraria was already broken and troop concentration further north was no longer necessary. If they were going around cleaning up, stumbling over a party in the middle of their work wasn’t that unlikely from his perspective. “I must admit that I have no idea who I’m talking to, however.”

This was, for once, true. Not because John thought he couldn’t find out with Observe. It would have taken an absurdly powerful enchantment or anti-intelligence mage to block Reveal, but out of cautiousness. Him not getting information was highly unlikely. Them having an enchantment that would alarm them of that fact was, however, highly likely. Unless he got permission or the situation turned hostile, he would keep that tool to himself.

“I’m Sir Lloyd, a knight sworn to the service of Lord Brighton and the Order of the Golden Rose’s shield branch, which he leads.” The answer came promptly and in a long construction.

‘So, Moira really isn’t the highest authority at the moment,’ John thought. ‘Good to have that confirmed. Been a minute since Florida.’

“For a shield branch, ya looking pretty aggressive over there.” Rave gestured casually at the corpse.

Lloyd cast a smiting gaze down at the deviants to his feet so intense that John could see it despite the closed helmet. “I’ve been sent to scour out whatever demonic rats still corrupt this land with their foul presence.” Challengingly, his eyes wandered to meet John’s. “I act on the authority of my lord. I judge their cases, hear their sins, and I take the life that I deemed to have strayed from our Lady’s grace.”

‘That’s a nice way to say judge, jury and executioner,’ John thought. “What was his sin, then?”

“Overseer,” Lloyd said and looked to the robed man. What his purpose was remained somewhat unclear, but the title gave a rough idea.

Reciting from memory, the woman, judging by the voice more so than the appearance, listed, “Practicing and teaching of the dark arts, planting of Darkshed Trees, possession of grimoires, human sacrifices, and enslavement.”

“None of that is true!” the kneeling human cried out and was immediately met with another intimidating glare by the knight.

John sighed. Fundamentally, he wanted to be on the side of the underdog, but he was too smart to think that the person forced to kneel was always in the right. “If none of that is true, why are you living in a field with black, dead looking trees with three demons?” he asked. “I’m not someone who you can fool for your convenience, witch. I’ll judge this situation according to the truth.” Having said that, John returned his attention to Lloyd. “Mind if I pick your case apart for a little bit?”

Lloyd didn’t answer immediately. “Tell me first, President Newman, why are you here?”

“I’ve come to New Libraria to assess whether they are a risk to Fusion or not.”

“That they would be, were it not for my lord’s decision to neutralize them.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” the Gamer made clear. “In any case, I happened to stumble into this situation and, for the moment, I’m only observing. Certainly, you did nothing that you need to hide from me?”

“No, we did not,” Lloyd responded with the clarity of the righteous. “Squire, take my shield and hand me a cloth.”

“At once, Sir.” The squire quickly helped the knight unstrap the shield and then handed Lloyd a simple clean piece of cloth with which to clean his sword.

Whether they respected John’s authority or simply his power, it was evident that they were going to fulfil his requests. With his harem in tow, it was unquestionable that he could get what he wanted anyway. “Salamander, Undine, go check out the inside of the tower,” he instructed the two smartest elementals.

The two got moving, John waited for Lloyd to object, but all the knight did was finish cleaning his weapon. Once it was sheathed and his hands empty, he took off his helmet. There was a quiet sound, as if pressure was released. John was somewhat surprised to see a middle-aged man with the first signs of grey in his red-blonde beard. The voice of the golden-haired knight had sounded a lot younger.

“Ask your questions,” Lloyd invited him, tugging his helmet under his left arm. “I swear to the Lady that I will be truthful in all matters pertaining to my judgement.”

“Could you elaborate on each point of your judgement?” the Gamer wanted to know. It was less a question of proof, the proof was obvious, but why these things were supposedly bad. “Except for the human sacrifices and enslavement, I don’t require an explanation on those.”

“Practicing and teaching the dark arts,” Lloyd repeated the first point of the list of sins. “In this case demonology. Demons are beings of a malevolent nature. Select few may be redeemable, but as a collective they are a blight on the Lady’s greatest and central work. Bringing them to Earth is evil and spreading that knowledge is, therefore, equally repugnant.”

John was not wholly convinced that this was grounds for execution. Religious language aside, it was obvious that at least the present demons were sociopaths. Observe made that much clear and supported a general trend on the matter.

“Planting Darkshed Trees,” the knight continued with the second point. “The particular plant you see around you serves as a great source of sustenance for demons. They also taint leylines. Down the stream of our great Lady’s magical pathways, demons may enter from their unholy Kingdoms into the Natural Barriers. Rare as such an occasion might be, especially with this few trees, we cannot forgive the spreading of such malignant growths.”

This was both less and more valid in John’s estimation. Inviting demons wasn’t necessarily immoral, that depended on the individual coming over. Since he accepted the premise that demons were, by and large, dangerous, however, this was the leyline equivalent of dumping toxic waste in a river. Natural Barriers were hostile enough without a sapient predator running around in them, unable to return home.

“Possession of a grimoire,” the knight got to the last point John was curious about. “A list of instructions written on human skin on how to summon demons. Such a book must be burned wherever found.”

“That so?” John asked. “Are the instructions inherently corrupting?”

“They are temptation,” Lloyd firmly stated. Pressing his lips together, his eyes judgingly flew over the haremettes. “You would know quite a bit about this feeling, I reckon, President Newman.”

“I do and I know it’s quite dangerous. I also know that I’m above most temptations,” John raised his open palm. “I’ll be taking the grimoire off your hands.”

“That will add to your sins,” Lloyd warned, like a grandfather who knew better. “Aren’t pride and lust enough for you? The Lady has given you so much and here you are, squandering her gifts.”

“I don’t explain myself to you,” John stated in a warning tone. Arguing this case with a religious zealot wasn’t going to work. A religious zealot he largely agreed with, but a religious zealot nonetheless. “I’ll take the grimoire, report it to Moira or her father, add it to my sins, I don’t care. If I am to understand demons and whether or not there is a way to live with them, I need information.”

“Even if it’s drawn on the skin of our kin?”

“That’s absolutely disgusting, but it’s not like burning it will bring them back to life.”

‘Yo, I think I found it,’ Salamander informed him and sent him a mental image of a tome wrapped in wrinkly, stitched together leather, a black pentagram seared into the hide. ‘Screams demon book, at least. I also found this.’

More images entered his mind, of bones arranged into shapes, skulls with holes in them and rusty tools that fit those holes. Undine backed that up by showing three skeletons half-embedded into the wall at the ground floor. With the human sacrifices, and likely the slavery, confirmed, John no longer needed to wonder if the execution was justified.

‘Bring it here,’ John requested. “I guess you wanted to destroy it by collapsing the barrier on it?” he wondered, while Salamander came flying out of the building. His hands felt yucky the moment he touched the book.

John considered pressing the button on the confirm button just to trick the Golden Rose people that he had changed his mind. It would destroy the book immediately and without trace. However, John had no interest in investing into demonology. Not when he knew that the sexiest demons were incapable of doing more than wanting his cock. That was a flattering feeling, but nothing he would invest into a Class for. Generally, his combat potential was better raised in less infernal ways.

The book would serve better as research material for him and the task forces.

“We were going to burn the entire workshop down, with all of its artefacts, then collapse the barrier on top,” Lloyd’s strained voice continued reporting the truth. “We’re still going to do that, with or without that sacrilegious book.”

“You’re welcome to,” John told them and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I’m not going to meddle further than taking this grimoire, at least for now. If you so desire, I’ll accompany you to your leader and discuss that decision with him.”

“Lord Brighton is eager to meet you, I can assure you that much,” Lloyd pressed out. “May I continue with my judgements, President of Fusion?”

“Guilty,” John said and pointed at the witch, whose eyes almost popped out of her head. “She aided her master willingly in sacrifices. Guilty,” he pointed at the hermaphrodite, “of rape, albeit I do not know about anything else. Guilty and guilty,” the two male demons quivered in helpless fear, “in aiding the enslavement, helping in sacrifices and also of consuming human flesh. That is what the power your Lady gave me tells me. Verify and judge, their trial would be longer in my Federation, but the end result would be the same.” He pointed over his shoulder. “I’ve parked a bus in a barrier about 120 metres in that direction. I’ll wait for you there.”