In the end, Effie had to deal with the final group of thralls herself.
She met a very familiar person there, as well...
Her husband was the one commanding them.
He was putting up one hell of a fight, as well — enough to make a grown woman feel proud of her life choices.
‘Honey... I love you. I really do. But we are going to have a very, very long conversation about this when everything is over...'
“Subdue him!"
Her warriors finally overcame the defenders and managed to bring them down them — those of them who were still alive, at least. Her husband, too, was pushed to the ground and tied up.
He looked at her with a desperate expression:
“Effie... don't! Lord Asterion..."
She looked at him for a few moments, then turned away with a pained expression.
‘That damn Dreamspawn is going to answer for this...'
“Thane. How long can the rear guard hold out?"
Saint Thane hesitated for a bit, then shook his head.
“Not long."
Effie studied the gate.
The second group should have already passed through them from the other side. The fact that they had not appeared meant that there was something protecting Bastion apart from the thralls she and the prisoners had defeated.
‘A Saint? Or something worse?’
Effie took a deep breath.
In truth, she didn't feel too hot. In fact, she was barely standing — her condition had already been dreadful when she escaped from the dungeon, and immediately diving into a fierce battle did not make it any better.
Her soldiers were not the only ones who kept moving on nothing but sheer willpower.
Could she take out a Saint in this condition? The answer was obvious...
She would if she had to.
“Thane...”
Before Effie could finish the sentence, something rolled out slowly of the half-opened gate.
Her expression turned somber.
It was a head... a severed head of one of the prisoners who were supposed to take the throne room.
Effie sighed, then looked at her soldiers.
"Listen up, men! Split into two teams. One team will watch the prisoners, the other will join the rear guard and hold out for as long as they can. Meanwhile, I will pay a visit to the throne room and sort out whoever is waiting for us there. Understood? Go!"
She remained motionless for a few moments, then tightened her tourniquet and walked through the gate.
There...
An older gentleman in neat clothes was sitting on the steps of the throne, surrounded by a horrid mess of severed bodies and spilled blood.
Effie frowned.
“Huh? I know you."
The old man looked at her silently, making her frown deepen.
“Aren't you Sebastian, the old butler of the Valor family?"
The old man smiled.
"Indeed, that is what I am called."
Effie studied him carefully, using her intuition to figure out his Rank and Class. Most Awakened developed a gut feeling for these things over time — if they lived long enough — albeit it was not always precise.
"So what, have you been a hidden Saint all along? Goodness gracious. What a cliche."
The old butler chuckled.
"A Saint? No... not quite.”
Effie's expression turned somber. The man was claiming not to be a Saint, and by judging by his tone, he didn't mean that he was a mere Master. He couldn't be a Sovereign, though, which meant...
The old butler nodded.
“I'd have to be a human to be a Saint. But I am not... even though a few parts of me came from humans. Initially, I was a homunculus created by Lord Warden to protect his family — oh, but of course, Young Master Anvil modified me extensively later on."
Effie blinked a few times, then tilted her head a little.
"You're a... Supreme Demon, aren't you? Rather, you are a golem equal in strength to a Supreme Demon.”
The homunculus shrugged.
Effie remained silent for a bit, then gritted her teeth and spat:
“Are you kidding me?! Then what the hell were you doing when we were defending Bastion from Mordret?!"
He looked at her with a hint of reproach.
“Even if Lord Warden is gone, my task is to protect the Valor family, Lady Athena. Young Master Mordret is a part of the Valor family, as is Young Lady Morgan. I couldn't intrude on their spat, could I?"
Effie stared at the golem in disbelief, reminding herself that the thing in front of her was not technically alive... or even sentient, let alone sapient. It was merely a masterful imitation of a living being, only slightly different from the Echoes the Spellsmiths of Clan Valor used to create. In fact, even if it was more powerful, it was in many senses more primitive than those Echoes.
If there was a conflict between reality and the tenets imbued into its enchantments by Warden of Valor, it could not think of a way to resolve it. So it could do nothing while Mordret and Morgan were trying to kill each other.
Glancing at the gruesome carpet of severed bodies littering the floor, Effie inhaled deeply.
"Now... let's be reasonable, old man. Let's talk it out. You say that your task is to protect the Valor family, right? Then why are you are you helping Asterion destroy it?"
The old butler smiled.
“Lord Asterion only means well. Lord Asterion will save Valor... Young Master and Young Lady will be safe under the benevolent care of Lord Asterion. He is a benefactor of the Valor family."
Effie studied him for a few long moments, then let out a tired sigh.
“You know what? Fuck being reasonable. Being reasonable has never worked out well for me, anyway."
She rolled her shoulders and pointed to a golden weapon lying on the stone steps near the homunculus.
“That's my spear, bastard."
A wolfish grin twisted her bloodied lips.
“I suggest you hand it over yourself..."