"Wait..." Rades stammered, the manic fury completely draining from his face, replaced by utter, profound confusion. He lowered his grimoire slightly, the sickly purple glow of his necrotic mana fading. "You... you hate the nobles? You want to tear down the Capital?"
"That is the will of our Master, and the purpose of our purification," the leader confirmed coldly, the roaring column of ash slowly dying down to a localized, swirling vortex around his feet, though the tension remained incredibly high.
"Then..." Rades sputtered, gesturing wildly to the ruined, muddy village around them. He pointed toward the terrified peasants who were peeking out from behind overturned carts and broken doors. "Then why in the hell are you here?! Why did you attack me?! These people are nobodies! They're peasants! They have no money, no royal blood, and barely enough mana to light a campfire! If you hate the kingdom and the nobles, why are you defending this worthless dirt-patch?!"
It was a question born of pure, cynical logic. In Rades's mind, if you hated the establishment, you crushed everything beneath it. The weak existed to be used by the strong. If the Red Hoods were truly revolutionaries against the crown, they should have either ignored the slaughter or joined in to harvest resources for their own war.
The Red Hood leader did not answer immediately. He slowly lowered his arm, the swirling ash dissipating into the damp night air. He turned his head slightly beneath his deep hood, glancing back over his shoulder toward a small, partially collapsed barn near the edge of the square.
When he looked back at Rades, the fanaticism had cooled, replaced by a rigid, strangely honorable conviction.
"We are not here to protect the kingdom," the Red Hood leader stated, his voice returning to its measured, controlled cadence. "We only intervened because of the actions of the people in this specific village."
Rades scoffed incredulously. "Their actions? What actions? Tilling dirt?"
"Kindness," the leader replied flatly.
The word sounded entirely foreign coming from a man surrounded by the charred remains of a zombie army.
"We have been traveling near the border for the past three days, tracking the movements of a corrupt local baron," the Red Hood leader explained, his tone completely matter-of-fact. "Two nights ago, we were caught in a freezing, torrential downpour. We sought shelter in this village. We expected them to turn us away, or to call the local magistrate."
The leader gestured toward the terrified faces watching them from the shadows.
"They did not," he continued. "They saw twelve strangers, armed and cloaked, and they did not cower. An old woman invited us into her barn. A farmer brought us thick woolen blankets. The village baker brought us three loaves of fresh bread and a pot of warm vegetable stew. They asked for no coin. They asked for no favors. They simply provided us with food and a dry place to rest when we were cold and hungry."
Rades stared at the leader as if the man had suddenly sprouted a second head. "You're joking. You destroyed my entire vanguard... because someone gave you a bowl of soup?!"
"Our Master's doctrine is absolute," the Red Hood leader declared, his voice ringing with unshakeable conviction. "We strike the corrupt. We punish those who exploit. But we protect the soil. We protect the commoners who show kindness to those who walk in the dark. The people of Oakhaven sheltered us. They fed us. They are not the rot of this kingdom; they are the victims of it. And we do not allow rabid dogs to slaughter those who have shown us grace."
Rades threw his hands up in the air, his frustration boiling over into sheer, incredulous exasperation. He couldn't comprehend this twisted, hypocritical morality. They were murderers and arsonists, yet they were playing at being noble protectors over a few loaves of bread.
"You people are completely insane!" Rades yelled, taking a step forward. "You're a bunch of hypocrites! You talk about purification and fighting the kingdom, but you're wasting your strength protecting a bunch of useless sheep! I need these bodies!"
"You have no claim to these lives," the Red Hood leader warned, his hand moving back toward his grimoire.
"I have every claim!" Rades argued back loudly, his ego once again completely overriding his common sense. He was so frustrated by their logic that he entirely forgot the paramount importance of operational security. "You think I'm just wandering around killing peasants for fun?! This is a calculated tactical operation! My organization sent me here! We are preparing for a massive, coordinated assault that will wipe the Royal Capital off the map!"
From the roof of a nearby cottage, perfectly concealed within the shadows, a figure violently stiffened.
Valtos had been watching the exchange with mounting dread. When he had realized the Red Hoods were not Magic Knights, but rather an independent, radical faction, he had planned to simply open a portal and extract Rades. There was no need to engage a highly coordinated group of unknown variables when their primary objective lay elsewhere.
But as the words left Rades's mouth, Valtos felt a surge of cold, murderous fury.
"My organization sent me here! We are preparing for a massive, coordinated assault that will wipe the Royal Capital off the map!"
Rades was compromising everything. He was standing in front of a heavily armed, highly dangerous independent faction, and he was casually revealing the existence of their organization and teasing their ultimate objective simply because he was losing an argument.
Valtos could not remain hidden any longer.
With a sharp, precise wave of his hand, Valtos summoned his Spatial Magic. A dark purple portal ripped open in the mud directly behind Rades.
Valtos stepped out of the void, his dark cloak billowing around him, his face obscured by the heavy fabric mask. He didn't look at the Red Hoods. His intense, glaring eyes were fixed entirely on the back of Rades's head.
"Rades," Valtos said. His voice was quiet, but it was laced with a chilling, absolute authority that cut through the noise of the crackling fires.
Rades jumped, spinning around in the mud. When he saw Valtos standing there, radiating a cold, palpable anger, the necromancer instinctively took a step back. "Valtos! You're here! Good, help me kill these red-cloaked freaks! They destroyed Jimmy!"
Valtos ignored the plea. He stepped forward, grabbing Rades roughly by the collar of his shirt. He pulled the necromancer close, his dark eyes burning with suppressed rage.
"Why are you speaking, you fool?" Valtos hissed, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper that only Rades and the nearest Red Hoods could hear. "Why are you broadcasting our mission to an unknown, hostile faction? Have you completely lost your mind? Lord Licht gave you a specific task, not permission to announce our intentions to the world!"
Rades aggressively shoved Valtos's hand away, adjusting his collar, completely unrepentant. "Oh, calm down, Valtos! You heard them! You've been listening!"
Rades gestured broadly toward the twelve cloaked figures standing in the square.
"They aren't Magic Knights!" Rades justified loudly, a triumphant, almost childish smirk crossing his stitched face. "They hate the capital. They hate the nobles. They want to burn the establishment down just as much as we do. Since they aren't Magic Knights, and they aren't dogs of the King, then they are not the people I hate! They're not the enemy, Valtos! We're all fighting the same kingdom!"