Brand-Bound: Hallowed Be The Menu [Rivals-to-Lovers Slowburn Fantasy Romance]

A garment awaited on the cobblestones, outside a burnt-over hole blown into the back of the church. The title and other metadata flashed in Calaf's vision as he selected 'Examine'.

Calaf had not even a name to go by, only Charlotte's description of a fiendish assassin fleeing out the back of the cathedral. Surely, this assassin isn't fleeing the scene naked!

More bodies, some merely injured beyond the capacity for pursuit, others with a bevy of dazed and concussion status effects, lay strewn about behind the cathedral and at the entrance of a nearby alleyway.

The injured and unconscious guardsmen tapered off within the alley itself – good, as it meant the assassin's killing spree was at its end. Bad, as it meant there was less of a trail.

Calaf, at a mere level 7, possessed nowhere near the tracking abilities of your average scout. He was a guard – which was to say, defense-oriented. But he knew Riverglen, having lived here for all but six months of his life, during his holy pilgrimage.

Only the north gate out of Riverglen was built for heavy traffic. It was the gateway to the Grand Pilgrimage, shadowing the path of the Ancient Heroes of Yore. The road was the easiest way to reach another settlement, and the first gate put under lockdown if a wanted criminal was trying to escape town.

Other gates along the wall were small, often not wide enough to allow a horse-drawn cart to pass. Garrisons at these gates were lax, and the guards stationed there would have investigated an emergency at the cathedral.

Calaf took a shortcut to the closest gate. He hid at the mouth of an alleyway, masked by the long shadows of sunset.

"C'mon, 'Kidu," said a rasping voice from near the archway. "Stop playing with your food and get to rendezvous."

Could I be so lucky? Calaf realized he forgot to breathe, so consumed in his thoughts. He peered around a corner.

A woman wearing form-tight, functional garb slunk into the waiting portcullis. She had a dark complexion accentuated by a fine tan, more akin to the deserts of mid-level than boring old Riverglen. And she walked on her tiptoes, making nary a sound. Indeed, she checked for any remaining guards, of which there are none.

The sentry hazarded a peek at this foe, the murderer of his foster father:

Huh. Scrambled.

Those who had not taken the Brand simply did not have a holy Menu appear when queried. To have a Menu scrambled like this meant that his foe had once lived under the grace and protection of the Most Holy Menu but had knowingly forsaken its divine interface.

This woman—'Jelena,' whatever her surname was under the Interface—was a heretical fiend unworthy of mercy.

Jelena paused at the gate. She held something up to her mouth, then exhaled some smoke. Tobacco – such sinful activities were simply blocked by the Menu, the option to 'use' them for sinful activities greyed out. So, she truly was operating off-System.

As a mere level-7, Calaf was nowhere near the pinnacle of Menu-based power. Off-Menu, this heretical criminal was of unknown strength; could be equivalent to level-1, could be level-60. Still, he had to act. Stall until more guards arrived. Something!

"Stop right there!" Calaf emerged from the alley shadows.

"Oh?" Jelena eyed the newcomer, then took a large, final puff of her sin stick. "Was hoping the guards had all run off."

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"I'm not a gate guard. It's Calaf, Sewer Sentry."

The woman's lips pursed. "A sewer guard, eh? I'm movin' up in the world. Still, something about you seems vaguely familiar…"

Calaf brandished his spear. "Have at you! Taste low-level iron, criminal scum!"

The Sentry held his spear aloft. He put his weight into a full-force thrust, only to hit nothing but air! The Menu displayed an image, emanating from his arm-Brand.

"What do you mean 'miss'?! She's right there!" Calaf tried a second time, to no avail. His assailant danced about, performing this dishonorable dodging. She slunk away from each spear thrust.

Calaf cried out in frustration. "You fight without honor! You knave! Heretic! Murderer."

Again, the sentry swung, and again, Jelena artfully dodged.

"I'm fighting smart." The last thrust of the spear did force Jelena to drop her tobacco stick, at least.

"You killed the Prior. He was like a father to me, and for that I'll never stop pursuing you." Growling, Calaf readied his spear, putting everything into one extra-strong thrust.

Even if this dishonorable knave had forsaken the menu and engaged in this fiendish 'dodging,' it only took one direct hit. Living outside the Menu was living without the Menu's protection. Getting stabbed with a spear would hurt even if she'd been high level in a past life, and quite unlike the faithful, the unbranded wouldn't be able to heal. And the portcullis itself was quite narrow.

Only need one lucky hit.

Calaf lunged— missed. Lunged again— she dodged. He struck forth once more, stumbling into the gate's shadow.

"Murderer!" Calaf yelled again.

"Maybe, but I haven't killed anyone who didn't deserve it," Jelena said. "Would hate to start. Go back and guard your sewer, kid."

Jelena's outfit, while form-fitting, was covered in straps and pockets. No doubt to store fiendish instruments of murder and to pilfer stolen holy artifacts. Calaf watched the thief pulled a device from a strap beneath her shirt, clicked it thrice, and stuck it to the wall.

Nevertheless, Calaf continued his charge, spear up. Jelena danced, casually, down the tunnel, her back to Calaf. That globule on the wall made a clockwork ticking sound…

A cacophonous explosion sent the sewer sentry reeling backward. Dust and soot obscured his vision even as the collapsing wall revealed the last light of day. On instinct, he pulled up his Menu:

The flurry of negative status effects flooded his Interface. Calaf was lucky it hadn't been a critical hit. Anything worse would've left him bleeding out, maybe even so damaged under these tons of rubble that his corpse couldn't even be consecrated.

Jelena was out of sight. A now-collapsed pile of wall sat between Calaf and her. And with his limbs pinned—and everything else feeling as if he'd been picked up and thrown across town— there was no feasible way he'd catch up.

"Hey, it covers our escape, doesn't it?" came her voice.

Who is she speaking to? Calaf wondered.

"I'm just glad I managed to shake him before you started getting stabby."

Calaf hacked up a horrible cloud of dust. He managed to unpin himself in his writhing around.

"I'll…" he coughed again. "Never stop chasing you."

"Still alive?" Jelena asked from behind the wall of rubble. "Good to know. If that's what you wish, I won't stop you. But… you should head back to your post, sewer boy."

A new status effect appeared in Calaf's interface:

Concussion! The status effect timer ticked down, 0:09, 0:08...

"C'mon, 'Kidu, on to the next reliquary."

Before Calaf could puzzle out the identity of her accomplice, the timer zeroed out and he lapsed into unconsciousness.

Calaf awoke in a repurposed section of the cathedral cloister, apparently remade into a temporary medical ward. Above, the sun was hovering around four o'clock.

With a groan, Calaf instinctively checked his stats:

Mending. A mid-level spell, Mend gradually restored his health over time, useful for less drastic cases.

"Finally, you're awake," a soft, matronly voice hovered over him.

It was none other than Charlotte, his betrothed. The deaconess held his left hand daintily, caressing the Brand, a circular mark with multiple strikes running through it, ensuring it was not scarred or scoured.

"Ah, I presume you were unable to recover the Prior's relics, my dear?" Charlotte asked with a slight curve to her thin lips.

"No. And… the assassin got away," Calaf managed. He felt his health tick up to 16/18.

"And nearly collapsed the easternmost gate on top of you." Charlotte nodded. "You barely survived, my beloved."

"I…" Calaf's overactive mind got back to thinking about the martyred Prior Yordan's corpse. "I was outmatched. And that assassin, she fought without the Menu. Her stats were scrambled. She was once of the Menu but has forsaken it. Also, there was someone else…"

"Hmmm. Yes, this matches what others have testified to," Charlotte said. "Oh, that fiendish assassin. She forsakes the Interface! She engages in heresy against the Menu. I bet she even…" Charlotte let out a gasp. "… despises the concept of motherhood!"

Calaf nodded sagely. Yes, surely this vile, fiendish Jelena was an enemy to all decent and faithful people of the world.

Charlotte cleared her throat and refocused. "Ah, an itinerant cleric from the south arrived in town while you were here unconscious. There was no possible way we could've kept up with healing duties without his Interface. At the very least, you may be able to provide this cleric vital information about this relic thief, for when the manhunt commences."

From the south? Riverglen was the first station on the Grand Pilgrimage. The only place farther south was… the holy cave where the Menu's life-altering perfection had first blessed humanity. A truly sacred site for the church.

Calaf rose. He dared not embrace Charlotte, lest any action outside Interface-blessed wedlock risk sanction. Instead, they clasped their hands at their heart in the Church-approved, modest show of devotion to each other. Wasting no time, Calaf left the medical room to seek out this itinerant church brother.