Chapter Text
Sancho had been forced to deal with a situation most unusual.
In recent weeks, whenever La Manchaland manifested in the barren outskirts of P Corp, she would receive word of a growing encampment of heavily armed and armored soldiers outside. The reports, however, were lacking in information due to the lack of an actual confrontation between them and the Bloodfiends as of yet. Still, these ‘knights’ and their banners bearing a hammer and nail are stirring anxiety among the Kindred of the park.
Thus, as is her duty as Manager of La Manchaland, Sancho sought to confront them herself.
When the night comes, La Manchaland manifests and its gates open, and Sancho exits the park and begins approaching the encampment. To her surprise, however, it seems the strangers had thought similarly.
She spotted two figures, one male and one female, approaching La Manchaland from the direction of the encampment. Given they were coming to her, Sancho decided to stay put for now as it wouldn’t be like before they were face to face.
And indeed, it was hardly long at all as they now stood in talking distance from eachother. They were undoubtedly human, a distinction worth making since it was common among the denizens of La Manchaland to speculate that perhaps they were Bloodfiends.
The woman was tall. Her hair was a steel grey, turning into an almost unnatural yellow towards its ends, additionally part of it covered half of her face. She was clad in a regal-esque uniform, all but one of her appendages being additionally covered with armor plating. The yellowing on the actual fabric of her clothes is no doubt connected to the stench of death that radiates from her.
As for the boy, he wore a similar uniform to the woman next to him. However, unlike her his hair was entirely a natural blond. He also stood at a height that was only slightly taller than herself. His face was stoic, contrasting the woman’s self-satisfied smile. The yellowing of his uniform also seemed to be more recent. HIs greenish-yellow eyes seemed unfocused, as if his mind was completely disconnected from the situation. and…
…Why was she focusing so much on this boy?
She refocused her attention, she had more pressing matters than someone’s appearance. She asked a simple, concise demand.
“State your intentions. Now.”
The silver-haired woman laughed. “Oh come now, that’s no way to treat potential business partners now it?~”
Sancho’s face flickers with confusion before regaining her emotionless expression. “Business partners… who are you?”
The woman’s smile grew. “I am Kromer, The One Who Grips. You could call me the leader of Nagel Und Hamer, the Inquisition of N Corp.”
Ah, N Corp. No doubt that name has changed hands over the past 200 years, She didn’t remember them having an ‘Inquisition’ last she heard of them. This ‘Kromer’ also clarified the identity of them and the encampment as belonging to this ‘Nagel und Hammer’.
Still, their motives had to be uncovered.
“Now, again, state your intentions.”
“You Bloodfiends need blood, don’t you? We can offer some ‘heretics’ to your kind once per month, giving you the blood you so crave. In exchange… well let’s just say you help us out when the time is right~”
So that was their angle. They were correct, La Manchaland needed blood after being starved of it for 200 years, and the meager ‘visitors’ they were drawing in weren’t enough. Sancho would be remiss to entirely pass off on this opportunity, but she also knew that this ‘Nagel Und Hammer’ could not be entirely trusted as they certainly had their own motives…
Then, Sancho conceived an idea most ingenious.
“Your offer is most convincing, but I have one condition.”
Kromer’s self-satisfied smile beamed in a way quite sinister. “Oh? Do tell, then~”
“I think it best that I am allowed to hold something as a collateral, to ensure you stay true to your word.”
Kromer’s smirk faltered by a slight amount. “Oh… then what do you suggest?”
Sancho points to the boy next to Kromer.
“That boy, he is garbed in a similar uniform to you, is he not? That must mean he is quite important. He shall be my collateral.”
---
Upon an uncharacteristic noise from Kromer, Emil Sinclair snapped out of his ‘daze’.
This ‘daze’ has been happening ever since he became The One Who Shall Grip, leaving him totally unresponsive to anything but Kromer. After all, being almost entirely unaware of what was happening around him is better than...
Now with his mind refocused, he is able to actually process the sight of the Bloodfiend in front of him.
She wears a regal, almost military-esque uniform that embraces mostly darker and cold colors. This stands in stark contrast to her long and bright golden hair as well as her fiery red accessory that droops over her right shoulder - resembling the boas that some of the more affluent heretics he’s purged wore. Her expression is one that makes him almost feel inferior to her in every way, despite the fact she was clearly shorter than him. Then there were her eyes, bright red and…
Why was he looking at her so... observantly?
He looked to Kromer who, to his (unshown) surprise, looked shocked about something. That's when he noticed that the Bloodfiend was pointing straight at him. Then, before he could process the situation:
“That boy, he is garbed in a similar uniform to you, is he not? That must mean he is quite important. He shall be my collateral.”
Eh?
EH?
EHHH????
Did she actually just say that? Did she… Did she actually just… demand him as a hostage?
He could see The One Who Grips, for the first time, trembling. Not with fear, but with rage. Her right hand, which often rests on the hilt of her nail, shakes with fury wishing to be drawn against the creature in front of her.
“My… dear… Sinclair…” He could hear her barely audible mutters.
Kromer recomposed herself however, gritting her teeth and clenching her fist, before forcing a strained version of her smile. Sinclair has no doubts why. They were specifically ordered by her to ensure that an alliance was made with the Bloodfiends of La Manchaland no matter the cost. Returning without what was promised, in this case, would be unthinkable.
“Ffff-fine. I accept this condition… but as soon as you have no doubts of our intentions you are to return him, you understand?!” The One Who Grips could barely contain her rage.
The Bloodfiend, with the tables now turned, smirked. “Glad to see we could come to an agreement.”
She then pointed once again at Sinclair. “You, boy-
“His name is Sinclair!!”
The Bloodfiend, casted an unamused look towards Kromer for her interjection before turning back to Sinclair.
“Sinclair, You are to come with me.”
With little choice in the matter, as Kromer had already (and reluctantly) accepted, he nods. With that, the two began walking towards La Manchaland.
The entire time until they reached the gates was filled with silence, after all what else was there to say? Sinclair was effectively being made a hostage and thus wasn’t particularly interested in making pleasantries, and the Bloodfiend he was with didn’t seem like one to ever do such a thing. Walking through the front gate of the park, they were met by a large crowd of figures - most certainly more Bloodfiends - wearing a wide assortment of masks.
“O’ Lady Sancho, you have returned!”
“Who is it that has made camp outside of La Manchaland!?”
“And who is that boy!? Is he a sacrifice?!”
Sinclair gulped and tightened the grip on his halberd. For all of the massacres he’s committed, something about being stuck in an enclosed park filled with ravenous blood-drinking monsters still terrified him. More importantly, however, thanks to the cacophony of voices he was able to learn the name of the Bloodfiend he was with.
Sancho. Sancho. Sancho, Sancho, Sancho. San-cho. Something about that name just… it just rolls off the tongue in a way he doesn’t understand. As he thinks about this new info, Sancho herself responds to the crowd.
“Silence. The group outside of our walls calls itself ‘Nagel und Hammer’, and gave an offer to send us their enemies for us to feast upon. I, of course, would have been remiss to refuse such a deal - so I accepted on the condition they gave me something I could use to ensure their honesty. That is who this boy is…”
Her face grew deathly serious.
“...and if any of you dare to harm him, breaking our deal and committing a crime against all of La Manchaland, then I’ll have no choice but punish the criminal with punishment on par with filial impiety. Do you understand?”
While Sinclair didn’t exactly understand what ‘filial impiety’ meant, he could tell it was serious enough to silence the entire crowd and make them clear a path forward.
Their walk, which traveled almost all across La Manchaland with the odd exception of the ferris wheel in the middle, led them to what could only be described as a small manor - which was in decent condition unlike the ‘haunted’ mansion they saw earlier.
When they stepped inside, and went up the main foyer stairs where the hall that presumably has all the bedrooms horizontally intersected with a lone hall that leads to a room unknown to him. Sancho then pointed towards a door at the leftward end of the hall.
“That will be your room. You needn’t worry about intruders.”
Sinclair didn’t feel like disagreeing with her, so he just headed to the door. Before he entered, he looked to see Sancho heading to her room. To his surprise, she did not enter the room just right of the door at the end of the bedroom hall but rather the room just right of it…
Ok maybe it probably isn’t as odd as he thinks it is. He’s just tired.
He enters the bedroom, and shuts the door behind him. He then makes sure to lock it and then (just in case) he grabs a nearby chair and uses it to prop the door shut. He’s not taking any chances. He then places his halberd within arms reach of the bed, before laying down.
As Sinclair waits for sleep to overtake him, a realization hits. He feels… lighter than usual? He’s not exactly sure how he’s supposed to describe it, but he feels as if a weight, or some sort of pressure has been lifted off of him…
Maybe it’s because… she… isn’t….
Before he could finish his thoughts, his exhaustion got the better of him and he slipped into his rest.