A tattered blade slices through the freshly cooked meat from the horse they just slaughtered. 

One by one, the sergeant hands out the makeshift plates made from a thick leaf with the horse meat, still smoking, on top. With sullen faces, they consumed the meal without protest as the crackling fire kept the squadron warm from the embrace of the cold. 

However, one of them stops mid way through their bite, and perks up towards the distant forest. The soldier beside him notices and raises his eyebrow towards the new recruit. 

"Hey, I know the taste isn't so pretty... but if you wanna-"

"N-No it's not that... there's something in the woods..." he muttered as his widened eyes stared into the darkness.

The rest of his comrades instantly looked towards the direction he pointed to, grabbing onto their swords instinctively as they waited for this threat to come. However, half a minute passed by with nothing happening as everyone took a relieved but shaky sight as they sat back down, continuing their meal. 

"Being in the Ashtrail's messed with 'yer head, kid. Finish your meal. It was prob'ly a deer or something" the sergeant assured.

With a cold, misty breath, the young soldier nodded and took another bite from his spoon... proving to be his last as blood then splattered onto his plate and arms.

In an instant, the young man's head tumbled towards the ground followed by the thump of his body as a single cloaked figure stood in the darkness with a bloody silver blade drawn. 

"Ambush!" the sergeant yelled, his face covered in the blood of his soldier as he drew his own sword. 

The five remaining troops gathered around the lone figure who remained motionless. 

Suddenly, the intruder jumped towards the sergeant, their blades sparking from the clash as the former jumped into the sky before landing behind. 

They threw an onslaught of blows, and before the others could even react, their commanding officer was already butchered into a bloody mess in front of them. 

Two others followed, as they lunged forward, however instead of dodging, the steel plunged into their torso as blood spurted from the puncture wounds. Though as the soldiers backed off with a triumphant smile, their ease turned into fright as the blood flowing out of their target stopped midair like viscous slime. 

"Oh fuck.. e–everyone back off, he's an apostle––!" 

Suddenly, a streak of blood spilt onto the ground as a whirling blade of crimson sliced apart the two attackers. 

Three left.

"You... You monster!" one of them yelled out.

"Why are you doing this! You're picking a fight with Count Direwrought–"

"I know. That's the point." the cloaked figure said. 

He removed the hood, revealing a young man with shaggy wheat-colored hair and fierce red eyes. Extending from the edge of his mouth to the end of his jaw was a large burn scar, and his eyes reflected nothing but hatred and pain towards the soldier. 

"Who... are you...?"

"Asher Direwrought, bastard son of the man you worship as a god. And also..."

Asher, in the blink of an eye, appeared right in front of the man who fell onto his back with shock. 

"It'll be the last name you hear unless you tell me somethin' very important."

The other guards panicked, looking towards each other. They shed a cold sweat before tightening the grip of their swords. 

"For King Ashbor––!" 

As one of them leaped with their blade in hand, he fell to the ground headless as Asher flicked his wrist forward, sending a blade of his own blood towards him. 

"Aw... don't mention the bastard's name. It's a soft spot for me y'know?"

The other soldier didn't dare move... nor blink... nor breath. In his mind, he contemplated whether the innocent-looking boy in front of him could be so powerful. 

The one on the ground quivered and cried, begging Asher to spare his life. 

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

"P-Please, kid. I have a grandma back home... and s–she can't live on her own––"

"I don't give a damn about your grandma, dude. Now... tell me what you know about the Retainers."

From fright, the soldier turned to desperation as he whimpered and crawled back from the boy. 

Asher stood up, and cracked his knuckles as he put his finger over his chin.

"You're making this harder than it needs to be man..."

Suddenly, the cowering guard stopped in his tracks. He looked toward the blade next to him, and looked back at the looming Asher.

He grit his teeth, as he quickly reached for the sword and jumped to attack.

----------------------------------------

Crows pecked and dug into the dismembered corpse of the soldier, as the last remaining survivor stood over his comrade's dead corpse.

He stared into the fire next to him as his entire body felt cold despite the heat of the flame, and he turned towards Asher who was humming a countryside rhyme as he cleaned his blade. 

"Tough luck... your friends are hard shells to crack... I'd say I'm impressed if I wasn't pissed off right now"

Asher turned his head towards the lone soldier, whose knees trembled and arms shook in fear.

"Let's see if you're any tougher––"

"W–Wait, wait, wait!" he cried, stammering backwards with his arms in front of him.

"I'll tell you e–everything you wanna know, j–just please don't hurt me!" 

The young boy was surprised, raising his eyebrows, as the soldier begged and groveled in front of him. 

"Listen, all we know about the Retainers is that our boss works with one of them... t–the Black Bull! He and the commander hold a meeting at Searshoal every month on the full moon"

Despite the shaky and almost undecipherable words of the soldier, scared shitless, Asher smiled with dark delight. 

"Welp, that settles it" he announced, turning back as he walked away from the massacre. 

"A–Am I free to go?" the soldier fearfully asked.

"Run, get back-up, attack. Knock yourself out dude..."

The soldier took a breath of relief, as he got up from the blood-soaked ground and prepared to make a run for it.

"However, I can't have you seeing me again, can I?"

Suddenly, his vision turned black as a stinging pain panged throughout his face. Like bolts piercing through, crimson spikes tore through the back of his head and into the eyes, blinding him.

As the man fell to the ground and writhed in pain, Asher walked away as he slid his sword back into its scabbard, leaving his mess behind. 

*****

The loud crying voices of those he had killed the night before still ringing in his head. He grit his teeth, attempting to drown out those yells with his call for revenge but ultimately failed. 

He sat in a pool of blood, as he was slowly pulled down into the ocean of red by his victims. Asher cried out, as he struggled to resurface against the hundreds of hands dragging him by his back and arms. 

Upon looking down, he saw the deep abyss awaiting him... hell.

He closed his eyes, slowly accepting his fate as the boy stopped struggling. Asher took his final breath, however, a loud voice pulled him from this nightmare.

"Sylf, what did I tell you about going into my room uninvited... ouch! Is that a–"

Asher looked down and saw a small wooden miniature on his bed, whose small blade poked him in the back.

Next to his bed was a small girl, around seven or eight, playing with his pale yellow hair as she giggled at Asher's groggy state. 

"You looked so peaceful in your sleep, Ash! It was funny, heh" she smiled.

"Uh huh, and I'd like to get back to that now. Come on"

He picked her by the arm and carried her on his shoulder as Sylf protested, slamming her tiny arms and fists onto his back. 

The girl's silver hair flew around everywhere, messing up the intricate braids she once had and her fine cute outfit now wrinkled in her tantrum. 

Asher carried her down the halls of the manor, as he greeted the passing servants and maids who were attending to the various wares around. 

Finally, he reached this large dining hall, that also seemingly functioned as a greenery for this house's master. At the end of this long mahogany table was a refined couple, dressed in silk robes as they carved up the hot breakfast in front of them. 

"Ah, good morning Lord and Lady Ismarka" Asher happily greeted. 

The two looked up and greeted the young boy back as Sylf still whined and flailed about. 

"Goodness, Sylf. Did you disturb Asher yet again?" Lady Ismarka sighed, as she got up and took the young girl out of Ash's hands. 

"Would you like to join us for breakfast, young one?" 

"I'm sorry, Mister Ismarka, but I've got somewhere to be right now" Asher explained, putting on his black coat. 

"Really? The sun has barely risen yet, my boy"

"I'll be fine, sir. Thanks for the meal though, I'll be fine eating later"

Asher rushed out of the dining room as he waved Sylf and her parents goodbye––the young girl waving back enthusiastically––as he left the Ismarka Manor. 

----------------------------------------

As the night slowly swallowed the land of Epistaris yet again in its darkness, Asher put on his hood as he slowly approached a tall fortress that was isolated in the mountainside. He looked down towards the map he was given, and right there was a skull and bones written in blood.

Asher smirked, and knew what he was looking for was here.

Looking up, he saw the drunken guards, barely keeping an eye out as he approached the gates. 

He put his silver blade against his palm, slashing it open as blood gushed out. Suddenly, his blood started pooling around his blade as the watchmen finally noticed the young silhouette in the night. 

"Hey! Hey there! You're not allowed here, punk!" they yelled from atop.

However, their eyes widened as they saw the blood-covered blade, slowly but surely expanding as Asher stared them in the eye. 

Suddenly, the wall shook as they rang the bells, alerting the army inside. 

"Enemy attack––!"

Suddenly, a crescent slash of red tore through the stone and brick as the wall collapsed to the ground. As the dust settled, and the army confronted its invader, Asher stood alone atop the rubble of limbs and rock.

His dark red eyes shone against the moonlight, as he once again chants: 

"Guillotine."