「West Melas – After ceasefire negotiation」
From the West of Melas castle, in a part of the withered forest that didn’t either grow legs to walk on their own or burned down by dragon fire lied a hastily built tent. The entrance was covered by a piece of cloth to keep the conversation inside stays inside. There were no visible guards, but not far from there lied two units of troop from two different armies. One were the armored soldiers of the Alliance, but not from Origen’s own army; the other were the red cloak cadets of Sanguin Academy. As an unspoken rule, whenever there was a negotiation, only two negotiators from each side were allowed to conduct the discussion on their side’s behalf. One diplomat, and one bodyguard.
The troops from each side eagerly waited for the negotiation to end. Depended on the result, they might end up clashing swords in the middle of nowhere like this place, right this moment. But while the hatred from each side was mutual, too many things had happened enough to warrant the need for a break from all these bloodshed. That was the same wish shared by every single soldiers standing in this place, and they all hoped their chosen representatives held the same view.
“Damn cheeky bastard! Who does he think he is!?”
An angry woman in gray robe rushed out of the meeting tent, followed by a laughing middle-aged man wearing a red cloak.
“Ahahaha! He certainly pulled a fast one on you! Coming here sure worth the effort!”
“Shut up Aitor! I’m still pissed!”
Despite her protest, the Vice Principal of Sanguin Academy did not halt his laughter.
“Come on, Nilrem. You’re not acting like a proper Headmaster. You got what you want, the humans will retreat from Melas region by tomorrow. Sure, losing Origen’s shield is a blow to our diplomacy effort, but as I recall you were never fond of the Hundred Regalias to begin with.”
The woman temporary halted her track as Aitor finished his words.
“I was careless. I never thought they would actually had the gall to burn away the supplies storage and used it as a leverage against us on the negotiation table. I don’t mind losing the shield…but I hate the way that brat talked as if he owned the damn place! It makes my blood boil just from remember what happened inside that tent!”
In a fit of anger, Nilrem threw her tantrum by kicking away some snow from the ground. It was hard to see this woman as a Headmaster of a prestigious academy when she was acting up like an immature brat. Aitor seemed to agree and proceeded to touch the woman’s left shoulder to console her from her sulking.
“Now now, stop being a sore loser. You need to keep your reputation as Melas’s Headmaster. A brief moment is fine, but you still have a role to play, Nilrem. Don’t let my boys see you like this, it will only hurt your image.”
“Can’t believe I’m getting a pep talk from you of all people, Aitor. But well, I already know you are a capable man, if only the same could apply to your nephew.”
Aitor laughed as Nilrem resumed her walk toward the army waiting for them.
“Well, Caelan is indeed a troubled child in the Eberstark noble family. He was the only one among the young Eberstarks who failed to join Sanguin Academy. Maybe bearing that name proves too much for him to handle…It’s not right for me as an educator to say this, but please give my nephew some slack.”
The woman stayed silent before she found the right words to reply the Eberstark man.
“Don’t worry, the circumstance of your nephew is the least of my concern. I have more severe problems to deal with. Two of them, in fact…”
Nilrem put on an ironic smile as she recalled about how things happened before both side proposed for a truce.
“We need to hurry, there’re still a lot of things to do before the humans retreat”
Aitor simply nodded as he quietly followed Nilrem back to their escorts.
As the representatives of the demons finally left the site, the human’s own diplomats decided to show themselves away from the tent. Leading on the front was an aged man in his sixties, with graying hair and a long white beard, but despite the wrinkles on his face, his brown eyes were still shining with the strength of youth, it also showed in his tall and imposing figure underneath a full set of silver-color armor and a sheathed sword by the waist. He was also wearing a fur cape by his shoulder to shield him from the cold of winter. While most of his soldiers were long accustomed to the harsh weather in the lands of Demons, someone his age wouldn’t be able to make it through willpower alone.
The same however couldn’t be said about the youth following behind the old man’s back. Despite being in his twenties, the young man with blond short hair and emerald eyes behind a pair of glasses had a thick cloak made of fur covering the noble-like clothing underneath, yet even so, the way he grabbed his fur cloak maade it look like he could make use of another thick cloak. He looked neither soldier nor mage, which prompted the question why a non-combatant like him was here to begin with.
-I don’t understand a thing about what she said…but she sure sounded mad.
The old man in the suit of armor suddenly laughed out loud.
-Ahahaha! I guess the Archsage herself never expected to be beaten by a mere merchant.
-It’s nothing special, General Raganhar. I just simply stated the truth. Both sides were exhausted, continue to fight in this state wouldl only bring more unnecessary casualties. The most logical thing to do is for both sides to pull back and stock up supplies before we resume killing each other.
-But it’s not like we expected the demons to simply obey to our term, weren’t we? If their supply storage didn’t magically catch fire and got burned down to ashes, our talk today wouldn’t go so smoothly. That’s one thing, but I’m more surprised you knew about that information, something that even I haven’t caught wind of until you blabbered it out of nowhere during the talk. Do you care to elaborate to this old man on that matter? Theodoric, leader of the Empyrean Mercenaries?
Despite the seriousness of the situation, the young man known as Theodoric simply smiled.
-Come on, General. Do you really expect me to explain everything in the middle of nowhere? If I have to do it, I would prefer to sit by a bonfire with a hot cup of coffee in hand, preferably with a blanket as well.
-There you go again, always talking about that muddy drink you sell to feed your sellswords.
The old man with mighty long bear seemed annoyed, he started walking away from the tent while the young merchant followed behind.
-Still, after all things considered, what should we tell the high command? Is this a victory, or a defeat?
Asked Raganhar.
-It’s hard to tell who won and who lost, in my opinion. Other generals will probably think this is a victory, no matter the cost we paid for it. But in the end, I feel like we lost this battle, all I could do was just mitigate the losses from growing too large. It was a surprise we managed to win over the demons on the negotiation table, I actually anticipated the demons would bring out their hidden dragon as deterrent when the issue of the supply storage came up.
The old general sighed.
-Whatever gamble you played at, Theodoric, you were lucky it paid off. It’s a godsend the little Hero in your merry band managed to survive an encounter with a dragon in one piece.
-Now now, how could I expect the demons to actually have a dragon in their disposal? If I knew about her existence, I might be able to come up with a countermeasure before Origen’s invasion started.
Suddenly, as the young and the old continued their conversation, a knife flew toward the armor-clad general. Unlike what his age implied, Raganhar swiftly drew his sheathed sword to deflect the projectile. The thought of an assassination crossed his mind, after all, was there a more perfect situation when he and the young merchant were in the open far away from their army? But that still left him with a question: who was their target? If it was Theodoric, then the knife earlier wouldn’t be aiming for him…unless it was meant to be a mere distraction.
Which was proven true when two cloaked men rushed out from the nearby wood. In a flash, they threw a barrage of knives hidden inside their tattered cloak toward Raganhar. The man couldn’t deflect all of them, which left him with the decision to push Theodoric away from him as he dodged the oncoming knives. Right at that moment, the two assassins approached Raganhar and attacked him simultaneously with kicks and punches. Despite them not using weapons and him wearing armor, their blunt attacks still made him feel like being hit by a war club. His sword blocked a few, his armor blocked the others, but despite the protection, Raganhar couldn’t find any opening to counterattack, his opponents were too nimble while his own speed was too slow to catch up with them. It was a stalemate that ended in the assailants’ favor.
-Don’t piss me off!
Raganhar yelled. He focused his soul energy onto his sword and slammed it downward to the ground, which made it explode into bits from the weight of his strength. His effort earned him some advantage over the two assassins as they were now keeping a distance away from him.
But it was all for naught, as the one he should be protecting, Theodoric, was now being held with a knife near his throat by the third assassin, who exploited the chaos to approach the defenseless merchant. Unlike the two other assassins, this one was clearly a woman, who didn’t even bother to conceal her identity with a hooded cloak like her comrades aside from a skin tight black face mask that ended just above her nose, leaving bare her white as moonlight skin, her sharp onyx eyes and black as coal long hair tied by a ribbon to form a side ponytail. Beneath her black cloak was a skin tight bodysuit covered by a violet cotton clothing. The most noteworthy detail of her appearance was the tattoo on her bare left arm, which consistd of strange and exotic runes and unknown characters, the same tattoo was shared by the two other assassins accompanied her.
-Don’t move, General Herman Raganhar.
However, no matter what she looked like, it didn’t change the fact that this woman was holding Theodoric at knifepoint. Yet despite being threatened with his life, the young man’s expression seemed to be more…annoyed, with frowned eyes and biting lips. That didn’t leave unnoticed by Raganhar however.
-Your acquaintances, Theodoric?
Asked the old general.
-I really want to deny that…but yes, they are…
The blonde young man sigheds as he tried to push away the knife near his throat with the tip of his finger, only for the woman assassin to put it back closer to his throat.
-If you say so.
Said Raganhar as he nonchalantly sheathed his sword, which also made the two other assassins cancel their fighting stance and dispeled the hostility they brought up from the start.
-Seems like I’m probably going to be busy for a while…I’ll catch up to you later to deal with the mess after the truce.
-Well, I’ll see you afterward then. Try not to get yourself killed.
The old general turned his back and walked away, while the young merchant stayed behind to deal with his own mess. The way they talked made it look like one of them wasn’t having their life threatened by dangerous assassins when their conversation happened. But now, with the general’s gone, Theodoric was left alone to deal with the three assassins under his employment.
-According to what I remember, the last job I gave you doesn’t involve putting a knife by my neck. What’s your explanation for this, Lusine Isra of Lunae?
The woman assassin stayed silent before pushing the knife closer to her client’s throat.
-You asked us to dispose of Melas castle’s supply storage. We accepted the mission, we headed out and sneaked inside the castle, readied to fulfill what was asked of us. And what do you think we found there?
Lusine gave a pause in her voice, as if wanting to see a reaction from the client who gave her the job, but he showed her nothing, not even a breaking sweat.
-Non-combatants! Doctors, nurses and the wounded! I don’t care about the demons, but you know how I operate! I don’t involve others aside from my target! I have enough of soiling my hands doing dirty works for stuck up nobles, that’s why I went rouge from the first place. But you…
The woman assassin pushed the knife further to Theodoric’s throat, enough to make a slight wound and bled him out. Even so, the merchant did not bat an eyebrow, and his ears were still focusing on the words of his assailant.
-You already knew how I do things, but you dared to give me this mission in spite of that! What’s your explanation, Theodoric!? Depends on your answer I may end up slitting your throat without needing a price!
Theodoric sighed in the face of the assassin’s death threat.
-I didn’t know about it, really. I expected the demons to hold up their wounded at some place like the infirmary or a hospital. For them to pick the storage to tend the wounded was really unexpected.
-Liar! Someone like you could absolutely predict something like that! Do you take us for fools!?
Lusine’s followers yelled out loud, while their master still patiently waited for a proper answer from her employer, with her knife still sit by his throat.
-Come on. I am no God. I’m just a normal human being who is too weak to fight. And you know, humans make mistakes. Also, I can say the same about you, Lusine.
Suddenly, Theodoric grabbed his employee’s knife with his bare left hand and pushed it out of the way without letting it go, despite the red blood flowing out of his hand from grabbing on the knife’s edge. Theodoric intensively stared at Lusine in the eyes, reversing the role of the threat maker and the threatened.
-The mission I gave you was to destroy Melas’s supply storage, it didn’t involve killing the noncombatants inhabiting the place. But you fell them all, despite your claim of only killing your target.
-It was necessary to complete the mission.
Lusine replied with her eyes fixed upon the man in front of her.
-Exactly! Thanks to what you did, the Alliance gained an edge over the demons on today’s negotiation. History only remembered the heroic tales of chosen heroes, it didn’t tell how some of them could only be achieved by underhanded methods from people like us.
Theodoric got himself closer to the female assassin. The difference of their height wasn’t very apparent, as Theodoric has the average height of a human male in this world, while Lusine was a bit taller than the average height of a human female. They stood shoulder to shoulder, but Theodoric approached her in a way that made it look like he was resting his head on her shoulder. Lusine didn’t react, as she was the one with the knife. Finally, Theodoric opened his mouth, speaking like a whisper to her ears.
-You and I have different goals, and to complete those goals, we have missions to fulfill. However, we are but feeble humans in a world that is cruel to the weak and powerless. It’s impossible for people like us to achieve things with a clean hand and a clear conscience. You did what you had to in order to fulfill your task, and I did the same by backstabbing Origen’s original plan with this mission I gave you. You of all people should understand why there are things that can only be accomplished by dirtying your hand and breaking your oath.
Suddenly, Lusine pulled back her knife, and slammed her fist right down Theodoric’s stomach. The punch wasn’t strong, but it did knock him away from the woman assassin. The merchant groaned from the pain in his stomach as he found himself covered in dirt and snow.
-The hands that were dirtied doing your mission are ours, not yours. The next time you pull something like this again, consider my debt to your Master done, and try doing your damn dirty job yourself.
Said Lusine, which was quickly followed by her fellow comrades.
-We are not your tools, merchant. Push us too far, and we may find ourselves taking the cheapest contract for your head.
The two hooded men looked at the young woman for guidance.
-Leave him be, we’ll come to collect our reward later.
-Affirmative.
Lusine quickly dashed into the withered forest nearby, followed by her two underlings, leaving Theodoric to continue lying on the cold and snowy ground. It only until two minutes later did the young merchant decided to drag himself off the ground, all while caressing his stomach.
-Damn, it hurts…but I guess I kinda deserved that…
The young merchant simply smiled as he stood up and continued his mission.
---------------------
「West Melas – The next night」
One might say night time was the same for everywhere in the world, but for the humans partaking in the war on the demons soil, the night was something dreadful, a thing to be feared, as it should be, since from the dawn of time, the world was engulfed in the eternal darkness of the night, where ancient demons lied waiting for preys to devour. It was common knowledge that demons became stronger during nightfall, as the soul energy from the land got amplified during the night. Whenever the demon army conducted a raid, it always happened at night.
Even so, the human army still decided to take a risk and prepared a funeral rite in the dark of the night not too far from Melas castle. They only did this because the humans believed the demons would hold their end of the truce, and only continued to do so thanks to the demons’ cooperation in letting them retrieve their fallen comrades in peace. But in the event where the demons decided to break the truce and conducted a raid on this site, the casualties would be numerous. Which, ironically, was another reason why the funeral rite needed to be finish as quick as possible, right in the middle of the enemy territory, because the humans’ high command wanted to get the ceremony over with in order to resume building the defense at the lands they captured during their charge through the Dark Line.
Illuminating the darkness of the night were the makeshift standing torches to make it easier for the human soldiers to do their job. Despite being called an army, their total number were about two thousand at most, since this particular detachment was sent to venture deep inside the Dark Line in order to support Origen’s own force. But by the time they arrived and rendezvoused with Origen’s men, the battle was practically over, and Origen’s own surviving men could be counted with two hands. By the time near the truce, there were still a good hundred men left alive, but unlucky for them, they gave up fighting in the presence of the demons, who promptly dispatched the despaired men because they were not in a condition to take prisoners. Which left only a few who didn’t either die during the fighting, or burnt to ashes by dragon fire.
It was hard to decide whether this was a victory or a loss, and that was one reason why a certain young merchant got sent away from the frontline only to quickly return to this site on the back of a dark horse by nightfall, accompanied by a few of his mercenaries.
-I hope we are not too late.
Said Theodoric as he commanded his horse to slow down and entered the funeral site after passing through the guards. Together with his horsemen, the merchant entered the funeral ground next by the withered forest. Snow had already stopped falling, making it easier for the men to conduct something like this in the middle of Winter night. Even so, Theodoric still found himself wrapping his arms inside his fur coat to shield his body from the cold. All he wanted was to find the nearest bonfire and sit there until dawn, but the young merchant still had a job to do.
-All of you, find our comrades and get some rest. I’ll catch up to you later.
-Understood, boss. See you later.
Said the sellswords under the employment of Theodoric. After they splitted out, Theodoric continued riding alone and passed through the pyres packed with bodies of the men died in battle. A funeral rite according to human custom was very simple: Make a pyre, clean the body, dress them with their most precious clothing, and when all is done, set the pyre on fire. But from a quick look around, Theodoric realized none of the corpses were washed clean before being put on the pyres. They still wore the same blood-soaked armor, either from their own or from their enemy. None of them got the respect they deserved, and Theodoric understood why. For one, the people here were pressed for time, and another, it was simply because they were not soldiers from Origen’s army, and thus, most of them probably didn’t have the respect for the men who dragged them into another bloody war, from their point of view.
The only exception was the biggest pyre in the center of the site, the place where Origen’s body lied resting after being washed clean. He was wearing his old armor, not the one he had as a Paladin. He was also being covered by a white sheet on top to hide the damage caused by the one who defeated him. On the feet of his pyre were several smaller ones, which hosted the bodies of other common soldiers, probably Origen’s closest men according to Theodoric’s guess. Not many were tending the pyre of the fallen general, aside from four soldiers in armor, and an old general with a long white beard and a flask on his hand.
-I have returned, General Raganhar.
-Took you long enough.
As the young merchant dismounted himself, the old general took another shot from the metal flask in his hand. When Theodoric stood near Raganhar, he realized the old general’s face was redder than normal, thanks to whatever he stored in his metal flask.
-So, how was it? Not every day a common mercenary leader got summoned by the High Command for a scolding.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
-They simply asked me why I helped Origen in rebelling against the Alliance army, I asked them why helping to break the demons’ defensive formation they couldn’t accomplish for ten years straight was considered “rebellious”. They fell silent afterward.
The old general burst out a laugh.
-Ahahaha! Surely they put on a better fight than that!
-Of course, they still accused me of disobeying orders and threatened to disband our group. I showed them the rules of contracting mercenary bands, which included information about how the contractor are responsible for the actions the employed mercenary band take, and only the Mercenary Guild has the right to disband a company. From an objective point of view, my Empyrean Mercenary did nothing wrong. We helped Origen make a breakthrough, and gave the Alliance an advantage over the demons. The only thing we did wrong was disobeying orders, but that was because we were following the orders of our contractor, Origen, and thus, it was him who has to face that charge, not us. If they are still hell-bent on trying to disband us on their own accord, they will face the wrath of the Mercenary Guild, and that won’t be good thing, considering the upcoming war we brought upon them.
-I get it I get it! You accounted for everything! Now stop talking, you’re making my head hurts!
The young merchant silently laughed.
-Haha, sorry.
Theodoric fell silent for a while until he found the next perfect moment to resume their chatter.
-In the end, all the high command wanted was to find someone to blame for that day. They cared not for the victory, they cared not for the men who died achieving it, all they wanted was to uphold the status quo from ten years ago. In the end, people like them will put Origen’s sacrifice to the shadow of history, and it makes me question whether putting his own life on the line is worth it.
-We both know Origen didn’t do it for those old farts, but for the good of mankind as a whole. You should know Origen well enough to realize that. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t put your own company at risk to help that mad man fulfill his suicidal ambition.
Theodoric stared at the the unsung martyr’s corpse, one who died by an unknown attacker, one who would be remembered as a treacherous rebel, one whose sacrifice wouldn’t be remembered, all for something like “mankind”.
-Mankind, heh?
The young merchant mumbled.
-Mankind’s finest died together with Origen. Now, we are left with drunk cowards…and sober cowards! Hic!
Herman Raganhar took another sip at his flask. The smell of wine started to dominate the air around him.
-You want some?
The old general pointed his flask of wine toward the young merchant, which he promptly refused.
-I’m sorry. It might be strange to say this, but I don’t drink wine.
-Nonsense! What kind of man doesn’t drink wine!?
-The sober kind.
The two men, both old and young, suddenly burst out a laugh. Their chatter attracted the attention of the few soldiers tending around the pyre, but considering one of them was a general, they dared not to disrupt the charade.
-Well, maybe one day you’ll understand the joy of getting drunk.
Raganhar took another sip from the flask.
-That being said, I didn’t know you are a fan of wine, General Raganhar.
-I was always a drunk when off duty. I still have an image of a general to maintain, but when I have some free time, the first thing I always did is to get the nearest wine and drink it. And time to time, I asked Origen to join in for a few cups.
The old general gave his flask a longing look as he continued.
-He used to love this stuff, Metallum-brewed wine, made from the finest grapes grown by our hard working farmers. Paladins aren’t allowed to get drunk, he said, that’s why we only drank in secret. Come to think of it, I guess that was when I found out he had some rebellious tendency in him. Heh, so much for being a proper Paladin.
Slowly, Raganhar approached Origen’s pyre and put his flask of wine onto the black man’s body. A parting gift from a friend to a friend.
-May there be fine wine awaiting you in the afterworld of Ardahat, old friend.
The old man stayed silent to offer a tribute of good will toward the fallen paladin’s coprse. Theodoric did the same, thinking it was not courteous to open his mouth in such a sacred moment. Only until after several minutes later did their conversation resume with Raganhar’s turn to talk.
-Alright, enough sentimentality.
Raganhar turned away from the pyre, and suddenly, he approached Theodoric and grabbed the merchant by the collar.
-About time you spill out what you and Origen planned to cause this whole mess. And don’t you dare making excuses! I want answers now!
The sudden yelling attracted the attention of the few soldiers standing around, but just like before, since it was a handiwork of a general, the rank-and-file grunts dared not to interfere. But it didn’t seem like there was a need for interference to begin with, as Theodoric calmly laid down Raganhar’s grip away from his collar, accompanied by a brief answer.
-Alright.
The young man walked away from the general, simply because he was searching for a place to warm his hands, and found such a place in a nearby standing torch. As he rubbed his hands to feel the heat near the fire, Theodoric started telling Raganhar his story, or rather, his and Origen’s story.
-It began two months ago. Back then, my mercenary band had accustomed ourselves to the life of fighting in demon soil. As you know, mercenary bands take jobs from generals like you, but they are not strictly bound by military rules, making them unofficial combatants, allowing the generals to abuse them as expendable meat shields. That is to be expected, I guess. Back to the point, my band usually accept jobs from you and Origen, because you guys seem to be the only ones who know what you’re doing in this mess of a war. I think Origen thought the same, maybe he thought we were qualified enough to help him in whatever he was plotting, or simply because we were the ones mad enough to went through with it. And he was right, we were that mad and crazy to follow him to his doom.
A faint smile appeared on Theodoric’s lips, hidden away by him turning his back to Raganhar.
-Anyway, about two months ago, I received a message from Origen, about him seeking my help. I had my doubt at first, but eventually I decided to trust him, and went to meet him in his tent. When I arrived, he showered me with a bunch of letters containing information about the opposite demon army. Locations of their camps behind the Dark line, their routes for transferring supplies and manpower, hidden camps, secret routes, some even included detailed information on the size of their regiments, their equipment and operating procedure in various situations. They were things scouts and spies would die for in order to acquire, and he casually shoved it to a mere mercenary company leader like me.
-That’s absurd…how could Origen acquire those information without anyone knowing?
Raganhar looked stunned from the sudden revelation, all while Theodoric calmly continued to explain.
-He didn’t. Those information came to him on their own, according to the man’s words. From time to time, Origen found mysterious envelopes appeared in his tent, with them containing information about the demon army. Origen tried to investigate this matter, but it yielded him no result. He didn’t want to believe the men under him did this, as it implied they have ties with the demons to uncover such things, but Origen wasn’t paranoid enough to pursue that lead. He decided to focus on the most urgent matter: the most recent envelope sent to him, and also the reason why he asked for my help.
-What was it about?
Theodoric put out a sigh.
-Information about the demons building a supply chain leading from Melas to the Dark Line...in preparation for a counter offensive against us.
-That is…absurd!
-Yeah, that was my thought back then, but Origen seemed to genuine believe it was true, and so, he asked me for my advice on that subject. His first proposal was to reveal this information to the high command, but I shot it down. I told him I didn’t believe the high command would take this information seriously. At best, they would dismiss it as a joke, at worst, they would question Origen about the source of the information, which wouldn’t end well for him. But there weren’t many choices for him to do despite knowing of an inevitable attack from the demons. So, I helped him, I told him I would send my men to confirm the truth, with a fee, of course.
Raganhar tried his best to forget the last words said by the merchant in front of him.
-So, how did it go?
-…It was the truth. Using the information on the secret routes leading through the Dark Line, a few of my men managed to discover the demon army constructing supply depots in secret for their future offensive. Despite the success of the mission, it wasn’t a pleasant news to hear as it confirmed a direct future threat from the demons. I and Origen were at a loss, unable to decide what to do…until a month later, when another envelope arrived. This time, it came with a map, the map of Melas castle, and information about the existence of the barrier that defended the castle against powerful summoned creatures. This was the turning point for Origen, and the very moment he decided to plan an attack on Melas castle, hoping to break the stalemate in this war before the demons’ ambition bore fruit. I tried to stop him, but in the end, I found myself being convinced by him to partake in this madness.
-If I remember it right, by that time everyone were busy preparing for the upcoming joint cooperation, including me…
Theodoric suddenly smiled from hearing Raganhar’s reply.
-For once, that useless charade managed to be of use to us. It attracted all the attention away from Origen, giving him some freedom to prepare his plan. The two of us devised an invasion plan at first, it all went smoothly in theory, until a specific problem came up: the location of Melas’s barrier core. At that point, we received another envelope. Rather than information, this letter was more of an invitation, it told us the info on Melas’s barrier core lied in a classroom in the Magic Art Department. I was skeptical about this whole penpal thing, but I failed to stop Origen from going through with it, though I doubt at that point there were anyone that could stop him. I guess in Origen’s viewpoint, where those info came from didn’t matter, what mattered was how to put it to good use. And so, we prepared our plan. Origen was in charge of recruiting men to our cause, while I tasked myself with scouting ahead and handling other details. Origen managed to rack up five thousand men, more than half of it came from his own army. His charisma was something out of this world, but to me, five thousand men weren’t enough for something like this, we needed more if we wanted a better chance of success. This mission was suicidal in nature, five thousand were the most Origen could recruit. He could ask for help from other mercenary bands, but while he was a man full of honor, Origen wasn’t a man full of money. He had already emptied his pocket employing us, and for a suicide mission like this, your common mercenaries wouldl demand more than the price I offered Origen for our help. And thus, with just us, we went on to perform Origen’s “treason” against mankind.
Theodoric adjusted his plain glasses and turned back to face Raganhar after feeling enough warmth from the standing torch.
-The rest was what you already know so far…wait…are you crying…?
The merchant had already asked himself what would the general’s reaction be when he told him about Origen’s sacrifice, but Theodoric never expected Ragahan to actually cry out loud. Theodoric guess being drunk was part of that reason for the tears flowing out of his eyes, but crying like that didn’t make him look weak, not even a bit.
-Damn it, Origen! Why didn’t you ask me for help!? Am I not your friend!? I would gladly give you a hand if you said the word! Yet, you went on and killed yourself, and for what!?
The man covered his eyes, trying to stop his tears from flowing out, but considerably failed thanks to the iron gauntlets he’s wearing.
-It’s just my own opinion, but I think…Origen didn’t ask for your help precisely because you are his friend, General Raganhar. It’s not like this war will magically end after Origen’s victory and death. If anything, it’s only the start, and mankind needs someone Origen can rely on before he went off on this suicide mission. You are here to take on Origen’s torch, to fight for mankind on his behalf. If you are his friend, then you will understand.
Raganhar didn’t reply, he was still busy crying his heart out. Theodoric didn’t believe crying is a sign of weakness, rather, it’s a sign to show how strong one are, to cry when needed, and to be brave when courage is demanded from them. Raganhar has both, that was why he’s a general, and why he was a friend of the Black Paladin.
A soldier from the few survivors of Origen’s army approached the crying Raganhar. Unlike other soldiers, the only metallic armor he has were his common iron helmet and a pair of worn-down gauntlets. He also has a brown scarf by his neck as a neckwarmer. Aside from those features, he looked just like your common everyday soldier among the Alliance’s army. He has a burning torch on his hand, and when he got near Raganhar, the helmeted soldier handed it over to the old man with mighty beard.
Raganhar didn’t say anything, and neither did the young soldier. The old general took the torch off the young soldier and slowly walked toward the stacked pyre, where Origen and his men’s corpse awaited. Without further waiting, the old man threw the torch to the pyre and set it on fire. Soon, fire spread across the woods and quickly covered the dead in its embrace.
-Farewell.
Said Theodoric as he returned to his horse nearby and slowly rode out of the site. Origen’s departure should be tended by his friend and men fighting for his cause, not by a greedy mercenary leader like him.
As he rode along the way, funeral pyres from everywhere in the site had been rapidly lit on fire. Seemed like the funeral rite had finally started, and he was late for his own men’s rite.
-Hope I’m not too late!
He commanded his black horse to ride faster and desperately searched for his men in the night. Luckily, he quickly found their location as their pyres were the only ones that hadn’t been lit yet.
-Sorry guys, I’m late! Business took longer than expected! But I’m finally here, Fino, Elisha, Anna, Egil.
Letting the mercenaries under his employ handle the horse, Theodoric dismounted and greeted the close confidants who were rushing to greet him back. The first to approach him was the young Hero with brown hair and blue eyes called Fino, followed by a cat girl with short black hair and a white nun’s garb.
-I thought you couldn’t make it, Theo!
Said Fino as his greeting to his boss, while the cat girl following behind was more concerned at Theodoric’s bandaged left hand.
-Your left hand! When did you get hurt!? Here, let me heal you!
Despite the eagerness to help ease his pain, as he got his feet on the ground, Theodoric stopped the cat girl by a simple act of headpatting the short girl on her head.
-Don’t worry, I just accidentally cut myself. It’s only a scratch. Save your magic for something else Elisha, it will heal with time.
The cat girl seemed annoyed, but the feeling of having her head rubbed made her unable to make a comeback, especially when combined with a gentle smile on Theodoric’s face, or as she always call with a more endearing and personal name, Theo.
-And there she goes again.
Said the young Hero. Before he managed to say something else, the other members of Theo’s mercenary band interjected into their conversation, a macho elf with huge muscles, and a witch with green hair tied to a ponytail.
-What did a pansy like you do to get yourself cut like that? Don’t tell me you’ve been eating some kind of delicious fruit behind our back!?
-Well…some fruits are indeed very hard to peel, Egil.
The huge Elf dragged Theo by the neck and started grinding his fist onto his head, which helped messing his blonde hair into a crow’s nest.
-How dare you enjoyed feasting on good food by yourself!? If you have something good to eat, the first thing you should do is to share it with your blood brothers!
-Ouch ouch! I’m sorry I’m sorry!
Despite having his head grinded to a mess, Theo was smiling, together with his three comrades. But the fun quickly stopped when the witch with forest-green hair touched Egil’s muscular arm to remind him of what needed to be done.
-Come on now. Everyone is waiting. After we’re done, we can go back to tease Theo later.
-Oh right, I forgot! Anna’s right, you need to hurry, Theo!
With Fino’s urging, Egil released Theo away. The merchant simply nodded, and together with his friends, he approached the funeral pyres specially prepared for his mercenary band, the Empyrean. The pyres were prepared to house twenty corpses the mercenaries managed to retrieve. There were probably more out there who couldn’t be retrieved because of different circumstances. It was shame, but Theo understood there’s a limit for the time they could spare.
-I’m back, guys.
Theo remembered the faces of those lying on the pyres. The same eager faces when Theo told them they were going to partake in a suicide mission had been replaced with an eternal sleeping face, never changing, never moving, again and forever. One of them in particularly volunteered to join in Origen’s vanguard, Gust the swordsman. The last time he saw him, the young man who loved horses said to him “Everything will be okay, because I’m going with them.”. Now, Theo wished he could hear those cocky voices again.
-Oka and Alan aren’t here?
Asked the merchant as he looked around searching for his missing friends.
-Their wounds made them unable to move. What a shame, I wish I could help them if my magic was stronger…
The cat girl Elisha replied, her face saddened from the absent of her friends, but she was quickly consoled by another head pat from Theo.
-You did nothing wrong. I’m just glad they didn’t join our fallen friends on the pyre.
-Here, it’s for you, Theo.
Fino approached the merchant with a torch in his hand. Theo understood the meaning, but he refused taking on this duty.
-I was the one who sent them to their death, you were the one who faced death together with them. I don’t deserve this honor.
-You are still their commander, Theo. Please, do it for them.
Even so, the merchant refused. With a painful smile on his lips, Theo replied.
-They will be more honored to be sent by a Hero like you, rather than a nobody like me.
-You aren’t nobody. You are my friend.
Theo touched Fino by his shoulder, rather than grabbing the torch to do the deed instead.
-And you are the same to me, which is why I want to request this of you…please, do this for me…
Fino still wanted to convince his friend, but the longing look from everyone waiting for someone to do the deed had stopped him from trying to make a comeback. Reluctantly, Fino nodded to accept Theo’s request.
-Fine, I’ll do it.
-Thanks, Fino.
Theo got his hand off Fino’s shoulder and returned to the side of his friends waiting for the funeral rite to finish. Back to Fino, with a burning torch on his hand, the young Hero approached the pyre and watched the fallen mercenaries’ faces for the last time before throwing it to the pyre.
-Goodbye, my brothers.
A drop of tear flown out of Fino’s eyes, but he quickly wiped it to stop more from flowing out. Everyone else stayed silent, and simply stood there to watch the pyres burning away together with their dead comrades. It’s always ironic, consider how the day of one’s birth was the loudest day of their life, while their funeral would be their most silent moment. The site of the burning corpses filled the mercenaries with many question, but the most common one inside their head was probably “When will my turn arrive?”
-Hey, Theo?
In the midst of the silence, the witch Anna said something to the merchant. As he turned his face toward the witch girl, Anna continued.
-I have been waiting for a perfect chance to ask this…but…why did you accept to let the Empyrean join Origen’s assault on Melas?
The way Anna asked right at this moment put her question in another meaning, it was like an indirect way of asking “For what cause these people died for?”. It was hard for Theo to think of an answer that didn’t offend someone in anyway. Anna has been a long time comrade of his, which maade it hard for him to lie to her. But to tell the truth in the most blunt way was too cruel even for someone like him.
Either way, Theo’s used to make tough choices no one willing to make, and this moment wasn’t an exception.
-Money is one reason. We need more missions to earn more money to support ourselves. I’m not running a charity here, and people can’t fight with a sword alone. For mercenaries to have money, there needs to be a war. So I started one together with Origen, because mercenaries need war like fishes need water.
-I see…then what’s the other reason?
Theo sighed. The hard part was over, the last part would be easier, but it was more embarrassing to say it like this. Theo betted everybody was listening to their conversation right now, all the more reason why he should choose his words carefully.
When he finally gathered enough courage, Theo replied.
-Because I believe helping Origen was the right thing to do. I started a war with the intention to end it once and for all. I want to accomplish what these useless generals failed to do in half the time it took them to get comfortable shitting in this shithole. I want to crush the demons until none of them dare to defy us anymore, I want my Hero to slay the Demon King, I want our flag to appear in every building at the demon capital of Irkalia, I want to end this war with us as the victors, and I want to end it with all of you by my side!
Theo started to raise his volume until the end, which was basically him shouting out loud for everyone to hear. The secret attention to their conversation by everyone else had been quickly made obvious, and now, all of the mercenaries’ focus lied in Theo and what he had to say.
-When a mercenary band was formed, a creed would be make to define that band’s way of fighting and living. Ours is very simple: [Our fire never fades]. Because that’s what we are, the fire that burns everything dare to challenge us! Today, our comrades didn’t die, they simply join with our fire in order to see this war burns down to ashes! Burn the demons! Burn the incompetent generals! Burn the Demon King! We won’t embark our names onto history, we will burn history, and rewrite it with us and our victory as the only thing that matters from here and forever! Because our fire never fades, and because we are the Empyrean Mercenaries!
-Our fire never fades!
Yelled the Hero named Fino, and quickly followed by the battle cry of the mercenaries belonged to Theo’s band. The charade turned the depressing mood into something better, a result Theo accepted. It made all the embarrassment he felt from his bravado a cheap price to pay.
-I don’t understand a thing from what he just said, but it’s sure is exciting!
Said a random mercenary, which stated the simple truth that Theo was totally aware of, but as long as his men’s morale was high, anything was fine.
The noises made by the spirited mercenaries quickly died down as the cat girl Elisha approached the mercenary leader with a fake cough, a gesture polite enough to shut the cheering of the loud and wild mercenaries under Theo’s employment.
-I know improving morale is good and all, but this is still a funeral, for Lielos’s sake!
-Yeah…sorry…
Theo couldn’t help but apologize for another mess he caused, which made his other friends laugh at his face, especially Anna, the one who started the questioning in the first place. Either way, the witch seemed to be satisfied, and no longer pursued an answer from the merchant.
-Anyway, since this is still a funeral, and while I know this is no longer practiced according to the custom on the battlefield, but please, allow me to sing the Song of Departure.
The cat girl seemed more serious than normal, yet Theo could only find Elisha trying her best at being serious as something cute. He guessed when you knew someone for so long, it’s hard to think of them as someone else when you only knew them with the way they always acted around you. To him, Elisha would always be the cute little sister he never have.
-Who am I to refuse a Maiden of Heloise?
Theo smiled, with was replied by Elisha with her own bright smile. Holding the gold magic staff on her hand, Elisha walked to the front of the burning pyre, with all the attention from the mercenaries focused on her and her following action.
-Um…as you know, according to the custom in kingdoms that worship Lielos, a funeral must be finished with a priest or priestess singing the Song of Departure. I know it’s not a practice in the battlefield, but as a Maiden of Heloise, it is my duty to perform the song for the dead to pass on. I…am not a particularly good singer…and there’re no instruments to help me with my job…but please bear with me! I beg of you!
Despite her reluctance, the mercenaries took Elisha’s request in stride and simply urged her to do the job. At the back, her friends were cheering for her, believing the cat girl could perform her duty well.
-T-Thank you! I’ll do my best! Here I go!
Everyone stayed silent in wait for Elisha. Only the sound of the burning fire bothered the cat girl as she took a deep breath while her hand was holding her golden medium-length magic staff. When she was finally ready, the girl started to sing her song, the Song of Departure.
The night falls and the cold arrives.
Tomorrow dies without a flicker of light.
Why are prayers not answered? Why must the good die young?
Is there hope in the world beyond?
Elisha fell into a trance. As she sung, her golden staff started glowing and emitted a light as bright as daylight. And from the remains of the burning corpses, a miracle happened. Tiny glowing butterflies flew away from the corpses they emerged from, leaving behind a trail of glowing dust in their wake. Soon, the butterflies of death and rebirth banded together to become a swarm of miracles as they made their journey to the sky above. This miracle didn’t happen only at the Empyrean Mercenary’ funeral site, but also at other pyres at well, including even Origen’s.
But none said a thing, they were entranced with the wondrous sight and the beautiful singing voice to even care to do anything. And thus, Elisha continued to sing.
Mother, I’m scared! But do not afraid, she said.
For there is reunion in the place souls gather
To an eternal life without end, forever with those you hold dear
Mortal life is but a moment, for reincarnation is but a miracle
Existence’s meaning is to live until the departure.
For the reunion in the world after
Soon, the lone singing voice was joined by the clattering of shields and swords, by sobbing men armed with weapons to take life as they made an orchestra of metal and wood, of iron and blood, with the only hint of grace lied in the young cat girl’s voice, a Maiden’s voice. Even so, for men dying in the middle of duty, what was the better sending they could ask for from their former comrades?
Soon, we shall be together
In a plane where you’ll be in pain no longer
In a place where evil never prospers
With death comes your salvation, an end that leads to the beginning
In the land of Ardahat far far away
The song ended, along with the clapping shields and swords. The fire faded, leaving ashes behind, with the spirits drifted away from the mortal world, leaving the living behind to continue their struggle called existence.
But tomorrow didn’t die, as the light of dawn started to shine.
For those who have yet to depart from the burden of the living world.