The paws of giant wolves crushed rock in their wake.

Inconspicuous stone caravans were drawn by just one of these. Somewhere deep within the mountains of central Grandis was a band of ten caravans. They moved in a single file like a long, segmented snake as they cut through a steaming bog where a highway ran.

There wasn’t any sign of civilization for the next several tens of kilometers.

Even small villages failed to thrive in these extremes where children were doomed to be dragged from the neck down in festering waters. The sound of popping bubbles that broke at the surface of the pools of green sludge somehow drowned the galloping of the wolves.

Their wheels were also far wider than regular caravan wheels to provide more surface area in case they strayed off the beaten path.

The Central Bogs was a place just southwest of Concordia’s Stand which stood firmly north of Mount Virt across another section of mountain ranges. Bowstrings were drawn taught as arches hidden within the compartments kept an eye out for any stray movement outside.

Blades were sharpened and fresh fruits were devoured by haggard men who lived the mercenary life. Within each compartment were cages that were draped with cloth. Light was barely able to seep through the sniper holes of the caravans, so what laid behind those cages were never allowed to see the light of day.

Murmurs and soft whimpering could be heard from behind the cloth. Metal bars trembled as the faint outline of multiple young figures held onto each other for support. The core of an apple rolled towards one of the cages, the putrid stains of the gangrene mouth of a mercenary glued to the fruit.

Tiny and large hands swiftly clawed out for the meal in desperation, humoring the men who were overtly thrilled by this. Random scraps, fish bones, and food that would not even be fed to a pet were placed beside the cages. Sometimes empty bowls would be left, others contained spit and other putrid bodily fluids.

The despair of the Demi-humans that were chained and kept within the cages was their sole source of entertainment. It was the eighth day of their journey from the far east where the few remaining Demi-humans of this side of grandis were speculated to reside.

Some were even from Brandar, evident by their apparel which no Grandis-born Demi-human could ever conceive of wearing. Most were bruised, others with heavily broken limbs supported by children. Few remaining unmoving in corners, their bodies thin from malnourishment as if they were seeking a natural way out of their predicament.

“Too bad we can’t do more to them. Those crazy bastards want them in good shape.” One said, peering into a hole above the caravan to get a better look around them. “And they’re paying well too.”

“Think any of them will be accepted by that Slipper thing?”

“They’re just sacrifices. But I bet it’s a guise to do what we wanna do right now with ‘em. But coin is coin. They’ll find us wherever we try to go. You know how persistent they are.”

They did not see the Demi-humans as equals at all. Human superiority was a condition that afflicted the humans of Grandis primarily, as well as those in Emvita but solely towards the Demons.

The Demi-humans trembled within their shared cages at the mention of becoming sacrifices. Swollen eyes looked at one another for comfort. Half the time those eyes fell onto those who had long accepted their fate.

“… Are we… going to die?” A young, dog-eared boy clung onto the tattered dress of a bunny-eared woman from Brandar.

She was one of the few who were gagged with a muzzle meant for animals. Since she was likely to be able to use magic, keeping her mouth sealed was the only way to prevent her from causing problems.

She shook her head in a no to assure him.

“Will someone really help us?”

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It was better to say yes in this situation. Deep down they all knew that they were not going to come out of this alive.

Suddenly, the legs of the man whose head peered out the caravan stiffened severely. No one noticed it at all, as he appeared as if he was still standing on the stepladder. The Demi-humans froze instinctively at the scent of blood, but they could not tell if it came from the humans or from one of their own.

A whistle blew from outside as the wolves howled simultaneously to alert the mercenaries of an approaching caravan.

“Ten caravans. They’re also drawn along by wolves by the looks of it. You getting a better look up there? Hey?”

“Probably still using [Detection] magic to see what’s behind their walls.”

“They’re heading where we came from. Are they heading through the Smugglers Pass to the west or are they trying to sneak into Concordia’s Stand?”

“Should we ask them? Oh.” One of the men peered through the gap, exchanging a brief stare with a pair of sky-blue eyes. “A… Healer…?”

The wheels of all ten of their caravans collectively collapsed, causing the mercenaries and the Demi-humans to tumble around. Before they could even make sense of the situation, the caravans outside similarly came to an abrupt stop.

“They’re coming to rob our goods –!”

The head of one disappeared before he could even finish speaking. Something tiny had penetrated through the thick wall of their caravan. The thunderous explosion caused the mercenaries to hesitate to draw their weapons.

Because as soon as one did, their arm was severed clean by another nearby explosion.

*Bwoooooooom*

A haunting horn was played by the other caravans simultaneously, the sound vibrating their bones and shaking the thick willows of the bog.

“Exit the caravans unarmed and you will be spared. Failure to comply will result in immediate termination.”

The voice was spoken via [Amplification] magic by the hearty voice of a ferocious man. It was clear that they were heavily outmatched. But even so, few tried to draw their weapon regardless of this. One even tried to stand in front of a cage only to be shot by an invisible projectile just seconds before using the Demi-humans as a shield.

“They have [Detection] magic of their own. Far stronger than ours. Dammit… Why didn’t warn us you –!”

Finally, the man above fell between the mercenaries. His face was split in half by something blunt. Blood spluttered beneath them as they realized the severity of the situation. Resisting was all but futile now.

“You have ten seconds to leave.”

“Ten.”

“Nine.”

“Go… GO! MOVE!”

The mercenaries were far too heavily equipped and broad to funnel through the caravan’s exit without issue.

“Eight.”

Their caravans were large enough to hold upwards of 20 people and another few dozen Demi-humans.

“Seven.”

But even so, they struggled and trampled on one another.

“Six.”

The Demi-humans were left alone in the caravans, weeping, and huddling together for protection.

“Five.”

The older Demi-humans offered their lives first by placing themselves at the outermost of the group.

“Four.”

But little did they know…

“Three.”

Was that these people who had declared war on them.

“Two.”

Were in actually here to rescue them.

“One.”

A hail of bullets riddled the sides of the caravans. Thunderous roars dominated the bog as even dangerous predators fled from the scene. The mercenaries, merchants, and drivers who had failed to leave the caravans were reduced to a thick sludge.

Outside the mercenaries were rounded by the wolves of the opposition’s caravans. They were easily detached and left to operate on their own, and on their backs were humans and Demi-humans wearing red bodysuits, a half-coat, shorts, and a red tie.

And held in their arms was a scarlet, bulky weapon capable of shooting projectiles. In short, it was a firearm not dissimilar from the Talons of the Black Wings.

“You – You’re – those red-armored Collectors!? How can you do this to us!? They are not yours to take! Isn’t that the deal we’ve made with your kind!?” The merchant referenced a longstanding treated that was made with Scarlet Logic and the slavedrivers of Grandis.

This treaty had prevented their Collection Teams from taking slaves that were already owned by a master. However, unbeknownst to him was that these people were not from Scarlet Logic.

Or more accurately, they used to be from Scarlet Logic.