"A report has arrived, General Tu izu. It's from the Wildlands." An eye patched man entered the large tent, speaking to the back of the sitting general.

"Relay it to me, and without formalities, if you would." The general cocked his head sideways, sipping his tea in small increments, affording only the barest of attention to the soldier.

"I apologise General, but the commanding officer of the Wildlands, Commander Wam Muren, asked that he be able to make the report himself."

"WHAT? Why is the commanding officer here? Do not tell me the Wildlands have already been lost!?" The general bounded out of his seat, one hand on his stomach, and one stroking his beard, his rotund build easily upending the table he was sitting under.

"I apologise, General, all I can say is that the Commander's troops did not seem overly exhausted. I can not speak any further on the matter." The eye patched soldier bowed slightly, clearly refusing to speak any further on the matter. During a scuffle between commanding officers, it was best to smile like a fool and refuse to play toward any side.

"Commander Wam Muren requests an audience with the General." A broad shouldered man parted the opening to the impressively sized tent, not waiting for a confirmation of his request. The spacious tent housed multiple tools necessary for strategy, along with a long and wide table, who's chairs were filled with army old-heads, each sporting an impressive rank, and an even more impressive history. The man who would stand a full head above regular soldiers found himself in a room of his equals, with the general standing a head above even him.

"Commander Wam Muren greets General Tu Izu and his cabinet." Muren dropped to one knee, feeling the varying stares of the old men bear down on his body. Some tried to intimidate him, some curious, and some simply apathetic to his arrival.

"Explain." The general stood at the opposite end of the long table, back turned to the commander, his single utterance caused nodding heads and harrumphs of agreement amongst the old men.

"A High-Daemon was summoned."

"WHAT?!" "LIES!" "IMPOSSIBLE." The shouts of the veteran warriors bellowed out from the war-tent, nearly sending Muren stumbling, and cutting off his sentence before he had managed to finish.

"SILENCE!" Tu Izu's voice thundered across the room. Travelling far off into the encampment, no doubt waking some panicked soldiers.

"Explain." Tu Izu annunciated his words, more for his cabinets ears than Muren's.

"By your will, Great General." 

Muren stood, and with a gesture, an aide to his left began handing out roughly written and stained documents to the men gathered. The general motioned away the aide, denying the report.

"I was patrolling the Wildlands, per orders, when we were ambushed by a Daemonic troupe thrice our size. We bunkered down and were successful at fighting off the initial waves, after a time we realised that our success stemmed from a mysterious lack of elites within the enemy ranks, and on the fifth night I received a report from Petty Scout Penn, detailing the missing enemy elites were spotted at a fortified location two miles to our north. I communed with my cabinet, and together we came to the conclusion that it was less of an ambush, and more that the enemy foot soldiers were protecting their elites. I mobilised my Mounted Hussar troop, and at the break of dawn the following day, cut a swarthe through the enemy ranks, intent on crushing the gathered elites through the element of surprise. We only realised what was being done too late, and the enemy succeeded in summoning a High-Daemon, sacrificing countless elites in the process."

Muren spoke slowly and clearly, trying his best to not leave out a single detail. He expected a rebuttal at every corner, the grizzled warriors trying to uncover out his objectives and motivations at every junction, but to his surprise, the war-tent fell silent.

"The enemy elites succeeded in summoning a High-Daemon, and you stand before me today? Your armour barely worse for wear? You would have me believe you were able to escape such a being?" The general looked down upon the soldier, implicitly threatening unspeakable torment should Muren lie to him.

"The High-Daemon lies slain."

"INSOLENCE!"

Muren met the general's powerful gaze, allowing the splinters of the destroyed table to pierce his skin. The general was genuinely furious now. Muren could feel it in his bones. An overwhelming aura.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, Commander Muren. You would take credit for having slain a High-Daemon today? Something I would be hard-pressed to survive an encounter against?" The general's stare increased in pressure, and Muren found that his feet could not be moved from their position.

"You are mistaken, Great General."

"Continue."

"I take no credit for the killing of the High-Daemon. Along with my men, I was prepared to die in order to inflict a meaningful scar upon the beast, but as we advanced on its position, we found it face down in the dirt, dead from a single slash across its throat, practically beheading the creature. The elites that had been sacrificed in the summoning of the monstrosity meant their army was relatively weak after the High-Daemon's demise, allowing my men to quickly route the enemy, which is why I stand before you today, barely worse for wear." Muren matched the gaze of the general, watching his expression waver from his retelling. The old men all long since stunned into silence from his report.

"... If your tale is true, this will be a story retold countless times throughout the Empire. Tell me you have more than your word alone, Muren, so that I may tell this to my superiors without being laughed from my post." The General rubbed the bridge of his nose, worry quickly replacing his anger.

"I have a scout that has swore under oath to me and my subordinates, that he witnessed the events of the Daemon's demise." Wuren postured behind him, and a weaselly looking man entered the tent, quickly falling to both knees.

"S-Scout T-Tellim greets General and his c-cabinet." The man... boy? The boy lowered his posture way more than necessary, and knelt with both knees, in a flagrant error of military protocol. He was only a general, not a Royal for Nuwa's sake.

"Stand before you commit a crime neither of us could walk away from, Scout." The general's voice was fair but powerful, almost lifting the boy from the ground itself.

"Please, retell your version of events." Tu Izu gestured for the scout to continue on.

"W-we were patrolling the Wildlands General, per-" Tu Ziu sighed, interrupting the scout. "I've heard as such. Please, tell us about the High-Daemon, and please, disperse with the nervousness, you are among friends here." A lie, but a convenient one.

"By your will. My scout detachment witnessed a gathering of enemy elites, confirming Commander Muren's theory that we were winning due to underwhelming enemy forces. My squad captain, Petty Scout Penn, tasked me with staying behind and documenting enemy movement, as he returned to make a report to Commander Muren."

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

"And it was after he left that you witnessed the birth of a High-Daemon, yes?" The general cocked an eyebrow, eager to hear the scouts story.

"Correct, General. Their was a commotion within the enemy fortification, and I prepared to escape in order to notify the Commander of enemy movement. It was then when a shockwave knocked me flat, and when I had righted myself, a towering, twin-horned High-Daemon stood within the ruins of the fort, it's glowing yellow eyes like beacons in the morning hue." The men across the table's faces paled. Even the general seemed shocked at the tale. Only those unlucky enough to have crossed paths with a High-Daemon knew of their gleaming yellow eyes. Not something this scout should have been able to know.

"Continue."

"By your will. It walked through the remains of the fortress, tearing the thick walls down without even noticing they were there. I hunkered down as flat as I could amidst the knoll, not even daring to move in fear of alerting the monster. It was then when a man dropped from the sky, landing not a few metres away from the beast."

"... A... Man? A human man dropped from the sky in front of the High-Daemon?"

"Correct, at least as far as I could tell General."

"Continue." The aged veterans all waited with bated breath, hunched forward on their chairs like children listening to their fathers grandiose stories, eager to know the ending of the scouts report.

"There is not much more to say, General. The wretched beast bellowed a heart-wrenching battle-cry, confirmed by all of our surviving men, and the man simply waved his arm towards the Daemon, the monster creasing over and dying without fanfare, the collapsing body of the gargantuan beast sent a wave of soot over the battlefield, which allowed me to escape and report to Commander Muren what I had witnessed."

The experienced warriors, veterans of hundreds of battles, all looked around the table, trying to find an ounce of falsehood present in the scouts tone, but all came up empty, the tent falling into an eerie silence.

"This man, what did he look like? Any symbols? Clan insignia?" The general and his cabinet inched even closer to the edge of their seats, glued to the scouts every word.

"I apologise. the distance was too great, and my squad captain feared that the elites would notice our position should we get any closer. I was only able to tell one thing, and that was that the man was completely, stark, naked." The men deflated upon knowing that the scout hadn't witnessed the appearance of such a powerful potential ally, and one from their lands no less.

"Sigh, experts, eccentric one and all, and I assume you're both prepared to testify as such, under oath, before the Magistrate?"

"By your will." The scout and Muren replied in sync.

"... Do you have any idea what this means, Muren?" The general raised a hand, indicating for Muren to approach, and walked over to the war board, giving Muren a chance to speak in relative privacy.

"I am an old-guard of His Majesty The Emperor's army, veteran of countless battles. I am no Royal Pridebearer, but I daresay I know more than most. Should your words hold true, this happening will shake our empire to it's core. For such a hidden dragon to be both capable, and willing to kill a High-Daemon so easily, and all the way out in our Wildlands no less. This news may travel all the way to the Emperors ears."

"Something else, Great General, there was a survivor found within the ranks of the enemy. A boy. Beaten and broken, likely a slave. He... He has traces of daemon ichor engraved into his face. Our healers tried their best, but as you know, it is a volatile substance at the best of times, and it seems he will never see out of his left eye again. My head medical officer theorised that he was an early experiment, the enemy elites trying to summon the High-Daemon with his body and soul as the conduit."

The nature of the conversation quashed the upbeat expression of the general like a bucket of water over a fire. The discovery of a hidden expert living within the Wildlands, though mysterious, could only mean good things for the Empire, and by extension, Tu Izu, but that didn't mean there were bright days ahead. If that expert had not acted, what would have come of the situation? The Wildlands would have almost certainly been lost, and with it, Wam Muren. Although they weren't an integral part of the Empire's lands, the enemy usurping any area was a great cause for concern, not to mention the scathing condemnation that would be placed directly at General Tu Ziu's feet, and that is without even talking about the fact that there would be an uncounted for High-Daemon prowling the Wildlands, ready to strike at civilisation at anytime. In such a distressing situation, Tu Ziu's hands would be tied. He'd be forced to request a reinforcement batch of powerful warriors, and he'd be personally flabbergasted if his superiors and detractors didn't use such a perfect situation to have him removed from his post.

Or worse.

The boy's ordeal, however, was one not uncommon within the hearts of the citizens, too many had their homes, friends, and families destroyed by the enemy. Suffering at their hands was something that could be sympathised with all throughout the empire. That being said, not many suffered as greatly as he did, nor at such a young age. And even less lived to tell the tale. Assaulted with Daemon ichor? The boy would be lucky if he lived long enough to learn simple addition, let alone live a long and healthy life.

"A shame, by any measure. Will he survive?"

"My medics tell me he is in a comatose state right now, they're unsure when he will wake. If at all." Muren dejectedly stated. It was stories like this that fuelled the hearts of soldiers and common men alike. This was what the enemy did, their influence one of pure malevolence, only destruction and misery left in their wake.

"I see... I will leave it to you, do as you see fit Commander." The general grasped Muren's shoulder, leading him back toward the long table. "Captain Bu, arrange a carriage for myself and Muren, along with his scout. When I report this to my superiors, they will want you witnesses there with me. Understood?"  At the end of the day, Tu Izu was glad that his upstart Commander was the stalwart and courageous man that he had taken him for, prepared to die in combat in order to wound an enemy he could never hope to defeat. He was surely one worth investing into.

"You would do better to prepare more than a carriage, Great General."

"And why is that, Muren?"

"I assume the Magistrate would want to see the corpse of a High-Daemon, no?"

Tu Ziu bolted out of the war tent, his cabinet sharing confused glances before joining him. Following the gazes of the floored soldiers all around them, Tu Izu's vision finally fell upon the otherworldly large corpse of a High-Daemon, Its sand stained red corpse no doubt all the way back at Commander Muren's barracks, and yet, it's prone body still dwarfed over the structures of his camp.

The stories that would be told of today were already flooding through general Tu Izu's mind, each time increasing in their farfetchedness. How would his rivals react if they heard the corpse of a behemoth high-daemon sat within his encampment? News travels fast, and Tu Izu guessed it would be less than a day before he was swamped by letters. Sent from his rivals, detractors, allies, and superiors alike. Perhaps the Star of Izu was set to rise even higher.

"You're going to need a bigger carriage..."