“I would never bend for some corporate thuggery.”
- Excerpt from Lieutenant Hans Hoffman’s Journal Entries.
+++ Lieutenant Hans Hoffman +++
Rousselot City
AUG 5, 1538 CE
“Well, crap, here they come.”
Captain Strobel’s words were cut short as two officers arrived in the room. Both of them seemed well-dressed, with the signature black tabards of the elite Imperial Musketeer Guards. And they certainly looked like they meant business when they entered.
Both Adelyn and Hans straightened themselves, as the two Imperials took their flashy headgear and bowed with it.
“Ladies, Gentlemen,” the lead one introduced with a smile. “I am Captain Jonas Weibel. This fellow here is Lieutenant Malte Preisner.”
The second man smiled too. “Aye. Greetings everyone.”
“We’re sent here by the Company,” he looked at Hans. “Fine uniform you have there, Sir.”
“The Company?” Hans looked at Captain Strobel. “I thought they’re Imperial Musketeer Guards.”
“Pfft,” Captain Weibel laughed. “Haven’t you heard? The Imperium is possibly bankrupt and is downsizing. The Company is not, and they’re searching for more employees. Thus, here we are.”
“You two got dismissed too?” Captain Strobel asked.
“Well, they couldn’t even be bothered to give the dismissal officially. They just stopped paying us.”
“Guess we really are all the same out here in Ygeia.”
The two musketeers laughed. “Ain’t that right? Glory to the Empress! Who doesn’t pay her soldiers!” The mirth in the face of Captain Weibel disappeared as he walked forward. “Anyhow, you two. The Company needs you. That’s why we’re here, to appraise our new…erm, recruits.”
Hans frowned. “Sir, I apologize but…”
“We haven’t consented to anything yet,” Adelyn finished as she crossed her arms. “Is this how it is? The Company can now just waltz in and ask us to be under your payroll. Apologies, but for now, we have an obligation with the lord of Rousselot and her citizens.”
“That may be so,” the musketeer calmly took a seat. “But, the two of you, I’ve heard you two can take down a demon with just a few shots. I’m sure the Countess has rewarded you well financially for that, but lady and knight, the Company can reward you more.”
“We’re not really looking for great financial compensation,” Adelyn said. “Our goal is to eliminate what we can eliminate and do what we can to help. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“Well, the more money you have, the better you’d be at killing them,” the man said. “What? Does the word ‘mercenary’ taint your pure vision of yourself?”
“So you sold your soul to the Company?” Asked Adelyn.
“You could say that,” the musketeer replied calmly. “You could do the same. So what if the big wigs on the top are some greedy fat cats who have practically turned this Principality into their little enterprise, eh? At least they pay well. And our bosses want the two of you under us, doing the deed that must be done.”
“Spit it out,” Hans said. “What do you want?”
“Kill the Calamity of Desire,” he said with hollowness. “And end its disruption on the business of the Imperial Ygeia Company in this Principality. We’re offering you a deal of a lifetime. The initial offer is a hundred thousand Imperial Marks. The current bounty on the Calamity of Desire.”
“...Two hundred thousand Imperial Marks?” Hans asked again, and Captain Weibel’s smirk grew.
“Oh, I see that your partner is being tempted here, Miss Angel,” the man said. “Come on, are you playing that Virtus type of act again? ‘Oh, I’m above earthly needs such as gold’, please, get off your high horse. The Principality needs to stop that creature, or people will die. And you two killed the Rodent of Pestilence using a machine none in this continent can use.”
“How the hell do you even know so much?” Adelyn worriedly asked.
“Come on. Every kill of a demon is widely publicized in Principalities that declared them as an existential threat,” Captain Weibel explained. “The report from Captain Strobel over here has already been copied hundreds or even thousands of times and distributed to all military formations in the Principality or in the continent. If it’s about a demon, words spread fast, missy.”
“To be fair, it wasn’t like you were hiding it either, Captain,” Hans added to her.
“Yeah, yeah, still, it’s kinda disconcerting how they waltz in here with like some loan shark or a predatory salesman.”
“I apologize, but we’re not asking, Miss Angel,” Captain Weibel said. “Word of warning, we’re being very nice at asking you this, because we see the need to be nice to our potential assets. The threat that the Calamity of Desire has presented to the Principality and the IYC means that we have the right to take any means necessary to take it down.”
“Yeah, and what if we deny your proposition?” Adelyn asked.
“Let’s just say that the Principality won’t be a very welcoming place to you,” the man said, before turning to Hans. “And don’t be such a squeamish man, Sir Foreign Knight. That girl you saved…you can thank the IYC’s kindness for canceling the Imperial Government’s order of hunting down every noble who tried to rebel last year. Still…that doesn’t mean she won’t be caught in the crossfire if we get…shall we say, displeased.”
He slipped in a bunch of papers—contracts, Hans could see, on the table, all tied together. Adelyn quickly took it and began reading it, as the musketeer leaned back on his chair.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
“We’ll give you the two of you, two weeks,” he raised two fingers on his hand. “Two. Enough time to decide, and perhaps enough time to help in the defense of Rousselot if need be. We’ll be staying here too, if you two need some advice or counsel. In the meantime, think it through well.”
He stood up and looked at his companion. “Right, let’s go have a drink at the local tavern Malte, this entire thing stuffed me.”
“Aye, sir,” his subordinate said, as he followed him off the door.
“Have a good day, ‘Golden Angel’ and ‘Grey Knight’, have a good-arsed day.”
What the hell did I do to earn that damned nickname?
They were really in some trouble now.
+++
Rousselot City
AUG 8, 1538 CE
He was just supposed to drink a bit an hour after the meeting while watching the men drill on the barrack’s courtyard.
Unfortunately, his brief time to ruminate was cut short by distant sounds of automatic gunfire—then musket fire.
“Get the hell out of the way!”
Hans rushed outside of the barracks as musketeers of all kinds from the city’s garrison ran through the streets minutes later after he retrieved his gun from the meeting room.
Captain Strobel, alongside the two IYC mercenaries, was already gone by the time he reached the meeting room and exited the barracks, which meant—he was sorely late on the action.
Outside, cuirassiers and men on horseback also dashed through the streets, shouting orders to the soldiers advancing forward. Hans wasn’t really in his full Kevlar gear, but when he left the church, he had already taken his Ruger ZO8 and SMG.
While he knew it would be foolish to fight on the streets considering that he was no well-trained infantryman, and his SMG was really just for self-defense for the most part, Hans needed to find Adelyn and Alizée quickly.
It’s impossible.
Hans ran as he followed a squad of musketeers.
It’s impossible.
“Officer!” Hans shouted at one of them. “What the hell’s happening?!”
One of the musketeers turned around. “Sire! There’s someone attacking the Countess’ estate. We’ve been called to reinforce the area!”
Civilians of all kinds were already flooding the streets, shouting “Demon!” and “Run!” from the top of their lungs. Hans gritted his teeth, following the soldiers rushing toward the Countess’ estate. It was near the center of the city. Adelyn and Alizée went there early in the morning to petition again, and, well, Hans on the other hand met with Captain Strobel on organizing the defense lines, as he always did, for that was his task.
Thus he was badly separated from them.
However, it simply was impossible! How the hell could a demon even enter the city when it hadn’t even reached the frontlines they set up north yet? Did it sneak through? But there had been nothing that attacked the walls!
Hans heard the loud cracks of gunpowder in the distance, as he continued rushing through the streets. Soon, he stopped, seeing a line of musketeers and pikemen forming up a barricade on one of the lanes. They all prepared their weapons, as an officer shouted, “Fire with your skills!”
The lane was immediately obscured by gunpowder smoke, preventing Hans from seeing what was up ahead. He rushed to the side of one of the buildings and kept himself in cover as he watched the men battle just ahead of him. The musketeers hid behind the few pikemen that shakingly kept their pikes aimed ahead, all while they reloaded their guns. It was slow. Very slow. And as the smoke dissipated—Hans saw it.
It wasn’t an eel. No…what he could see was a man covered in a tattered black cloak. But his head was gone. Instead, it was almost as if he had a dozen tentacles on top of him. The man marched forward, slowly, as the soldiers began shouting for him to stand down, to no avail.
“Crap! Everyone! Retreat!”
The shout from the officer immediately collapsed the entire formation, as he ran, and his soldiers followed behind in a panicked rout, almost throwing their pikes and guns in the process.
Goddess, please give me strength.
How could they have been attacked by this thing? He aimed his gun at the creature, and due to the fact that the soldiers were still retreating in front of him, Hans took very careful shots. A burst, and another, and another. It was ineffective.
Damn it!
He was now about to follow the running soldiers. He definitely needed to retreat.
Suddenly, however, someone dropped in front of the creature.
The Countess.
Almost as if she flew right in. She pulled out something from her hip, hidden underneath her coat. It was a saber—and it quickly glowed fire-red. Hans immediately rushed forward to support her.
“Countess Fresnel—”
“Stand back, Lieutenant,” she said. “Go find your Captain and that kid. I’ll deal with this man.”
“But…”
Her face turned to face him. “But what?! I told the two of you time and time again. This place isn’t safe. Not for us. Not for her. You two should not have kept pestering me and just left.”
The creature stopped.
“That thing…he did something to the girl,” the Countess said, a little calmer this time. “She and Adelyn are in the estate. If you still have any balls between your legs, you better move now and help those two. I’ll hold this off.”
“Julie! You’re a traitor to the cause!” Hans almost flinched back as the thing shouted. “But you can still join me! Join us! We have already found the perfect replacement for our daughter! We can still rebuild our family. And destroy those invaders at last!”
Hans slowly backed off, not really understanding the Vanus language being used by the creature.
“You’re not him anymore,” the Countess growled. “You’re nothing but a false corpse that succumbed to your desire for revenge.”
What the hell even is happening?
Was the two related in some way? Were the two mortal enemies? Who the hell was that man that he was now attempting to converse with the Countess?
One of its tentacles struck forward—but a sudden fiery slice dropped it, chopping it off on the floor. More followed—and the Countess sliced it off with ease, barely even touching her, and leaving a grizzly mess of dissolving tentacles on the road.
But the creature’s tentacles began growing back again, almost just as rapidly.
“Jacques…I’ll give you rest soon enough…”
The Countess charged forward, as Hans cowered and ran away onto the direction of the estate. He didn’t need to see whatever the hell was about to happen there, with just the powerful sounds of their battle the only thing he could hear. Down on the streets, Hans saw lines of dead soldiers and civilians, dozens upon dozens—all of them extremely wet.
They all seemed to have been hit by a powerful pulse of water. Hans kneeled to check one of the dead musketeers. His torso was blown open bloodily, and he was completely wet with water. In fact, he looked back, as a fiery blast detonated on the battlefield behind him.
The Countess dropped on the rubble of a collapsed building, her coat now gone—and her white shirt now soiled with subtle cuts that oozed blood.
A barrage of glowing water orbs slammed into four fiery runic circles that appeared when the Countess aimed her sword in the direction of the creature—now in its true form, a bluish eel eight meters in height as it towered on them, and with its head replaced by tentacles.
“I said run!” the Countess ordered with her last breath. “Go now!”
Hans immediately complied, even if he still had no idea where he should go first.
To his Wanderfalke.
Or to the Countess’ estate.