"Alright you good for nothings- let's see where we landed!"

Shulva hated his job.

Instead of properly casing a location or aiming for a population centre, his boss had 'picked a spot that felt right'.

Kicking the door off his drop pod, Shulva felt the magical tethers networking their voices together snap.

An ill portent.

Whipping his tail back and forth, Shulva took in the planet they'd accepted a contract to occupy.

The main movers and shakers all had stables of [H] Grades to deploy- for the bit players, the small fries?

Well, they needed warm bodies, who better than an outfit like Sting In The Tail, [H] Grade mercs who asked no questions and bid below market price?

Shulva's slit pupils slowly adapted to the darkness, the only light cast by the moon above.

Whatever the steel poles lining the street had been for, their bulbs lay broken, shards of glass littering the cracked road.

A mana surge or a fight?

Former seemed more likely, low probability of a native being strong enough to cause such devastation.

"Venom- you alive? Sound off maggot!"

Sighing to himself and hefting his spear out of the rapidly cooling drop pod, Shulva responded.

"Callsign Venom alive and kicking, ready for duty Squad Leader Eleum!"

A crossbow bolt thudded into the metal beside Shulva, the tip having grazed his scales.

"It's Boulder while we're on a mission you goddamned reprobate! Drop and give me fifty!"

"Sir, all due respect, go fuck yourself. Something's wrong. Comms are dead- did Bloodhound croak?"

Shulva regretted asking the question as the bitch hauled herself out of a drop pod to his side, black fur bristling with anger.

"We're being jammed. Someone's blocking my mana- as you can tell Venom, you prick."

Before Shulva could fire back, an oppressive aura settled over the three-man squad.

It demanded obeisance and hungered for blood. The aura Shulva would have expected from an experienced griffon or devil.

Not from a native of a fresh planet.

An excited voice followed, accompanied by the sound of a sword leaving its scabbard.

"Wow, you guys feel pretty strong! Not that I'm complaining, haven't had a good fight in days at this point."

A woman snapped at the man's voice, reprimanding.

"Swordsman. Far be it from me to criticize, but you would yield the element of surprise so readily? Surely you could have slain one before the others had noticed you?"

Scanning the surroundings, Shulva narrowed the voice's location down- a house to their right, far enough that they couldn't approach without opening themselves up.

Pointing it out to Bloodhound had the pair launch a javelin and volley of noxious mana bolts respectively.

The house collapsed, the two continuing to chat as Shulva tried to pin them down again.

"They're strong, but not that strong. I feel like I'll get a better fight if they're working together."

"A fair point, well made. Alright, my work is done. Will you require further support?"

"Nah, I'll give you dibs on next."

Shulva heard the metal hit the ground, a man coming into view from out of the darkness.

He'd never seen the black armour before- but the face.

He recognised the face.

Everyone taking work on this hotspot knew that man.

Priority target one, the Stormbound Swordsman.

Last he'd seen they were offering ten million for him.

Five million for his corpse.

Bonus pay the better preserved his face and groin were.

A nascent Worldbreaker.

Shulva's spear flew back to his hand as a volley of quarrels tore into the swordsman.

Each one penetrated just enough to tickle flesh, the swordsman laughing and ripping the barbs free, drawing a white blade once the last shaft hit the ground.

"Huh. You actually scratched my armour? Not bad, not bad at all. My turn."

Shulva blinked.

The next second, Bloodhound's head went sailing through the air and the swordsman's blade vanished.

Spear met sword, a shouted order from Boulder ignored as Shulva tried to keep pace with his enemy.

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

Emphasis on tried.

Each exchange saw another shallow wound inflicted on his scales.

The target laughed as he fought, leaping over a tail strike and dodging another flurried hail of projectiles from behind.

"Always kill the mage first! Rookie mistake guys!"

Shulva joined the dots as he gave up on attack, focusing on defence.

Stormbound had a mage supporting him?

But who?

The analysts all proclaimed with confidence the others he'd picked up had been more like pets than actual friends.

Shulva supposed the answer no longer mattered.

Channelling his mana through a circuit that focused on his tail, Shulva felt the barbs extend and lengthen ready to be wielded in offense.

He had a chance, one single chance to defeat this monster.

Stormbound's swords became a blur as they battered against him, a black cloud forming above the man's head, crackling with ominous intent.

Then the lightning bolt tore through his chest and Shulva knew no more.

Whipping his swords to the side, Leon battered another hail of projectiles aside, pouncing on the smallest of the humanoids and shoving both blades through the creature's chest.

Black blood burst forth, the carapace-clad crossbowman collapsing to the ground.

Despite the pain, the mercenary pawed at his side, bringing the crystal fastened there to his mouth.

"Commander Zanzibardo, I'm done for. Code Storm. Tell my kids I love them."

The blades descended once again, puncturing his heart.

The last thing Eleum heard before he died came from the target and his mage.

"Weird. They were super weak. Dibs next!"

"You promised I had dibs! You cannot violate such a sacred oath!"

"You never said dibs though. Them's the breaks, I don't make the rules."

"Blackguard! Scoundrel!"

On another street, a second squad pulled themselves free of their wrecked drop pods.

"Sound off- Horn, Claw. You guys alive?"

"Callsign Claw, still breathing. Wish I weren't."

"Horn. It would take more than this to slay me, Bull. Our communication spells are dead."

Affixing his gauntlets, the half-minotaur let out a huff of air through his nostrils.

"Radio the commander Horn. Claw, get me a visual read on the area. Goddamned Zanzibardo threw us into this headfirst."

The comms crystal on Horn's belt flared to life, a message from their errant commander broadcasted at a volume fit to wake the dead.

"Attention all maggots! We've hit pay dirt. Code Storm. Squad Three are dead. Time to earn our creds- don't try to take him alive. Get out there and do our name proud!"

A bead of sweat rolled down the minotaur's forehead as he heard the orders.

Horn clapped him on the back, snapping him from his thoughts.

"Bull. Your orders?"

Before the squad leader could speak a man's voice cut him off.

"Another trio. Weaker than the last. They're yours."

A woman answered, the trio in question rapidly locking on to the source of the sound.

"As is my right! Do not pretend to bestow me what I already possess! The dibs remain mine, swordsman!"

She materialised before them, melting from the night a flame dancing between her fingers.

Under his breath, Claw posed a question.

"Who the fuck is she Bull? She isn't on the ranking list, right?"

Fighting back the rage her sheer redness inspired, Bull responded.

"Doesn't matter. Any native stupid to show themselves is a valid target."

Her flame flickered faster, a gentle smile alongside a quirked eyebrow let Bull know they'd been heard.

"Unlike the brute, I, Octavia Caesar, care not for dragging out combat. Burn."

The ground exploded, three pillars of flame immolating the second squad.

Whistling from his rooftop perch, Leon leapt to the ground.

"Damn. Neat trick, tunnelling the flame beneath their feet with one hand while you distracted them with the sparks in your other hand. Wouldn't work on me, I would have dodged it."

Dispelling the flame between her fingers, Octavia rounded on Leon

"Lies! You would have not been able to react!"

"Totally would have dodged."

"Would not!"

"Would. Also, dibs next."

A shriek that most in the town attributed to an invader's brutality rang out through the night, an irate Octavia stomping off with a chuckling Leon in tow.

Outside the only house in town to still have working lights, Commander Zanzibardo found himself face to face with an irate sulphur devil.

They'd tried to force their way in, only to have the [G] Grade bodyguards calmly force them right back out.

Negotiations had broken down before they'd even really begun.

"How many times we gotta say it, Zanziprick? These people are VVIPs. You wanna lodge a complaint, you get in touch with Hellstone Inc's PR department."

Thrashing his tail from side to side, the half-manticore mercenary thrust his comms crystal under the smirking sulphur devil's nose.

"Fine! I will- fucking devil scum."

The line went straight to a voicemail, a cheery woman's voice ringing out.

"We at Hellstone Incorporated apologise for any inconvenience- at the request of President Zerasos, all calls from your planet have been automatically declined."

The voice of the CEO himself followed it up.

"Ha! If you're calling from his planet, means you pissed off the kid. Good luck!"

The sulphur devil looked Zanzibardo dead in the eye and shrugged.

"Eh, the boss makes a good point. How many squads are you down?"

Gritting his teeth, Zanzibardo turned on his heel and returned to the extremely basic commander's tent he'd had the peons set up.

His adjutant and secretary lay dead in their seats, necks spewing blood while a man in black armour sat sipping a glass of water, a woman in red massaging his shoulders.

"Little lower, harder. Harder woman, I wanna feel something here."

"I will have revenge for this indignity swordsman."

"C'mon, don't be all pouty- you bet I couldn't kill them both before they left their seats. You lost. You can't have wanted a foot rub that badly."

Leaning over his shoulder, the woman shot daggers at Zanzibarto, who very slowly took his own seat.

"I, Octavia Caesar, have not had a day of proper self-care in months. I would kill a country for a spa day."

The man laughed then sighed as the woman's fingers ground down on his shoulders, his head inclining towards Zanzibardo.

"Women eh? So, you're in charge of these weaklings raiding my town. I should kill you all, but you're small fry- not really worth the time. Tell your men to surrender and arrange a transport off-world. I'll allow you to leave, provided you give me the name of your employer."

Pressing his elbows on the table, Stormbound continued, his aura leaking out as his murderous intent rose.

"That's option one. Option two. I kill you and everyone else. Then I pile you up in a mass grave, take a picture to commemorate the occasion and move on. Choose."

Swallowing his fear, the commander weighed his options.

The credits were right there. Primed for the taking.

The pillar of fire immolated Zanzibardo as he lunged, Octavia removed her hands from Leon as he stood, claiming the unharmed crystal from the smouldering ashes.

"Option two then."

Striding to make his way out of the tent, a cough from his partner froze Leon in his tracks.

"Swordsman. Surely, you were not thinking to leave without acknowledging my victory? You do remember the agreed-upon terms?"

In a dry monotone, Leon spoke the words he'd agreed to should the commander attempt to kill him.

"I owe you a spa weekend. Your prowess and guile put my brutish ways to shame, truly I, Leon Knox, have seen the light. Also, don't call me Shirley."

"You ruin it! You ruin my triumph with your base pop culture references! Say it again!"

"No. I have an ultimatum to give."

Historians would one day look back on this day of unprecedented violence and bloodshed, piecing together written accounts from survivors and scared civilians to record the first human victory over the invading forces.

Seven minutes after they'd made landfall, before the mercenaries could get their feet under them Leon's voice informed them of their commander's death and he repeated his offered terms.

A conditional surrender followed- their employer's name would be provided following the surviving mercenaries' unmolested egress.

Thus, did the first engagement in the Earth Liberation War end, a decisive native victory that saw the hired mercs of the Drakeblood Zaibatsu turn tail and flee under amnesty granted to them by Leon Knox, the Stormbound Swordsman, with the understanding that they would never return to Earth.

The body of commander Zanzibardo, alongside the four squads Leon exterminated remained his under the terms he negotiated.

The historians never recorded the two conversations Leon Knox had that night that would alter his fate.