It had been over a week since the pathways were decided, and the final preparations were underway. The numbers being assembled continued to increase as the remaining minor lords and mercenary companies arrived, bringing the total crusader force closer to one hundred thousand.

A large portion of the troops consisted of peasant conscripts or fervent followers of the Theocracy, all of whom were currently practising thrusting spears or marching in formation. It spoke to how unprepared many of the lords were when the banners were called for.

“Quite a sight,” Andglang commented, envisioning a unified force emerging before him.

“Indeed, sir,” Franc replied, watching with a concealed grimace as a few boys failed to hit a stationary dummy with a pole. Compared to Andglang, he didn’t feel confidence welling up within him.

“Lord Bishop, we are set to begin our orientation for the officers,” the Inquisitorial representative stated, having previously been ordered by Andglang to speak aloud. The Inquisitor, alongside her Paladin colleague, had even removed their masks to reveal their faces. Franc had loudly praised the gods when he first saw her beauty.

“We would be delighted if you’d escort us, my lady,” Franc said, gifting her his best smile. She ignored him, focusing her gaze on Andglang.

“Of course, Lud-Lady Inquisitor.” Franc made a conscious effort to not bring up Andglang’s mistake, let alone that he always made the same error regarding the Inquisitor and Paladin. Franc’s current best guess was that the boy was catching himself almost saying their names. Who they might be, if his assumption to their actual names was correct, worried him even more.

“Ah, Lord Boss,” Jarnvidr called out, approaching the group as they made their way through the camp. Franc could see the scowl on the lady Inquisitor’s face at the casual manner Jarnvidr had addressed the young Bishop.

“Jarnvidr, a pleasure to see you. Are you on the way to the orientation?”

“I’m running it. Only officer here who has done more than two crusades,” he replied with a grin.

“How many have you done, i-if I may be so bold as to ask?”

Jarnvidr looked down at the starry-eyed Bishop. Since the initial meeting to decide the pathways, Andglang had been like a schoolboy asking for stories of Jarnvidr’s adventures.

“This will be my third one. Fourth, if you include my first job helping a caravan with supplies for the sixth crusade.”

“A-and is it true you’ve never been hurt in battle?”

Jarnvidr paused midstep for a moment before bursting out laughing.

“Bwuhahahahaha! Forgive me… but I have fought on countless battlefields. Do they really say I’ve never been hurt?”

Andglang nodded, with Franc right behind him chuckling. Both had grown up with stories of the man and his exploits.

“Let me tell you. There are some scary mother-ahem… Some scary people up there. I even once had a spear go right through my chest,” he explained, thrusting a thumb to where it likely pieced. “Last I heard, the bastard who did it is the Dark Lady’s chief enforcer nowadays.”

“Wait… you faced Mera-Sae?” Franc asked, surprised to learn that Jarnvidr had faced the ‘Butcher of the Battlefield’ and lived. The man had a reputation for going around to skewer survivors after the battle had ended.

“Yeah. Not a bad guy when he’s not poking holes in you.”

“So, how tough was he?” Andglang asked, looking even more enraptured.

“That can wait. The orientation will cover folks like him anyways.”

Entering a tent in the corner of the camp, they could see a few dozen Nobles, all decked out in finery that made it look like they were going to see a theatre troupe rather than the theatre of war. Ignoring the stares directed their way, Franc guided Andglang to a private corner near the other Over-commanders, while Jarnvidr continued up onto a stage that had been prepared.

Jarnvidr began clapping his massive hands together to gather the crowd’s attention. “Alright, with the boss here, we can begin.”

“Excuse me, why is a subhuman addressing us?” one of the assembled Nobles asked, looking at Jarnvidr with disgust before turning a questioning gaze to Andglang. Freezing like prey under the cold stares of the Nobles, he stammered, “W-well… t-that is because… I m-mean it is simply t-the case that… Lord Jarnvidr is truly…”

“You dare insult one of the chosen commanders of the crusade!” Admiral Rowtond roared, rescuing the floundering Bishop. “That man has served in more battles than you’ve had hot dinners. Show him the respect he deserves!” Under the imperious gaze of the Admiral, the Noble clicked his tongue, lowering his head reluctantly.

“I humbly retract my statement.”

“Ok, we all good? Does anyone else wish to address my status? No? Good, now we can actually get on with this. The first thing we need to address is the deck of fifty-two.”

“The bounties?” Glitnir asked, a hungry gleam growing in his eyes.

“Yes sir, the bounties,” Jarnvidr answered with an exhausted sigh. “For those of you who haven't stepped north of the Seraphim walls, they are a list of fifty-two individuals you must never face in battle.”

“I-if they are not meant to be fought, then why does the Theocracy place bounties on them?!” Glitnir demanded, shock plastered on his face.

“A very valid point, sir. Sir Paladin or Lady Inquisitor, would you be so kind as to answer my employer's question?”

The two glared at each other before the Paladin finally lost whatever unspoken discussion they were having and stepped up on stage.

“Yes, it is true they have substantial bounties. But these are to be claimed only by competent individuals.”

A Noble in armour with a floral design indignantly screeched, standing up. “Are you saying we are all fools?!”

“Yes,” the Paladin flatly replied, stunning many in the tent.

“You are all such that I no longer wonder if the gods have a sense of humour. Regardless, the deck contains people even I would have trouble facing without injury.”

This admission sent a stir through the Nobles. Paladins were famed for being the pinnacle of human combatants, said to be able to fight a legion and win. For them to say they would have trouble facing these figures told them more than enough.

Another Noble tentatively raised his hand. “So what do we do if we encounter one of them, then?”

“Three options. One, prove you are a fool and face them. Two, engage them and send for an officer with a badge that can face them. Finally, run with your tail between your legs.”

“And these badge officers are?” the Noble pressed.

“They are individuals me and my colleague have assessed as competent fighters. The majority of the commanders are badge holders,” the Paladin explained, gesturing towards Franc. In response, he wiggled the badge the duo had given him.

“Sir Franc there, for instance, would be capable of facing the deck numbers. Two if they are low numbers.” A smattering of applause spread around the tent.

“Though, the only ones here who could hope to combat a face card would be me, my colleague from the Inquisition, and sir Jarnvidr,” he explained, uttering the name with disdain.

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“What about a Sinful Lord?”

“Should they be a combat focus Sinful Lord, then even a badge holder will die a dog's death.” The response caused several faces pale.

“If they are so dangerous, why do they not send them to face us and eliminate us quickly?”

He just narrowed his eyes at the Noble asking the question.

“Contrary to what your wet nurses no doubt taught you, the Dark Continent is not as hegemonic as you believe it to be. There are many factions, and the current iteration of the deck aids Crozonia in keeping her rule. Tell me, If you had many untrustworthy backstabbing advisors behind you, would you send your bodyguards to the gates the second an enemy showed?”

The Noble shook their head.

“Of course not. Now please think before you speak. The gods granted us wisdom, and I highly recommend you use it.” Without another word, he left the stage and stood in the corner of the tent, seemingly seething over being forced to explain such information to those present.

Returning to the stage again, Jarnvidr continued his speech. “Now that’s been mostly handled. I will explain-” Suddenly drawing his sword, he rushed out of the tent agitating several people in the tent.

“What is going on?” Andglang asked in a panic as both the Inquisitor and the Paladin ushered him out of the tent and towards the castle.

“Well now…. Someone interesting has arrived,” Agora muttered, walking up alongside Franc as the pair looked out the tent's entrance.

“‘Interesting’ would probably not be a word I’d use,” Franc replied, feeling a cold sweat on his back. Those in the tent sensitive enough felt a daunting soul aura suddenly appear in the middle of the camp, the kind of aura that monsters that could slaughter whole towns would give off.

“Well, I suppose we should head out and find what it is,” Agora declared, rushing out of the tent with Franc close behind her. Arriving in the central square of the camp, the pair found a large number of soldiers standing in formation with their spears pointed at the stranger Jarnvidr currently had his sword against.

“Who are you?” Jarnvidr demanded. The stranger, sitting on a box reading a book, ignored the weapon. They could see he was wearing a simple suit, the hand holding the book had three mechanical fingers.

“I said: who are you?!”

“Oh, sorry, was getting to a good bit,” the stranger replied, as he looked up at Jarnvidr. “Wow, big bastard, ain’t yah?”

Finally seeing his face, the three arrayed immediately around him recoiled. Alongside the names and details of the deck of fifty-two came sketches of the members.

“The Jack of Diamonds,” Agora whispered under her breath, drawing one of her swords.

“I’m a face card now? Last I heard, I was only Seven of Clubs?” The stranger replied, amused at their reaction.

“Why are you here?” Jarnvidr demanded, pressing the blade directly to his neck.

“Was just in the neighbourhood,” he replied with a shrug.

“I will not let you harm these people!”

“Nor am I here to do such a thing. I was just taking a stroll, and wouldn’t you know it, I found what looks like a fun festival.”

“Franc, go to Lokrium. He has restraints that can hold him,” Jarnvidr ordered, not taking his eyes off the man. “Now answer me!”

“Ok, glibness aside. I have come to deliver an ultimatum to your commanding officer.”

“The Bishop?” Agora asked before immediately regretting it.

“So it’s a Bishop leading this? How very interesting,” the man muttered with a smirk.

“Do you really think we will let you near him?” Agora snarled the point of her sword held towards him.

“No… I suppose I was being naive. Old Man Envy told me you lot would be bad hosts. Considering you didn’t go to kill me outright though, I suppose this is the best we can hope for.”

“So, the message?” Jarnvidr pressed.

“Huh? Oh yeah…The Ultimatum is such. ‘Any mortal who crosses the border shall not return alive. If you cross the Seraphim Walls, we shall not spare a single one of your forces. We shall slaughter you all like animals.’” He gave the message in such a casual tone he may as well have been mentioning the weather.

“And you expect to be permitted to leave after such a threat?” Agora asked, shocked at the audacity he was displaying.

“Well, we could fight it out right now. I imagine though such a battle would cause widespread death and destroy what morale you do have.”

Jarnvidr followed his gaze around at the nervous-looking soldiers, their spears in a circle facing the man. He could see clearly how a number of them were already shaking.

“Do you swear to go in peace?” The man nodded.

“I will swear on my baby girls that I will not cause any harm to anyone on this side of the Seraphim Walls.”

“Then go… Clear a path and let him go!” Jarnvidr barked at the soldiers who were all too ready to get out of the way.

“Are you sure you can do that?” Agora asked, watching as The Jack of Diamonds strolled away.

“Miss Agora… let me tell you this… I have only felt fear against a few figures in my life. The first was when I came face to face with Apophis, the previous Dark Lord. The second was Mera-Sae when he plunged his spear through my chest. When I say this, let me make it perfectly clear; that boy scared me.”

“I-I-I have the manacles!” Franc wheezed between heaved pants, having run back as fast as his legs would carry him. Looking around, he saw a distinctly missing figure.

“Where is he?”

“I let him go. He delivered his message. We do not harm messengers.”

“Ah… good… I did not fancy dying today,” Franc replied, letting out a relieved sigh as he collapsed on the ground. Agora fell near him, having not noticed how tense she had become.

“So that is a face card?” Agora muttered.

—------------------------

With the chaos settled down the Nobles had assembled, this time in the castle All of them no longer feeling safe anywhere, not located behind thick stone walls. Jarnvidr was currently kneeling on the floor in front of Andglang. Despite this, he still towered over the boy.

“So you let him go?”

“Yes,” Jarnvidr replied with a nod. Cries of ‘coward’ echoed around the hall.

“Sir Jarnvidr… why did you do such a thing?” Mithgarth asked, having been absent from the camp while the whole event had gone down. He was especially disappointed as the man who had arrived uninvited was the very sort he wished to test his magic against.

“That man was the Jack of Diamonds. Lord Guntherian. He is an apprentice of Lord Sloth and is the sort of threat best faced when not surrounded by soldiers.” The explanation sent a wave of murmurs through the crowd. The Sinful Lord of Sloth was famous for being the father of arcane spellcasting. It was said by many he was unparalleled even today.

“Jarnvidr! You have disgraced me! We could’ve claimed his bounty!”

“Silence! The Bishop is still talking,” the Paladin snarled, causing Gltinir to recoil.

“If I had fought him, I could have possibly defeated him, but I would have likely died in the process. Not to mention the soldiers in the camp.”

“So y-you wished to avoid a c-clash? I thought you said you wish to die a glorious death in battle?” Andlglang asked, looking worried.

“I do… but a death at the expense of my comrades is not glorious. Fighting him and dying would bring me no glory.”

“Why did you not simply chain him up?” A Noble in the crowd cried out.

“All due respect. The man walked right into our camp unopposed. From the little information I know of him, he would likely cause more trouble if we had captured him.”

Andglang nodded, recognising it may have been the best option to let the man go considering the threat he posed. What was most concerning was that he had passed all their security and moved unopposed.

“Lud-Lady Inquisitor, how did he get in?” Andglang asked, turning to the woman.

“It seems the fault lies with the guard only confirming if the mortals are human. We have many merchants and supply wagons coming in. It was the simplest check they could implement.”

“So he is a human?” Andglang asked in surprise.

“Yes, sir, many humans have been deceived by the denizens of the Dark Continent to turn their backs on the light of the Theocracy; he is one such person.”

“I see… we will need to be stricter with our s-security from now on. Can you see to that Lud-Lady Inquisitor?” The woman’s only response was a nod.

“If our enemies are all like that man, then I would like to humbly withdraw my participation,” a Noble from the crowd called out. “I would as well!!!” “and me!” Soon more and more voices were crying out in fear.

“Silence!” Admiral Rowtond roared with such a deep bass it rumbled the ground around them. “This is what that fiend likely wanted; to divide us and get many to turn tail and flee. Tell me, are you all cowards who would run at the first sign of an enemy?”

“I am not a coward!” Again, more voices began to affirm their bravery than calling to turn tail.

“May I speak, sir?” Jarnvidr asked, Andglang nodding in response.

“Listen well. That man was a face card of the deck of fifty-two. He is by no means an example of the might of the common soldiers. Make no mistake, they will still be strong as the Dark Continent fields a professional army. But with our numbers, we can overwhelm them and claim victory.”

A cheer rose from the crowd as the Nobles who till moments ago had been brimming with fear now positively oozed confidence. Knowing that monster was an exception was just what they needed to hear. With the noise as cover, Andglang leant in close to Jarnvidr’s ear.

“Be honest, Jarnvidr… if you fought, who would’ve won?”

“I don't know, but I would have definitely died. Whether I brought him with me is another thing entirely,” Jarnvidr whispered back.