Sharia Airella is a name that few know, and almost everyone who knows the name fears it. However, Sharia is known through Nostalisk by a much simpler name. Balaika rīpara, which means Black Reaper. Currently, the feared Black Reaper is sitting in the Clark*, the Kingdom's name for the place where the criminals of the arena stay. Why is it called Clark, Sharia doesn't know nor does she care. Currently, she is dealing with another question.

How to get rid of her boredom.

When Sharia first arrived here in the arena, she wasn't bored as she had plenty to do. She meditated like the monks showed her, tested out different weapons, and fought pretty much every day. She considered her "stay" at the arena to be a "vacation" of sorts. However, that changed after years have passed. Sharia found herself being barely able to meditate due to her boredom. She needs to do something. Anything new. Sharia even considered fighting with just her claws in the arena, which is something she had done before back when her arena name was Warmonger.

But, despite the pressing matter at hand, Sharia felt relief. She had a strong feeling that her boredom will be lifted in the future, and her feelings have never been wrong, even if Sharia had wanted some of them to be.

Sharia was sitting, her back against the wall, and her weapon lodged into the ground. Normally, one would be cautious in the Clerk, especially if that someone is a threat to others. However, no one dares to attack Sharia, not anymore. Those that have...well, only a few of them are left. None of them ever came close to killing her except one person who, much to Sharia's disappointment, was hired by a noble four years ago.

'...You know, waiting for something to happen is easier said than done.' Sharia thought bitterly, her claws tapping the cold stone-brick floor beneath her in a rhythmic pattern. Today the arena had no events planned. In other words, today was an off day. Sharia and none of the other contenders in the arena would be fighting today. So, to help herself from going crazy, Sharia started to think of what will happen in the future that will free her of her boredom.

'Maybe it will be that girl.' Sharia thought, recalling how two weeks ago, the arena got a new visitor. Sharia first noticed her after feeling her gaze. Although she couldn't see her face from where she was since not only was the sun in the way and the girl wore a large hood over her face, Sharia could still tell the girl was no servant. She was too young to be one. The girl next to her wearing a typical rich noble purple and black laced dress seemed familiar to Sharia. Sharia assumed that she was the daughter of the current Archduke since, if memory serves her correctly, the Archduke has purple eyes and long black hair. Even the males have long black hair. The biggest giveaway was the skin tone of the girl. A mix between white and brown.

Surrounding the two young girls were twenty royal guards with red feathers and, even if the Archduke family is important, they won't get twenty royal guards to escort a member of their family. So either the two of them combined were pretty important to the Kingdom or King Robert was growing weaker and allowing the noble families to push him around, which Sharia hopes isn't the case. She respects the King and would hate to see him become weaker more than he already is.

Her assumption of the girl not being a servant was backed up when the girl clearly threw up. Sharia had felt a good deal of annoyance at that. If someone is disgusted by violence, then they shouldn't even exist in the first place, let alone go to the arena.

When the fake servant threw up, both the royal guards and the Archduke's daughter checked up on her, which the royal guards won't do for a simple servant. And, when the girl appeared a day later by herself with the same twenty royal guards, it was pretty clear by then that the girl wasn't a servant.

'Is she a princess? I can't say for sure but she might be Isalene, the so-called "Star" of the Kingdom. But doesn't she hate violence?'

Sharia knows that Princess Isalene hates violence since, whenever the entire royal family visits, no one dies in the arena and she isn't allowed out. The reason why she isn't allowed out is quite obvious. She wouldn't listen to the rules the people running the arena make and kill whoever her opponent is.

'Then, maybe old Grillant finally decided to get a daughter.' Sharia thought, recalling yesterday how Grillant showed up to talk to the girl. Sharia had to admit that she was pleasantly surprised when the robed girl pulled out a knife. Of course, her form was all wrong but at least she seemed willing to defend herself.

'And I could tell right away that Grillant definitely didn't want me anywhere near the girl.' Sharia thought with a chuckle that did not contain any warmth in it, her voice causing those who heard it to shudder.

'Well, now here comes a question. Should I sleep out here or go to my room?' Sharia asked herself. Since she was an honorable guest, she was given a lot of freedom, including a big room where she could store her many weapons in. Another plus of being an honorable guest was that she could kill the arena guards if they tried to do anything funny to her and any other fellow criminals or contenders without getting in trouble, which is especially handy with those few special "justice-seeking" knights. They think they were so much better than the criminals here. Well, they are, but not in the way they preach about. When Sharia ignores them or criticizes them, some of them think they can teach her a lesson. Oh, how wrong they were.

Sharia smiled recalling a memory where she impaled one young knight through his chest and lifted him into the air all while his master watched, helpless knowing that if he tried anything, he too would be killed. Sharia vividly recalled the expression on his face turn from helpless anger to despair when he realized that there was nothing he could do to her. Before he died, Sharia told him words that she has said many times,

"It's your fault for being weak. If only you were stronger would you be of any use besides cannon fodder and see the bigger picture."

Sharia remembered that the woman who almost killed her before heard those words and called her a tyrant. Sharia had nearly snapped and killed her right then and there on the spot. She tossed the body impaled on her weapon away and told the woman in the evenest voice she could muster at the time without exploding in anger, something she rarely does, the difference between her and a tyrant.

"I am a Warmonger. Someone who weeds out the weak. Tyrants* take advantage of their strength to abuse the weak. We Warmongers pity the weak, wanting them to be strong, and the only way to do that is looked down upon you weaklings who search for an easier solution. All of you are pathetic and if you can't handle cruelty then you should have never been born."

Thinking back on it, Sharia realized she should have said something different to make her point but, the past cannot be changed.

....

....

'...You know, now that I think about that girl, I have a strong feeling that she's going to be an annoyance in the future. I just hope that she doesn't annoy me too much.'

........

Princess Isalene didn't head to the arena today. It was not only an off day but, even if the arena was opened, she didn't want to risk going back the very next day after Grillant snuck up on her. So, instead, she went over to Bianca's place. She wanted to invite Marcus over too but he was busy with family matters. As usual, Isalene had to teleport there since Bianca's place was around three hundred and sixty miles* away from the palace, or at least that is what Bianca and Isalene were told.

She told Bianca she was coming over in advance so when Isalene teleported into the Archduke's teleportation chamber, Bianca was already waiting for her, wearing a simpler light purple dress from the one she wore before when she met Isalene last.

"You know, I don't get how you can teleport without feeling the least bit sick," Bianca pouted upon seeing Isalene walk out of the large stone circle used for teleportation.

"I don't get how you get sick from teleporting," Isalene countered.

"My entire family except for my uncle get a little sick from using it," Bianca pointed out.

Princess Isalene just shrugged before winking at Bianca.

"Then I guess it's just my Royal Magic*."

"Well, it's not every day that you come and visit me so, come on to my room. Mary has snacks ready and waiting,"

"Ah, how is your personal maid?" Isalene asked, leaving the teleportation room with Bianca. As the only princess of the Kingdom, she doesn't have a personal servant of any kind. The only two personal things she currently has are her own personal set of royal guards and her personal bodyguard.

"She's doing well. Ever since my little sister went to the academy, the servants, in general, are doing better."

Isalene recalled Bianca complaining about her little sister's bad habit of playing pranks on the servants and sometimes even treating them badly. Though, according to what Marcus told them, this kind of behavior is common in noble houses, and what Bianca's little sister has done is actually quite tame.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Compared to the palace, which is arguably a large and more decorated castle with most of the rooms and halls in the palace still having reinforced stone-brick walls, Bianca's home is much more colorful and lavish. It still amazes Isalene every time she sees it. The red and gold colored carpets and gold decorations around every corner. Though if someone were to ask what Princess Isalene prefers, her home design or a rich noble style, Isalene would pick her home design. To her, it feels more cozy, even if the reinforced stone-brick walls were anything but cozy.

"So, I have been-" Isalene started, too impatient to tell Bianca her plan in her room, but Bianca cut her off.

"Been visiting the arena for the past two weeks," Bianca said, catching Isalene off guard.

"U-um, yes. H-how did you know?" Isalene asked, already having a feeling why Bianca knew already.

"Your father came to my house and asked me a couple of questions and it didn't take much for him to just ask the big one."

Princess Isalene started playing with her hair while laughing nervously.

"...Sorry about that," Princess Isalene apologized in a meek voice.

"Don't be," Bianca told Isalene, shaking her head, "But, please tell me why you keep on visiting the arena. You literally threw up last time because you saw someone die."

Princess Isalene wanted to point out that it was really meeting Cruel Knight's eyes after what he-she did but realized that for the past two weeks she has been seeing similar cases and has either almost threw up or has.

"I...I got curious," Isalene admitted. Bianca was about to ask Isalene to explain when the two friends arrived at the door leading to Bianca's room.

Waiting outside the door was Bianca's personal maid, Mary. She is a Terphin*, and like other members of the Terphin race, she had long purple and black wavy hair, brown skin, sharp teeth, and glittering blue eyes that resembled jewels.

"The snacks and tea is waiting inside your room, Young Mistress," Mary informed Bianca, bowing. Bianca nodded and Mary stood up, her eyes flashing to Isalene.

"Greetings, Kingdom's Star," Mary greeted, bowing again.

"Greetings to you too!" Isalene said, not having a bit of nobility in her response. While one could say that Isalene has never been taught how "proper" manners for someone her rank, Princess Isalene has been taught. It's just that, Isalene is just Isalene.

"Can you please wait outside?" Bianca asked Mary even though she didn't have to ask Mary at all.

"Yes, Young Mistress," Mary said, bowing again before standing up and opening the door for the two girls to enter. Once they did, the door closed behind them.

If Princess Isalene had to describe Bianca's room in one word, it would be purple. In two words it would be very purple. The furniture in the room wasn't as high quality as Isalene's room but the room itself was more decked out, the color scheme being all sorts of shades of purple and black. In the middle of the room in front of Bianca's bed was a silver tray with different kinds of fancy but small food platters and six kinds of tea, four being flavors that Bianca and Isalene like and two being flavors they haven't tried before. Bianca and Isalene first poured themselves tea that they liked first. They normally try out the new tea first but, since they had something important to talk about, they decided to drink something they like.

"So, care to explain?" Bianca asked once both of them had a cup of tea in their hands.

"Well, you know Warmonger, right?" Isalene asked.

"...You mean the insult or the title?" Bianca asked back, recalling the two ways the term warmonger was used.

"The title."

Bianca was silent before she shook her head.

"The Kingdom Faction doesn't have a Warmonger. If they did, they would definitely be trying to start a war or something," Bianca told Isalene, wondering why she was bringing up the name.

"Wait, I meant Cruel Knight. My bad," Isalene said with a sheepish smile.

Bianca frowned upon hearing the name.

'Why do I have a bad feeling about this?'

"What about him?" Bianca asked, bringing her cup of tea to her mouth and taking a sip.

"Well, I couldn't get them out of my head so-" Isalene started but was cut off by Bianca spitting out the tea in her mouth.

"Y-you went back for him!" Bianca asked in disbelief.

"W-well, not for her but really to try and understand her," Isalene explained.

"Her!? You said her, right?" Bianca asked, putting down her cup of tea less she accidentally spills it, "You do know that means she is a criminal, right? No females are allowed into the arena unless they are criminals."

"I-I know-" Princess Isalene started but Bianca cut her off.

"You knew!?" Bianca asked, not believing her ears.

"I know it sounds bad but...I just can't get her out of my head. I just have to know more about her. You weren't there so you missed it but there is so much more to her than what you might think."

Bianca shook her head and let out a sigh.

'If anyone were to just listen to that sentence right there they would get the wrong idea.'

Bianca knew full well the weakness that Isalene has and knows that, even as her best friend, there is nothing she can do to change it. Still, to think that her weakness would lead to this...Bianca has no words for it.

........

Princess Isalene was planning on breaking the news to her father over dinner. This week her father has been busy with work. Isalene tried to learn what was going on but all she knew was that there was a problem with the Mackroles and trade. So, her father took the time to wind down during dinner. Now, Isalene was about to ask him something stressful during his winding down time. Because of that, Isalene was hesitating. She could ask him tonight but she may not see him again tonight. She could try tomorrow but chances are is that he is going to be busy again tomorrow too. Now seems like the best time. What kept making what Isalene was about to do worse was the supportive glances her father kept giving her, knowing that she was nervous about something. She knows her father isn't trying to stress her out but the supporting glances he gives her is only making her worse. She didn't want to see his smile fade.

'I'm going to have to tell him here. Come on, Isalene! Be brave or else you won't ever learn about the Warmonger!'

Isalene let out a small sigh, prepping herself silently. She opened her mouth to speak, closed it, then opened it again. However, before she could speak, her father beat her to it.

"Isalene, what's wrong? You look worried."

Isalene closed her mouth, thankful that her father took action first, and started pondering how to ask her father about making a Warmonger her personal guard. Her father most definitely knows about Warmonger. How could he not? He was still king during the Great Wars and, since Sharia is in prison for prolonging a war, he would have been the one to put her in jail. He probably has a strong grudge against her too. Still, Isalene won't give up! She is determined! Besides, her curiosity won't allow her to. So, she took a deep breath, looked her father right in the eyes, and told him,

"I have chosen who I want to be my personal guard, but they aren't on the list."

Isalene's father seemed surprised but not angry, which was a good thing for her. Isalene wondered how long that will last.

"Oh. Well, who is it? Can they fight well?" King Robert asked, putting down his fork and knife.

"Yes! I've watched them for a while now just to be sure. They are already better than all the knights you gave me on the list," Isalene confirmed, practically jumping in her seat out of excitement.

The King and Queen met each other's eyes for a moment.

"Say, what's this man's name?" Isalene's mother asked, raising an eyebrow while King Robert took a sip of coffee.

"Her name is Warmonger."

The moment Isalene said that name, her father spit out the coffee he was drinking. Her mother and two older brothers stared at the King, shocked. Isalene had a feeling none of them but her father knew who Warmonger was.

"W-Warmonger...The Warmonger with the Varasikara*?" King Robert asked once he recovered from his slight coughing fit.

"The what?" Isalene asked. She has never heard of that before.

"The weapon that can transform into a halberd."

"Oh! So that's what her sword is called," Isalene said, remembering how Warmonger's weapon transformed.

Robert put a hand on his head and started muttering to himself, causing his wife to stand up and walk over to him.

"Honey, what is going on? Who is Warmonger?" She asked in a slightly panicked voice, crouching down next to King Robert.

"Warmonger is a old friend of mine...or a current one I guess. She's a war criminal who has a horrible personality and loves violence," King Robert explained, though his voice sounded a little off.

Princess Isalene blinked in surprise. Did she just hear her father call Sharia an old friend? Before she could ask, her mother whirled around and met Isalene's determined eyes.

"You want that person to be your new personal guard!?"

Isalene only nodded. Everyone was surprised at that. Normally, when Princess Isalene was getting yelled at or sternly talked to she would become meek. This time, however, she wasn't meek. They could sense the determination within her.

"Well, I forbid it." Isalene's mother told her.

"B-but father hasn't told you everything about her, right father?" Isalene pointed out in a rather panicked tone, realizing she was losing this. Her father let out a sigh but talked anyway.

"Sharia The Warmonger is a war hero. If it wasn't for her and her master, we would have been defeated by the Union. She is also loyal to the Kingdom and, without a doubt, the best warrior the Kingdom has ever had. While she isn't a Wartorn*, she is close."

Isalene decided to speak up, hoping to convince her parents.

"I can't get her out of my head. I need to know more about her and the only way to do that is to get her as my personal guard."

King Robert shook his head. His daughter's voice was full of determination and he knew that once her curiosity gets the better of her, it is better to let it go than try and resist it. Besides, he can't kill Sharia. No. She was far too valuable. Well, that and her master can pretty much single-handedly destroy the Kingdom if she wants to. You don't earn the title of Apostle Of War by doing nothing, even if it is self-given. The upside of giving in to Isalene is that he might be able to make sure Sharia stays loyal to the Kingdom...but is that really worth risking his daughter for?

He looked up and met Isalene's determined unwavering gaze before letting out a sigh.

"Let me talk it over with your mother and my advisor."

Isalene felt her eyes go wide and she let out a happy shrill noise, barely able to hold in her excitement.

'I've Done It!'

________

Nearby, Sharia shivered for some reason. She gripped the hilt of her weapon and scanned the darkness of the Clark. For some reason, the feeling from before had come back even stronger.

Sharia let out a sigh and, after looking around to make sure she wasn't in any danger, closed her eyes.

'Why do I feel like tomorrow is going to be the start of something annoying?'

Clark: The waiting/resting area, generally used by criminals, in an arena. The name is common in the Kingdom Faction.

Tyrants: Before the Warmongers, there were the Tyrants. Ruling without mercy and ruthless, not caring about the people to achieve their goals. Their fall is what created the Warmongers. Some people point out that the line between being a Tyrant and a Warmonger is faded but one should never call a Warmonger a Tyrant. They'll be lucky if their death is quick.

Royal Magic: Magic that the rulers of Factions have. Not everyone has it since not every ruler is of "royal blood", but most do. It makes their magic much more powerful and, as such, makes fighting them with magic suicidal.

Terphin: A race that is somewhat related to demons. They were originally from the Southwest and are related to the Shark demi-humans. They are not a Beastkin.

Varasikara: This weapon was created by Ai, the self-proclaimed Apostle Of War. It was originally made for her disciple, Sharia, though other Warseekers use varasikaras now. It resembles a large greatsword with a thick yet sharp blade. Either through a switch or by magic, the weapon's hilt will open up and the varasikara will transform, a long staff will come out with an axe at one end of the staff and a scythe on the other, closely resembling the varatharasata that was originally made first. They weigh less than the varatharasata but still weigh heavier than a lot of weapons. Currently, Sharia still wields the first varasikara. The name means Warthrist.