Fate: Kill

Chapter 11

It was a will.
Amantra.
E

nergy swelled from within him like an expanding balloon, suffusing every inch of his skin until a faint thrum began to emanate within the air.
The scouts before him were separated into different groups, those loyal, and those whose attachments were merely hanging by a thread. He could tell such things at a glance simply from their equipment.
Those loyal wore full pieces of leather armour and were well equipped with weapons and tools for reconnaissance. The rest in comparison were only wearing light tunics that they'd packed from their impoverished families.
Their faces, their breathing, their uneasiness.
His eyes captured it all.
No matter how much he wished to avoid taking lives, it always came down to the same conclusion.
Would there ever be an option to save everyone?
Could he ever find such an answer?
At least in this case, there was nothing else that he could do.
His body released a shudder, before he resolved himself.
Conceptualize, and give form.
His was a magic whose strength was not restricted by the limitations of output or skill, but of imagination and creativity.
A forge and a Blacksmith.
If he did not have a suitable weapon at hand, he would create it.
Fifteen-Hundred.
A Thousand Meters.
Not once did he take his attention off of the enemy.
The scouts were still quite far, but they did not understand that they had already come dangerously close.
A hand extended outward, fingers curling upon an illusory frame.
A Black Bow. A Long Bow.
One of his most familiar weapons.
Long Distance Tactical Sniping.
What he was going to do right now was no different from the military terms that he'd learned from the twenty-first century.
Arrows.
What was a bow without arrows?
Ammunition decided everything, and his was a bow that did not fire ordinary rounds.
"Trace, On."
His Magic Circuits thrummed from within him, congregating upon the center of his palm. Swords manifested in the air one by one, their splendor and might radiating outwards with a pressure beyond common understanding and bordering on Mythic.
Noble Phantasms, Crystalized Legends.
Many were ordinary, but most possessed distinct qualities. Several imposing, and two Demonic.
Akame who was watching from the side, subconsciously inched backwards, her pupils dilated.
This was the power of magic, the strength of a Wizard.
One.
Two.
Six.
Nine.
Teigu were being made on a whim.
It was sobering. What she thought to have had been impossible, or beyond anyone's means was being accomplished right before her. It was even more difficult to swallow for Leone who was watching in the background.
Just looking at the swords was enough for anyone to understand that they weren't ordinary. One had such feral bloodlust, that it was if she could see the phantom image of a hound howling in the open plains. The other was entirely twisted, possessing an energy that would sooner damn a soul into hell rather than save it.
Her breathing was erratic, and she was hardly making an effort to conceal herself anymore. If not for the dense upper canopy of the tree branches, she would have had definitely been exposed. "…"
Swords themselves were not meant to be fired from a bow.
They had to be mended.
Twist, and bend.
Alter.
He willed them to change shape, metal curling and stretching until it grew thin and stream-like. A projectile that would pierce through the hardest of armour.
Wind began to buffet from beneath him, a vortex that first sprung from the soles of his feet up all the way to his chest upon the full release of his stored magical energy. The amount of magic that he could have on hand was limited, therefore, he had to be conservative. Only use what was necessary.
He exhaled, a dull shimmer of blue manifesting over his bronze-coloured eyes.
Set.
Lock.
Aim.
The bow in his hands gradually notched, the bow straining at the edges, as the string itself shone with a metallic luster.
His muscles tensed, veins popping up over his arms as he pulled back and loaded the first 'Arrow.'
It was as if time had stopped, his back straightening, and expression growing cold.
Hawk Eye.
To fully grasp one's situation and the abilities of the enemy.
There would be no escape.
Lead them, gather them in one place.
His fingers released the string of his bow.
A gale the likes of which had never been seen before erupted around him. Akame was forced to shield her eyes, the distant trees and foliage swaying uncontrollably as a projectile of man was let loose.
Leone felt her mouth instantly dry.
It was like a star was streaking across the sky, leaving behind a trail of destruction wherever it went. The shockwave itself was defining due to her close proximity, and it almost sounded as if a beast was roaring under the composed disposition of the shooter.
A realm of folklore. A Fable.
Leone couldn't help but think of it.
Back before the Empire had its breakthroughs in technology and development, when the bow and arrow reigned supreme as the strongest long-distance weapon, there were tales of experts. They who had traversed the realm of human limitation to create miracles. Swordsmen, Lancers, Shielders, and Archers creating feats beyond the scope of what a mere sword, spear, shield, or bow could do.
They were hailed as prodigies.
Assets of the Empire and the other Nations that directly correlated to a country's strength as told in stories.
Right now, she couldn't help but think of those myths while looking at the projectile sailing through the air.
The Arrow of a Hunter.
A Marksman's Fang.
The scouts ahead could harldy understand what was happening until it was too late.
When the 'Arrow' struck, it struck with a furor that cratered the ground.
There was no explosion, no definite sound, but the eeriness in suddenly seeing a comrade impaled through the chest and pinned to the ground was terrifying.
They began to run and panic in confusion.
This was exactly what Shirou wanted.
In rapid succession, he took three more 'Arrows' and unleashed them over the distant enemies.
He was hording them, preventing them from spreading too thin.
It was like he was in control of everything. That was the illusion that Leone could see and it was numbing when she recalled that this was the very same man that's she'd nearly smothered to death by accident.
She was trembling.
This kind of power was unheard of.
Worse, something else was about to happen.
Amidst the group of scouts, one of them was clearly beginning to direct orders and quell the panic that Shirou had caused. At the same time though, this leader was putting himself in the safest place possible to avoid death. The others around, were nothing more than meat shields.
Shirou's eyes narrowed in an instant.
He had to stop the enemy from rallying, and as good as his vision was, it was hard to keep track of a single target when one hid behind an entire group of people.
Fine then.
It would still do no good.
In every unit, scouts or otherwise, there was always a leading figure, and Shirou understood that he'd already found that individual.
No amount of hiding was going to change anything.
He loaded one of the two demonic swords over his bow.
It smelled the blood of the battle, the violence.
A red luster surrounded it almost like a flame.
It was pitch-black, the kind only found at the darkest depths of an abyss.
It would find its target.
"Hrunting," he called out its name, a surge of power spread outwards at the beckoning.
Howl.
Howl once more, and stride across the swaying of the reeds.
A Magic Bullet.
The Hound of the Red Plains.
It was a beam of red light so fast that one would miss it if they had so much as even blinked. A ripple formed in the air composed of numerous waves from where Hrunting had been shot, dissipating outwards after basking the vicinity in a suffocating bloodlust.
It would not stop.
It would not tire.
Leone instinctively felt that as soon as that 'Arrow' was shot, there would be no dodging. It would relentlessly bite at the heels until its target was met and torn apart. Even Akame had to look twice and consider the prospects of evading such an attack.
Even then, it moved at a speed that was beyond the capabilities of normal mortals to dodge.
It arrived in an instant, bypassing all of the people in front of it to reach its sole target. The fact that none could stop it even if they wanted to was despairing. The leading individual himself tried to hide behind the bodies of his comrades, but even then, when there was no way to bypass an obstacle, Hrunting pierced right through.
"How tyrannical." Leone muttered under her breath. "There's no way out."
The leader died with six others stabbed to death by a single arrow in front of him.
The scouts without a leader began to panic and once again move to the rhythm of the fired 'arrows.'
Eventually, the majority of them grouped up, and by then, it was practically over.
The remaining scouts that were still alive after the initial assault were staring up into the air in the direction of the steel walls. Reality itself seemed to be distorting and twisting into a vortex that was inconceivable.
They began to tremble.
"T-That's not human," one of them stuttered out in helplessness.
They could see it from where they were standing.
A black light whose glow was soon shifting into a violent crimson and blue.
The area was eerily silent. Even the sound of the animals and forest ceased.
A pregnant pause.
The Empire. Wakoku. The Revolutionary Army.
"What are we facing here?"
Magic.
A power that none of them knew, or had ever seen.
It was daunting.
A Core Twisted in Madness.
The Spiraled Sword of the Rainbow.
"Caladbolg."
The voice that traversed the air was hardly a whisper. No more than a simple mutter that could not have had been heard unless one was listening intently, yet it rung with a harrowing resonance.
The light in Leone's eyes died as she felt the explosion even from where she was standing. This kind of power, this kind of destruction, what was it doing in the hands of a single person?
She felt her own vision swimming, but she couldn't dispel the feelings of helplessness and despair that the scouts must have had felt before their deaths.
It was too much.
W-What if there was more than just one person with that kind of ability in Calla? The thought was nerve wracking.
She swallowed before going still.
There was no way that she could go up there now even if Akame was there.
She had no idea what kind of personality Shirou had, and had only seen the resoluteness in hiss eyes as he killed hundreds in an instant.
He was dangerous.
Far more dangerous than any danger beast or human that she'd ever met.
She pursed her lips while looking back outwards.
It was a plume of smoke, ashes, flame, and debris that stretched towards the very heavens in the skies. Perhaps only the people in Calla would not notice due to the height of the walls, but such a scene could be seen for miles on out.
It was a warning.
The rest of the scouts that hadn't been fully committed to their task stared numbly not that much farther away from those that died.
Without any order or discussion, they fled as if in the presence of a monster.
Up on the wall, Shirou felt himself start to stagger, but Akame was there to support him. It was always like this after using his magecraft. Unless he had a store of Danger Beasts bones which he could extract magical reserves from, the feeling of emptiness within him was difficult to bear.
Akame only thought it natural that such a power came with repercussions. She had become accustomed to his abilities already. It made it easier for her that she categorized him as 'Wizard' and simply didn't think about anything else. Of course, she didn't understand the details, but with the remains of the Danger Beasts that Shirou now had on hand thanks to the Hunting teams and previous battle, Shirou soon stabilized himself.
Getting back onto his own feet, Shirou watched as the rest of the scouts ran away. Most were injured from shrapnel and loose rock, and an unlucky few that had been too close to Caladbolg's blast had their ear drums ruptured.
He didn't take any action to snipe them.
"You're letting them get away again?" Akame asked dryly.
From an assassin's perspective, his actions looked entirely foolish, bordering on irrational, and he could clearly see the way Akame's hand was steadily making its way towards her sword's sheath. Her lips were thinned, and her eyes narrowed, as if assessing where it was that she should strike first.
Her breathing was also growing increasingly even, her muscles in her legs and arms tensing as her body inclined forward into a crouch.
Letting the enemy get away was never advised, more so if they were scouts.
It was only necessary.
Twenty Seconds.
She could arrive at that battlefield in less than twenty seconds if she moved now.
And yet, he would not let her,
"Don't Akame," he stopped her before she could move into action.
He didn't think that she realized it herself, but after years of living a life as an assassin, there were some things that her body was doing subconsciously even without her mind willing it to do so.
She was a person who'd already seen and experienced enough death.
And yet, there was more to life than just killing and surviving.
He placed a hand on her shoulder, and did not let go.
"Huh?" A sound of confusion involuntarily escaped her mouth.
"It's enough. You've done enough Akame," his voice was tired, almost weary.
She was staring at him as if she was looking at an idiot, but there was a light in her eyes that seemed to be utterly confused. That light was innocence. Perhaps in another time and in another life, she could have had just been an ordinary girl more worried about her appearance and love-life rather than a killer.
You aren't a monster.
You aren't just a murderer.
You too are human.
He wouldn't allow her to dig herself into a deeper hole.
"There's no need to spill blood any further," he insisted, making sure that she understood him and knew that he was being entirely serious.
She sucked in a breath, and shrugged off his hand from her shoulder.
"You're unreasonable," she said bluntly. "Do you know that sometimes mercy is only met by treachery?"
The people that were allowed to live, they would no doubt come back as enemies.
How could Shirou not know what Akame was talking about? He'd experienced such a situation first hand in his past life while working as a hired mercenary. He let a group of enemies live, only for them to come back and harm another group of allies. It was one of the many hardships that he endured which soon aided to disillusion him to the prospect of saving everyone.
Yet still, this time was different.
"You may be right, Akame, but do you think that the scouts are working of their own volition?"
Were they truly loyal, or did the circumstances merely force them to obey the commands of those in power?
His past experience in showing mercy was based on a group of people who had a purpose and drive that death could not dissuade them from carrying out. Compared to people who were only working to feed their families and friends, the two were distinctly different.
There was no point in needlessly killing. That wasn't who he was.
"…" Akame didn't answer.
She knew the circumstances of the lower and mid class citizens of the Empire, and therefore, she had no definite rebuttal.
It reflected the fact that Akame was a good girl.
She wasn't meant to be a killer.
If one looked at the way Akame regarded those that she cared about like her friends, then it was clear to see that she wasn't suited for the cold and callous persona her profession required. Deluding herself into believing that she must always kill, was in itself an action to protect her mind from breaking.
He didn't want to see her sink herself any further than she already had. By then she would drown, and he'd have no idea if she would ever be able to extricate herself from that kind of life.
The blood. The violence. The retribution.
Leave those sorts of things to him.
He whose hands had already been dyed so red that no amount of washing could ever clean them.
Metal etched or bent to the point of failure, yet still holding strong. A black that no amount of colour would change.
He was the Hero of Wrought Iron.
No matter how many times his own ideals would harm him, he would never stop persisting.
That was why,
"Trust me," he spoke to Akame while staring her in the eyes. Just be yourself. Don't taint yourself any further.
Akame did not know to react other than to purse her lips.
This fool.
This utter fool.
Her expression was wavering, but in the end, she relented with a tired sigh.
"You'll regret this." She said, releasing the grip that she had on her sword's hilt.
He grinned.
"To regret or not to regret, that's for me to decide isn't it? And I choose to believe in the good of the people. This world is not entirely corrupted."
She stared at him with an unreadable expression.
A part of her was beginning to wonder how different the Empire would have had been if someone like Shirou had been made the Emperor.
She shut her mouth and didn't say anything else to deny Shirou's words.
Even if she didn't want to admit anything, in this instance, his persistence had already defeated her.
"Fine then, I'm going," she said before leaving in a hurry back in the direction of Calla. Her feet pushed off of the steel walls and before Shirou could say anything else, she was gone.
It was almost as if she was panicked.
A part of her felt that if she stayed by Shirou's side any longer, her life's perspectives would undoubtably change. She didn't know if she wanted that, so she had left in a fluster, despite her face being expressionless.
She really wasn't used to this feeling.
Shirou didn't explicitly say it, but his actions could basically be inferred as him trying to limit her from killing.
And yet, other than killing, what other purpose could she serve?
There was no efficiency in being useless.
The answer to her question would not be answered so easily, more so with how distracted she quickly became when her path was obstructed.
Due to her carelessness, she hadn't even noticed when a figure had moved to bar her way until it was too late to avoid a confrontation.
Forest surrounded the entire area, trees and foliage blocking visibility. Therefore, not even Shirou could find the exact location unless Akame made some kind of noise, but she wasn't going to.
After all, she knew the person in front of her almost too well.
"L-Leone," she stuttered out.
It was a dear comrade. Someone that Akame had been avoiding entirely because she didn't want to come into conflict.
Leone was staring at Akame in silence, and when the silence eventually broke, it wasn't the start of an interrogation like Akame had expected.
Instead, Leone just looked utterly dazed.
"What kind of Monster was that?" She asked her.
It was strange.
Akame had left earlier, but she wasn't back yet despite several hours already passing. By now it was already mid-afternoon.
Shirou wasn't one to count the time, but considering the fact that Akame had always shadowed him in her free time, her current absence was worrying. At the same time though, he could already picture her getting annoyed at his concern for her. It may come off as overly meddlesome and she was no longer a child.
He sighed.
For now, maybe it was best if he just gave her a bit of space? She'd been acting differently ever since the latest batch of migrants had come along.
Akame aside, it was time to consider a plan of action. Although he'd repelled the enemy scouts, there was still merit in Akame moving to eliminate the rest. At the very least, it would have had delayed the response time of the various factions in the world. However, whether they came sooner or later, it didn't change the fact that they would certainly come.
He would not regret his own decisions.
He did not wish to be a Hero only to become a killer of the unfortunate.
The problem he was facing now, was that in the short term, no matter what the Empire or other forces threw at him, he'd be able to rebuff them without much concern. The issue lied in the long term. Should the demand on his magical energy exceed the supply of Danger Beasts that he had on hand, then he feared that he alone would not be enough to stop an army.
The one advantage that he had over all of the locals in the world, was that he alone had magic.
Magic was strong.
It was the same principle as his previous world.
A single Magus had the potential to decimate hundreds if not thousands of normal people at once given the right conditions. His situation of being the only magus in a world devoid of magic users, was much the same.
Humans were fragile after all.
It was all the more reason that he had to vigilantly protect everything that he held dear.
While caught up in his musings, he eventually ended up walking towards the area where a majority of migrants from Wakoku had decided to settle in Calla.
What he saw was an odd sight.
Was that Elaine?
She was standing there near the middle of the street while discussing something with a look of seriousness on her face. Oddly enough, she wasn't wearing her glasses and her hair was done slightly differently to cover up only one side of her face with her bangs.
The person in question that Elaine was talking to was Selka and the two appeared in heated discussion. It was only when numerous children began to flock towards Selka that Elain relented before pursing her lips.
The children were trailing behind Selka and climbing onto her legs and arms. Selka herself was indulging them and had no trouble lifting them up with her physical abilities as a woman of Heiwa.
Most of the children themselves were children of the other mothers that Selka was acquainted with on the harrowing journey that she had led her people on to seek refuge in Calla. To be frank, the children hanging off of her were the next generation of Heiwa's Hunters and women.
Different from Elaine, Selka was good at handling children.
She saddled one of the runts on her back while simultaneously supporting two more on her left and right arms. She made sure not to carelessly run over any of the children near her legs, and deliberately slowed down her pace to safely move the toddlers sitting on her feet.
It was an endearing sort of sight, more so because Selka was the type of person who was generally reserved towards strangers. Right now, she was smiling and grinning at the children around her.
"I'm a great and mighty Hunter," Selka boasted aloud. "You all have to work hard in the future too for your families."
Right now, it was evident that Selka had yet to notice him, because she'd never say anything like that with a straight face when he was around. It was really making him to start to wonder if he was being hated?
It really did look natural on her.
Now that he thought about, even on the first time that he had met Selka, she'd always been surrounded by children. She must have had a strong affinity to them, and made them feel comfortable.
Maybe he could ask her to look after Artus and Anna when he was too busy?
He really began to consider the prospect.
If it were Elaine, she'd definitely agree to it.
Still, the expression that Selka made when she finally realized that he was, in fact, standing only a few feet away from her, was oddly peculiar.
She basically just froze while stammering incoherently. It was as if she didn't know what she could say to redeem herself. The children began to whisper and point at him. Being so near the children, Selka could make out what they were saying, and it was only serving to make her cheeks redden.
"So that's big sis Selka's husband?"
"Yeah, yeah, its definitely him!"
Rather than speaking, or doing anything else, Selka's hands immediately covered the mouths of the children that were blathering nonsense.
She directly used her physical capabilities to run every single child near her back to their mothers who were all giving her encouraging looks in the distance.
Frankly, it was mortifying.
By the time that she was finished, she felt out of breath, but to Shirou, hardly a minute had passed.
Selka's speed was admirable.
In fact, it was probably the fastest that he'd ever seen her, and they had once fought a battle together against the people of Hageshi. It was starting to make him wonder if Selka had held back, or if her potential was already beginning to flourish.
In either case, she greeted him reservedly.
"Greetings Shirou," she inclined her head.
Inwardly, she was chanting 'please forget what you've just seen' in her mind nonstop. There was a perpetual tinge of red on her upper cheeks that she could feel was not going away. The embarrassment was suffocating, but she maintained her expression.
Fortunately, Shirou's attention shifted towards Elaine who was distinctly avoiding eye contact with him.
"Not wearing your glasses?" He asked.
Elaine shook head.
"I don't really need them," she admitted. The only reason that she wore glasses was that it was a tad straining on the eyes to sort through pile after pile of paper work. "More than that, how are you feeling?"
That was a vague kind of question.
He considered why Elaine would be asking him such a thing, but he gave out a normal response.
"I'm not feeling too bad, just a little tired is all," He said in reply.
Elaine didn't look like she believed him, and Selka was too busy staring at the ground to notice.
"Is that so?" Elaine scrutinized him up and down. "You look pale," she noted.
Selka looked up un surprise, taken off guard by Elaine's observation. Selka's concern for Shirou outweighed her personal shame.
"My natural complexion," he spoke before thinking. He'd been friends with Elaine for so long that his responses were almost compulsory at this point. It was an answer that wouldn't allow her to worry for him too much, but this time was different.
She just kept staring at him in a silence that was quickly stretching.
Strong as any man could be, women were undeniably intimidating when they just stared and did nothing else. It was as if he had done something wrong, and he didn't even know about what.
Yup.
In times like these, the only real answer for any logical man was to retreat in the face of the incomprehensible.
Unfortunately, he failed to take into account that moving too vigorously after just recovering from his earlier expenditure up on the walls, was far from the best choice that he'd ever made.
He staggered on his feet, not noticing the concern that was evident in both Elaine and Selka's eyes who noticed the detail. He didn't fit the image of perfect health in the least.
"Are you alright?" Selka moved to support him, but he shook his head.
"No no, it's fine. I'm alight," he insisted while he scratched wryly at the back of his head. "I just worked a bit too hard on something this morning."
Elaine's lips thinned. How could she not know what Shirou had done? She was near enough to see it all. How could such power not have had taken a toll on him?
Elaine looked at Selka in silent communication, and it was only after looking at Shirou that Selka finally relented.
"I agree to your proposal," Selka nodded at Elaine.
Shirou was the only one who felt like he was out of the loop simply because he was. Worse, neither of the two seemed to have any intention of including him.
Elaine just gave him a cryptic smile.
"You don't have to work yourself too hard anymore," she placed a hand dutifully in front of her chest. "Just leave those things to us."
You, Artus, and Anna, were far more important than what you could ever imagine.
Again? The scouts were all killed again?
The news was difficult to swallow, more so because of all of the efforts that were being put in to discover what was going on near the borders of the Empire.
One man was the leader of the entire reconnaissance effort by the Empire. An elderly and veteran soldier that had once served in a united Empire before the fracture with the Revolutionary Army.
The Empire would still continue its efforts. With a variable like the sudden emergence of large steel walls appearing within the borders of the country, there was no way that it could be left unknown.
There was a base camp set up a long distance away from the walls. It was a precautionary action, but it served to keep the remaining scouts and new scouts from the Capital safe from long distance attacks. Even Shirou would not needlessly attack simply because they were far enough away from his bottom line.
Still, that didn't mean that the residents of Calla were unaware of the camp.
Elaine, was particularly thorough.
Therefore, no matter how safe the Empire's scouts felt, it was a far cry from the truth.
They were already within the fangs of a crouching tiger.
Shadow-like figures were moving around the vicinity of the camp, making sure to stay out of sight until the entire area was surrounded. The scouts present in the camp were from another unit separate from the ones that had attempted infiltration in the morning.
They had no idea that the vanguard had been met with utter defeat and were in a particularly joyous mood. The Empire and Count Berkin had promised a handsome reward for any willing to provide them with information about what lied behind the steel walls, particularly of the military arrangements.
Looting was perhaps one of the most profitable activities for an empire built on power and war.
The mentality was that if such sturdy walls could be produced in a short time-frame, then the town or city being protected inside must have had been rich with resources. Considering the economic decline and degradation of the Empire, new resources could prolong the amount of time that Honest, the Advisor, could exploit the Empire's coffers.
Unfortunately, Calla wasn't a place to be taken lightly, nor did it take well to enemies vying to destroy the peace.
"We're in a place," a shadow reported to a masked figure in the foliage.
Behind the mask was a face that was entirely familiar to any bounty hunter in the Empire.
It was Raiga of the Mountain Bandits. However, Raiga hadn't always been a bandit. What if it were all just an act?
"Get into groups and start by eliminating the weakest members of the camp," Raiga spoke gruffly, there was an air of military discipline to him that could not be ignored. He stood with his back straightened and carried a poise only worthy for someone of noteworthy standing. "I'll take an advanced group and look for the leader."
The shadow nodded and soon left at Raiga's behest.
Raiga and the others were wearing a matching set of uniforms that had not been seen in decades. Leather armours bound together by fastened steel pauldrons that resembled the appearance of an imperial legion. They were from a time before even Honest, the Advisor, had come into power.
Each of them bore a particular crest at the top right of their shoulders just above their pectorals.
"Kill them."
The order was given, and almost methodically, all noise steadily began to fade from the camp along with the flickering of the flame at the cooking pit.
It was the ignorance of those in power indulging themselves in food and wine that prevented them from understanding that something was wrong until it was too late.
The night grew silent, not even the buzzing of the crickets to be heard.
One man blearily woke up from a drunken stupor to take a piss by the trees, but grew confused when he noticed several pairs of eyes staring at him.
He blinked only for a moment before looking down in shock as a metal dagger steadily pierced its way through his chest.
"E-Enemy…" The man's voice trailed off before he collapsed.
Similar events were happening all throughout the base camp before the stench of iron suffused the air.
It was enough to get the old veteran leader sober.
It was the scent of war and death.
Something was definitely wrong.
The leader was the only one in the base camp to obtain a personal room to sleep within. Other than himself, there was no one else around him.
The tent that he slept within was decorated with silks and personal items which he had obtained in his war campaigns as a veteran of the Empire. Trophies of Danger Beast corpses were hung near a decorated canvas, and not too far off was his own treasured sword.
Feeling apprehensive, the man moved towards his sword and slowly drew it forth from its sheath to gain a sense of security.
Calm.
Collected.
He could not allow himself to grow fearful.
This was the experience that he'd learned on the battlefield.
Slowly, he made his way towards the flaps of his tent and opened them wide to see the state outside. The noisy din of the evening was nowhere to be heard, and it was hard for the man to believe that every scout in the camp was a light weight when it came to drinking.
What he saw when he opened the flaps of his tent was a massacre.
The bodies of several of his men and even the hired mercenaries were laying flat and motionless. Over their bodies was the same wound.
A single stab to the heart, ending it all even before any noise or alarm could be sounded.
What kind of force could accomplish such a thing, and why was the Empire not aware of its existence?!
These people were professionals.
The veteran leader staggered back in a daze. He knew full well that he alone was far from a match to whatever group had carried out such a clean massacre. Sure enough, they soon arrived in front of him one by one standing in military ranks.
"Good evening to you," Raiga greeted cordially while stepping into the front. His expression was anything but friendly with a glaring red scar that ran across the bottom of his left eye. "I hope you don't mind the little mess here. Your activities have been upsetting the young miss, and she urged us into action."
"Your crazy," the veteran gathered his nerves and replied back. "The Empire has never once fallen to any enemy! You will regret this!"
Raiga simply shrugged at the unconcealed threat. The only reason that the veteran was left alive, was to convey a message.
"Tell your superiors that you all best not come back," Raiga spoke curtly, already turning his back away in dismissal.
The veteran was incensed. He enjoyed a high status ever since the conclusion of the Empire's expansionary wars. He could not tolerate this level of contempt. He was not like the common filth that begged for food on the streets.
"You curs! Bandits! Traitorous Rogues and Rabble!" The man exploded with a slurry of insults, not knowing that he had touched upon a rather sensitive subject.
"Bandits? Rabble?"
Raiga's shoulders trembled along with a majority of the men around him. It was true that he was now known as Raiga of the Mountain Bandits, but he was clearly not suited for such a role. The discipline and order that he instilled in his men was proof of that.
He wasn't a Bandit. He was something much more.
Most of the Empire's history had been lost four-hundred years ago, but it didn't mean that it had lost everything. There were parts in history that weren't written, yet it wasn't as if those events did not happen. For instance, to safeguard the safety of an important individual, relatives and friends could be written as 'deceased,' or had their names changed.
"None of you know just who you're dealing with," the expression on Raiga's face changed into a sneer. This wasn't part of what Elaine had asked him to do, but it should prove to be far more effective at making the Empire realize that Calla should not be lightly meddled with.
There were consequences.
"Look for yourselves and know your folly."
Raiga pointed at the emblem on his shoulder.
It wasn't visible in the low light of the moon, but when the flames flickered and briefly illuminated the emblem on his shoulder, the veteran immediately staggered back as if struck.
That symbol.
The veteran had seen it before upon the murals of history and in the Empire's very own audience hall.
"I-Impossible!" The man's eyes widened in disbelief.
A red crest fashioned in the form of a dragon held aloft over an aged and vaunted war banner.
A proof of identity.
An Imperial Seal.
Something only worn by those whose loyalty stemmed only to the Royal Family.
The Standard of the First Emperor.
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