Love and War: Male Reader (DMC Vergil) x Raven Branwen

Chapter I: Bandit Camp

The world of Remnant was not a safe place to live. Its history was one of turmoil and bloodshed. Darkness lurked in every corner of the land; hidden dangers concealed within its black depths. Creatures of Grimm, the darkness given shape in the form of vile beasts, hunted mankind from the shadows, preying on their fears. In order to survive in Remnant, one had to be strong. Did you have the strength, the mind, the sheer will to survive? If the answer was yes, you might see tomorrow. If not, your flesh would feed the Grimm and your blood would water the dried earth.

In their never-ending search for protection from the dangers of Remnant, mankind learned to harness the power of the elements given physical form through what they called dust. With the aid of dust, humanity kept the darkness at bay, and in its absence the light allowed life to flourish. Humanity evolved. The strong became defenders, warriors to stave off the shadows, huntsmen to slay the monsters. They were heroes amongst their communities, some even became legends. And through their acts of bravery the weak were allowed to live.

Like weeds in a garden the weak soon overtook the strong. With their protectors at the helm, they created civilizations and societies and cities that became kingdoms. Now the strong were expected to protect, to defend, to lay down their lives for those too weak to defend themselves. And if someone wanted more than to be a human shield, they were exiled. Left, as always, to fend for themselves.

As the years passed, those in exile began to band together. If the weak had been correct about one thing, it was that there was strength in numbers. The strong formed their own civilizations, and this scared the kingdoms. Because the weak always fear the strong. They sent their protectors to hunt them down. But the strong would not yield. The strong would survive. The strong always survived.
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She tried to keep her head down as she was walked through the large campsite. She was accompanied by an escort on either side of her, one man and one woman, steering her roughly through the maze of tents. Her arms were pinned to her sides, her captors maintaining a firm grip on her upper arm. She had stopped fighting them a while back. Both were larger and much more muscular than she, rendering any attempt to escape their grip essentially impossible, not that it would do her any good now. Even if by some miracle she did manage to get away from the two, it would be a short-lived victory. The once empty field was now crowded with people she could only think to describe as bandits.

Though her gaze was directed at the ground, she could feel their eyes following her, piercing stares through narrowed eyes watching her every move. Despite herself, she couldn't help but lift her gaze slightly, trying to inconspicuously absorb her surroundings. As she scanned the area, her eyes locked with one of the bandits standing in front of a tent just a few meters off. His arms were crossed over a dark slate leather jacket. Beneath it she could make out a belt draped from his right shoulder down to his opposite hip where she could just barely make out the hilt of a sword beneath the greyish blue coat. Locking eyes with the girl, the man furrowed his brow, his left hand dropping to thumb the hilt of his blade. He didn't say anything to her, but his message was clear.

Quickly averting her gaze, she instead looked in the opposite direction. Across the field there was a collection of large cages constructed of wood. There were around three dozen bodies in each cage, the captives' bodies pressed up against each other with barely enough room to stand. Every one of them was covered in dirt and grime, their hands wrapped around the wooden bars, or else their arms stretched through them as they leaned against the edge of the enclosure. One of the prisoners spotted her staring and stood up a little straighter, a glimmer of hope appearing in her eyes. She reached her hands out and called to her. Awoken by their fellow prisoner's cries, the others began to join in her plea for help.

Her head turned as she walked further into the camp; her eyes fixated on the prisoners reaching out to her. Her attention was brought back to the present when she felt her escorts tug hard on her arm, bringing her to a sudden halt. In front of her passed two men carrying a dead boar, its legs tied to a long pole slung over their shoulders. Once they had passed, the three continued their journey through the camp.

They came to a stop in front of two adjoined tents near the back of the camp, one larger that the other. Two guards stood on either side of the entrance to the smaller structure, each equipped with a corseque. As they approached, the guards crossed the polearms in front of the entrance, blocking their path.

"The sins are in council with the Dark Angel." The guard on the left said. "What business do you have with them?"

"An intruder." The woman on her left said.

Looking at each other, the two guards shouldered their weapons and lifted back the folds of the tent, granting them entrance. The ground inside had been covered with hardwood, a small rug at the entrance and before another exit at the side of the room that likely lead to the larger tent next door. Thin wooden beams were spaced evenly along the outer edge, supporting the tent canvas, giving it an octagonal shape. In the center of the tent was a larger rug, a rectangular wooden table sitting on top of it, covered in various papers and what appeared to be a large map of the area. It was hard to tell though, as the table was surrounded by seven men and women. Some had their heads bent over the table, others standing with crossed arms. They were all deep in discussion, the conversation jumping from one person to the next, someone occasionally pointing out certain spots on the map and specific lines of text.

The woman on her left nervously cleared her throat, the small noise immediately bringing silence as everyone in the room looked up. Each of their eyes held a sense of power an authority that caused the girl to shrink beneath their strong gazes. On either side, she could feel her two escorts tense up as well. Clearly, these men and women were the heads of the camp.

"Well?" asked a woman on the right side of the table, her irritation evident in her voice.

"W-We caught this one snooping around." The man said, pushing the girl further into the tent.

"Lucian," the woman said, turning to the man at the head of the table, "camp security is your domain. I'll turn this over to you."

The man called Lucian looked the girl over before speaking, his voice reeking of privilege. "Balthazar? Have you any use of her?"

"I have more labor than I know what to do with." A man in grey robes yawned. "And the cages are overflowing as is."

"Very well." Lucian said before returning his attentions to the papers on the table before him. "Kill her."

The two bandits nodded and began dragging her back out of the tent.

"What? No, wait!" she shouted; her eyes wide with fear as she fought against the bandits' grip on her upper arms. "Wait! I'm Raven Branwen's daughter!"