《Y'Nfalle: From Beyond Ancient Gates》


 Chapter 1 - Forgotten amongst the dunes

    "I smell... blood. Steel. Aggression without malice... How long has it been?"


    Sheela opened her eyes, yawning and stretching her arms.


    "How long has it been since I''ve seen a human in these halls? A few centuries? A millennium?"


    She rubbed her eyes and adjusted her hair, presentation was everything. As the lost soul trapped in her dungeon walked closer, she sprung from her vessel. Spreading both her arms open, towering over the cloaked man.


    "Welcome to my humble abode mortal! Consider yourself blessed to stand before me!"


    ***


    "Wha? Where the fuck am I?"


    The soldier stood in the middle of what seemed like a desert temple, looking around.


    His clothes seemed wet and torn, but Sheela could immediately recognize it as a soldier¡¯s uniform.


    He walked around the halls filled with sand and various riches, looking for an exit. Checking his equipment, all his instruments seemed to no longer work.


    The human knew he was very far from the battlefield he was on previous to teleportation.


    "Fucking elves and their magic bullshit." He cussed, walking into the main chamber of the forgotten temple.


    "Welcome to my humble abode mortal!"


    A female voice tore through the century-long silence.


    The man turned around, clenching his fist and aiming his left arm at the source of the sudden voice.


    She was easily as tall as a two-story house, with long sable hair which flowed like it had a mind of its own, cascading down her back in waves. Her body, curved like the desert dunes that hid the temple and skin kissed by the sun and heat, was decorated in ornamental jewellery.


    Eyes the colour of gold that filled the chamber, shined as they looked down at the man.


    The human did not seem impressed. His initial shock had worn off pretty quickly, as he looked the massive woman up and down.


    "You don''t have a shadow." He said matter-of-factly, before picking a small stone from the dusty floor and throwing it at her. The rock went right through her.


    "Just as I thought. More magic or illusions or whatever. Props for the entrance though, real showstopper."


    "YOU DAARE?!" Sheela roared, raising her fist threateningly, but the deadpan stare of the mortal made her realize intimidation wouldn''t work.


    "Human... You fail to realise how fortunate you are. You stand before the great Sheela, Immortal Queen of the Dunes! I have made cowards into warriors, beggars into kings, mended broken hearts with harems of women! All you need to do is say what you wish for and I shall make it true."


    Her size changed as she moved closer to the man, now only slightly taller than him, floating around the room like a cloud of sand.


    "How long was it since you''ve had a woman melt in your arms?"


    The genie whispered, circling him, her floating turned to slow, deliberate walking as she gained a more solid shape. Like a trained seductress, Sheela rubbed against his left arm, feeling the warm metal under her fingers.


    "Or perhaps you would like your arm and eye back? Or more pieces of gold than there are grains of sand in the desert? Just say what''s in your heart."


    "Wish huh?" The man ignored the floating apparition, instead looking around the chamber, looking for where she had come from.


    "Why are you even here?" He asked.


    "Oh, my tale is a tragic one. The scholar I have helped become a powerful Archmage imprisoned me here." Sheela floated over to an old-looking vase, theatrically falling to her knees and wrapping her arms around it.


    "Now I wait here, for centuries, for someone so selfless to grant me my freedom at last." She batted her eyelashes and gave him a sad look.


    "So, you''re a genie? Huh, I''ve always expected you guys to have beards and be blue."


    The soldier said, chuckling to himself.


    "You grant wishes, but twist them in a way, so someone would learn a lesson or something, right?"


    "Wh-? No, no, no human. Where''d you get that idea?"


    Sheela was caught off guard by the question, floating back over to the man.


    "Don''t tell me you have no desires. I''ve heard that a thousand times. I know it''s a lie every SINGLE time!" She hissed.


    "So be a good boy, save us both time and drop the act. What do you wish for? Riches? Power? Influence? Women? Your limbs back?"


    The genie looked into the man''s eyes, frowning at eyes looking back at her.


    "You fucking warhound."


    She spat on the ground beside him, making a face of disgust and disappointment.


    "First human in several centuries and it''s a homicidal cripple with no will to live."


    "Bark, bark, bark genie." Mocked the human.


    "You can try any angle you want; I''m not falling for it. I know how y''all work. I will wish for gold or something, and you will turn me into a golden statue."


    The man pointed to several gold statues of different creatures that decorated the corners of the main chamber.


    "They don''t look very happy. I mean, who makes a statue with its arms raised in horror?"


    "Ever heard of artistic expression?" The genie hissed back bitterly as she walked back to her vase and sat beside it.


    The soldier rubbed the back of his sunburnt neck with his mechanical left hand.


    "Man, I wish..." He mumbled.


    Sheela''s head snapped back up to look at him, a devious smirk of triumph plastered on her face, only to be met with the human¡¯s shit-eating grin and the index finger of his good hand pointed at her.


    "Ah, got ya." He laughed.


    "Ugh... If there is truly nothing you want, get out of here. I want to go back to my slumber. Leave this place, live your whole miserable life knowing you could have become more than you ever imagined." She waved her hand, motioning for him to get out of her sight.


    "So... which way is the nearest settlement?" Asked the soldier.


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    The genie shrugged.


    "No idea. I''ve been here for so long. You know, when you''re a genie, people sort of come to you. Now if you WISH to know, then I might be able to help."


    What the human didn''t know is that the more wishes the genie grants, the closer she is to her freedom. So Sheela''s attempts to get him to make a wish weren''t only for the sake of malice.


    However, he was not wrong in his assumption that genies are not benevolent and they, due to their superiority complex that stems from their almost omnipotent powers, often grant the wishes in a twisted fashion.


    "We seem to be at an impasse genie. I need to get out of here and find my way back to my troops and you need to fulfil your sick pleasure of screwing over another moron. Since I don''t intend to just die in the desert, I will take a gamble and have you grant my wish." The man said.


    Sheela almost leapt with joy, grinning ear to ear, once more assuming her towering and imposing form, her voice booming through the chamber.


    "Splendid choice human! Now, speak! Tell mighty Sheela your wish."


    "My wish for you, oh all-powerful Sheela, is that you become such, that the vase can no longer hold or bind you!" The man said.


    Sheela roared with laughter, the sand from the desert pouring into the temple, wrapping around her like a sandstorm. The vase shook and trembled, cracks appearing all over it, as the genie swirled and laughed, relishing in the thought of her, soon to come, freedom.


    "You fool! Do you think this will grant you some favour with me? That I''ll ''owe you one''?" She roared, her golden eyes shining through the vortex of sand and dust.


    "Nonsense! You will be the first one I turn into a corpse for your insolence towards me. This temple will serve as your tomb!"


    The restraints on her wrists fell to the ground with a clang, before turning into sad and being sucked back onto the rattling vase. The vortex soon too began getting sucked in. The genie soon followed.


    "What?! What''s going on? This shouldn''t be happening! Your wish, MY FREEDOM!"


    She screamed before finally being pulled into the vase.


    The imprisoning vase shattered violently a second later, ceramics and sand flying in every direction, causing the soldier to cover his face with his metal left arm. As the dust settled, he waved his other arm a bit, clearing the view in front of him, followed by some coughing.


    "I''m... free." The genie said, sitting where the vase once was. Her body seemed tangible compared to before. She looked over at the man, covering her chest with both her arms. The woman looked the same as before, and the amount of clothes, or lack thereof, had not changed either.


    "Don''t just stand there oaf! Toss me a curtain or something to cover myself!" Sheela hissed an order at the man.


    The soldier grabbed a piece of cloth from the pile of various riches that littered the chamber and tossed it over the woman.


    Sheela could not fully process what she was feeling. Liberation. Shock. Anger. Embarrassment.


    She never felt so exposed before, despite wearing nothing but her ornamental jewellery for millennia.


    "Your wish... I was to be free. The vase is gone, broken. My prison is broken. Yet my power, I..."


    The genie could feel power surging inside her, but it was different.


    "There, there." As the man patted her on the shoulder, she jumped like his touch was acidic.


    Her body moved, her brain still processing what just happened.


    "He touched me. He TOUCHED ME!" The thought overwhelmed her mind, as she wrestled with the realisation that she was no longer intangible.


    Extending her right hand, she focused her magic. The feeling of it coursing through her was so alien, it made her skin shudder.


    "Wither to dust and begone from my sight," Sheela shouted, as a torrent of sand hit the man and launched him backward into a pile of sand.


    ***


    "So, have we calmed down?" Solon asked, sitting down next to Sheela, but still keeping some distance.


    "Don''t patronize me human." She sighed, turning her head to look at the man, as he was shaking sand out of his metal arm.


    "My power is gone so much I could not even end a pitiful human." She frowned.


    The sun was sending its rays through the holes in the temple ceiling, bathing both of them in light. The former Genie watched, for the first time, as her own shadow stretched across the floor.


    "How did you trick me?" She whispered.


    "Pretty simple." Answered the soldier, grinning at his ingenuity and the fact it actually worked.


    "I wished that you become such, that you get free. The vase imprisons genies, like yourself. So through my wish, you got changed from a genie to... human?" He ended his explanation with a question, looking at her long and pointy ears.


    "Desert folk. They used to be most common in these lands. Hell, they even built this temple." Sheela replied.


    "As for your magic, don''t worry. I''m immune to magic. Almost all of us who came here are." Solon patted her on the back.


    This time she didn''t jump away, accepting the reassuring gesture.


    "Came here? I agree, you are far different from any human I''ve met before. You have metal welded to your body and you aren''t going insane. And you have no magic either."


    "Mhm. To keep a long story short, many centuries ago, humans from here found a way to open gates to other places, to expand their civilizations. They would pop up, use their extraordinary powers to help civilizations grow, in turn being worshipped as gods or demigods or wizards and shit. The issue is, not every world they came to was equally attuned to magic as their world. In the case of MY Earth, the attunement was so bad, it drained them of their magic. So they helped what little they could, and decided to leave before they completely lose their powers, leaving the gates they constructed behind them." The soldier explained.


    "Despite leaving pretty early in our own history, they helped our civilization stand on its own two feet. That was enough to have us continue progressing on our own. Eventually, with technology, we reverse-engineered the gates and went to meet our gods and demigods of old folk tales. Coming here, we realised there are a LOT more species beyond just humans, like elves and dwarves, who weren''t too happy with a reverse gate situation. Humans are pretty rare in this world it seems. The others tried to shoo us away, but once we became aware of how much land this world has and all the resources that create energy without pollution. Well... we had to stick around. The natives aren''t too quick to embrace democracy though."


    Solon knocked on his left shoulder and it made a ''clang'' sound.


    Sheela listened to the explanation, nodding her head. As insane as it sounded, she felt like the pieces fell together so well it made sense. Or at least it felt good to believe this crazy story over accepting that a human has screwed her over twice in one day.


    "So... what do we do now?" She asked.


    "Well, priority number one is getting outside of this desert. Finding a settlement or something." The man replied, getting up and patting the dust off his pants.


    "I think there used to be a settlement West of here." She got up, putting on a dusty old toga-like dress, that she took from one of the golden statues.


    "Should not be too far. Maybe a day or so away."


    "Oh, you are tagging along, almighty Queen of the Dunes?" Solon grinned.


    "Fuck off. Thanks to you, my only alternative is starving to death in this temple, so yes. I am coming with. Better take good care of me, Solon."


    She huffed, walking past him. Even in her normal form, Sheela was still an entire head taller than the human.


    "Solon?" The soldier followed her as they both stepped into the unforgiving sun, wrapped in cloaks made from dusty old cloth they found in the temple.


    She pointed to his mechanical left arm.


    "Yes, that is what I have decided to name you."


    "But I already have a name." The man protested.


    "Not in this world you don''t. Now stop being difficult and walk." Sheela huffed her superiority complex back in full effect.


    The soldier sighed, choosing not to argue.


    "The former genie seemed to have gotten over her new change pretty quickly." He thought to himself, as they pair left the temple behind them.

 Chapter 2 - Invaders fear no dungeon

    "Humans broke through the first two floors." Reported one of the elven mages.


    "Already?!" replied Vanril, turning towards the mage, his earls slumped in exhaustion.


    "Yes, it seems the explosives they carried with them made light work of the dungeon." Said the mage.


    "Do not worry, even iron-class adventurers breeze past the first few floors. It will only get harder for them the further they go."


    "Sure hope so. It took 100 mages, the Queen''s finest, to construct this dungeon. I think victory to be impossible if these murder apes treated this place like an evening stroll." The elven soldier adjusted his helm, and straightened his posture, not letting the news shake his resolve.


    "We''ve hired the aid of many adventurers too. Along with all the various beasts this dungeon has to offer, the invaders will never see the exit." Assured the mage.


    "Don''t you think the beasts will also target the adventurers we hired?" Vanril asked.


    "That''s a possibility. But not our problem to be honest. They were paid upfront. Whatever happens to them now, that''s their issue." The mage replied nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders.


    The elven soldier said nothing, simply sighed and turned to watch the massive door they were guarding.


    ***


    A party of adventurers situated near the fourth floor of the dungeon sat around their campfire, mortified by the loud banging coming from above. It''s been well over an hour since they sent their Kobold rogue to check in on the progress of the invading Murder Apes. It should have been easy, as the dungeon was similar to a tower of sorts, just beneath the ground. Each layer closer to the surface was less deadly. The deeper down anyone went, the harder and more dangerous the dungeon got.


    A human woman, the leader of the party, felt the most anxious out of all her comrades. The enemy was human too, like her, but different in every way. She couldn''t shake the feeling of eyes, belonging to her fellow party members, burning into her. Being a mercenary, loyalty was measured in coin, and even then wasn''t guaranteed. The non-human comrades felt she would betray them, that she would seek refuge and alliance with the invading humans.


    "Fuck! They made light work out of the first two floors. They''re absolutely blown to bits." Came a shrill voice from the shadows just beyond the campfire lights reach.


    "Grimzy! I TOLD you NOT to sneak up on us like that." Growled Nattarri. With a sigh, the large panther woman lowered her spear as the Kobold emerged from the dark and sat by the fire.


    "How are they progressing through the third layer?" Asked the party leader.


    "Without an issue. They have some sort of heavily armoured tank with them. On two legs. Like a Golem, if Golems were made out of metal. The goblins are already on the retreat, realizing their spears and arrows do fuck all against that thing." Grimzy sighed and took a swig from a flask he pulled out of his vest pocket.


    "I don''t know what kind of magic they are using, but they''re dropping those green bastards like flies. They have sticks that flash and make noise." The Kobold continued.


    "I think we should retreat down to the fifth layer and see to make a larger defence group with the adventurer groups situated there. The 5 of us wouldn''t be able to do anything on our own. That''s how I see it." He added.


    "I''ve heard they are immune to magic." Spoke the healer softly, drawing random symbols with her staff in the dirt, hoping to calm her nerves.


    "That is not possible. No one is immune to magic!" Hissed the panther in response.


    "If they have sticks that flashlight, those must be magic. Maybe they are heavily armoured mages. And mages are usually bad at close combat. I just need to get close." She grinned.


    "Yeah... that might work. The caverns are barely lit. If we get the jump on them, we may at least give them enough casualties to halt their advance." Replied the human, her trembling hand gripping the hilt of her sword.


    The roaring of gunfire on the floor above got closer, the advance of the human invaders relentless and undeterred despite the goblin hordes.


    "Put the fire out and let''s get into position. We need to take out the Golem as soon as they breach the gate to floor 3." She said, putting on her helm, taking a swig from the Kobold''s flask to take the edge off her nerves and standing up.


    The rest of the party nodded in unison, getting into position, ready to jump the advancing force as soon as they walked through the gate.


    ***


    "You alright Clyde? See anything?" Chuckled one of the human soldiers, patting the hulking behemoth in Combat Armour on the ass.


    "Barely. I got so much goblin goo on me, I can''t see two feet in front of me. Then again, If it''s in front of me, It''s not friendly anyways, so I just shoot." Replied the behemoth, following his words with a laugh.


    To the rest of his unit, they weren''t sure if his voice was naturally that deep, or if the Combat Armour came with voice modifiers for effect. No one knew, as no one had ever seen him outside of the suit. One thing was certain, Clyde was a freak of nature. He towered above any other man in his squad, as well as any enemy encountered so far. He was as tall as most elves that they had encountered in this world, easily pushing above 7 feet in height. Despite the heavy Combat Suit being servo-assisted to allow for easier mobility, he still moved much faster than anyone else would have if put inside that piece of armour.


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    "I think the Goblins are mostly gone. If anything, they''ve retreated to the burrows on the lower levels, so this probably isn''t the last we see of them." Another of the human soldiers said, checking something on a handheld monitor.


    "Good. Still, keep your head on the swivel, if they decide to come from behind us." Clyde replied, pushing forward towards the gate that separated the floors, oblivious of the ambush on the other side.


    "We''ve got movement." The soldier with the monitor said. The device he held was a motion detector, tracking micro changes in air density, allowing the squad to have a full 360-degree range covered.


    "On the other side of the door. Probably an ambush."


    "More goblins?" Asked another man, training his rifle on the door, while the others turned to cover the sides of the hallway and the ceiling for possible goblin holes.


    "Not sure, it''s a very small group, like 5 of them. And they move in coordination it seems, so they''re probably something else." The one with the tracker replied.


    "So, a breach charge on the gate, and then we rush in?" Clyde asked, walking over to the heavy wooden door and sticking a brick that said "Happy Birthday" on it to the door. Then he took a few steps back, raised his gun and shouted.


    "CLEAR!"


    ***


    Menzos got into position, chanting and mumbling to himself, buffing his teammates with all the supportive spells they would need for this encounter.


    Grimzy hid in the shadows nearby, his poison throwing daggers at the ready. Nattarri lurked on the ceiling above the entrance gate, ready to pounce on the first soldier who walked through. Amalia, the human party leader waited by the gate, ready to charge from the sides. The only one who was away from the direct battle was Olya, the party''s healer.


    Menzos finally finished his chants, before raising a defensive magic barrier between Olya and himself, and the gate.


    The air felt tense, as the sound of heavy footsteps on the other side got closer. The party held their breath, waiting for the heavy door to slowly open.


    "CLEAR!" Came the booming voice from the other side, as a short beep followed.


    The door did not open. With an ear-piercing sound and blinding light, the wooden gate was turned to shrapnel, aimed at the party.


    Olya jumped to cover behind a pillar, as Menzos took the full blast head on, and got sent flying across the room. Nattarri screamed and fell off the ceiling, clutching her ears. She rolled on the floor, growling and screaming as her eardrums were ruptured by the loud explosion. The ringing mixed with pain felt like her whole skull was buzzing. Before the smoke even cleared, the lumbering metal golem walked in. His magic stick was held at hip height with both arms, a strange belt attached from it to a large backpack on his back.


    Grimzy leapt from the shadows, throwing daggers at the giant.


    "Contact!" Shouted the golem in a deep voice, the daggers bouncing off him with zero effect.


    He aimed his stick at the kobold''s general direction and without uttering a single spell, unleashed a short burst of light and noise. Amalia dropped to her knees, clutching her ears to dampen the noise, looking away from the firing golem. No amount of stealth or agility could help the rogue as he was gunned down. With the help of Olya''s healing magic, Menzos got off his back on the other side of the room. Grabbing his staff, he started chanting before he got into a seated position. A ball of fire formed in front of him, growing brighter and brighter.


    "TAKE THIS FREAK! MAGIC MIS-"


    His spell-casting was cut short by a single bang coming from behind the behemoth standing in the doorway. Menzos''s lifeless body fell back on the floor, as blood began to pool around his head. The magic missile he almost formed had dissipated into the surroundings.


    The party leader had just about given up on living when an animalistic roar snapped her out of it.


    Nattarii had used the golem''s lack of attention from Menzo''s failed magic missile attempt to get her bearings and attack the armoured foe.


    She thrust the spear with all her might into the behemoth''s chest. Her attempt on his life was rewarded with a "clink", the horrendous sound of metal hitting metal and nothing more.


    With his left arm, the golem swatted her spear away and with that same arm grabbed her by the throat, easily hoisting her up in the air. She hissed, spit flying from her mouth as she cursed in her native tongue, eyes bulging with murderous rage, fangs bared. She swung her claws, her last resort at the armoured soldier, but the result was the same as with her spear.


    Amalia watched as the golem dropped his long magic stick and picked up a smaller one from his hip with his right hand, and then pressed the tip of it between the panther woman''s breasts. A click followed by another loud bang put a golf-sized hole through the beast-woman''s chest. With ease and zero respect, he threw Nattarri''s lifeless body to the side.


    "This one''s human." Said Clyde, turning towards Amalia, who sat against the wall, passed out from shock.


    "She seems to have given up on the idea of fighting."


    As her sword clanked against the floor, Clyde turned his attention to the healer.


    The dryad woman was kneeling next to the body of her fellow mage, looking up at the ceiling with a vacant stare, arms hanging limply at her side.


    The sound of heavy footsteps seemed to snap her out of it, as she looked at the approaching behemoth in the Combat Armour. Coming face to face with the barrel of his machine gun, had her bladder betray her.


    The dryad went from looking shell-shocked to crying and screaming, begging in a language neither Clyde nor the rest of the squad could understand.


    She threw her coin purse at his feet, tearing at her robes while crawling closer, offering everything she had, including herself, in return for her life.


    "What''s she saying?" Clyde asked, turning halfway to his comrades.


    "Fuck if I know man." Jeremy, the soldier in charge of the motion detector, replied.


    "Maybe she''s chanting some sort of suicide explosion spell."


    The rest of the squad chuckled a bit, as Clyde looked around for something. He picked up the dryad''s staff, placing it in her arms, before raising the gun barrel to her face. The woman screamed in fear, throwing the staff away as if it was lit on fire.


    "I think she''s surrendering," Jeremy said.


    "Yeah, I think so too. Put her in cuffs with the other chick and take them up to camp. The rest of us will make camp here for now, until the probes finish mapping out the rest of this floor."


    The other man replied, lowering his gun and turning away from the healer, before sitting down on the ground, while the rest of the squad started moving the bodies away so they could make camp.

 Chapter 3 - Witness the Iron Fortress

    The war room was silent. Lymlok stood on the balcony, arms resting on the wooden railing, staring into the distant horizon.


    "I still don''t understand. What ungodly spell have they used to attack the Home Tree? Have you humans discovered some new arcane arts?" The elven prince turned around, locking eyes with Duke Perriman.


    "What? No, your Highness. No human magic can rival that of the elves, surely you know that!" The man defended himself, raising both his hands and shaking his head.


    "Then how? How did they pierce the magic barrier and blow a hole in the Home Tree?" The Elf hissed, walking back inside and sitting down, eyes still locked on the Duke.


    The unpleasant silence was interrupted by Tarik, the Forgelord of the Southern dwarven guild.


    "Because they have not used any magic. It was a physical attack, that bore a hole in your fort.


    Lymlok looked ready to erupt.


    "A physical-? A physical attack?! You''re telling me that they, what, just decided to lob a rock at the Home Tree at great speed?! You honestly expect me to believe that dwarf? Or has your head finally filled up with enough dirt to stop your brain from working?"


    The dwarf was unfazed by the prince''s outburst, waiting for him to finish before continuing his explanation.


    "It is the only thing that makes sense. A magic barrier prevents magical attacks but allows physical objects to pass through. So far, the entire arsenal we''ve encountered has been nothing but physical weaponry. From their loud sticks that shoot lead, to their exploding orbs."


    "That is impossible. No such contraption exists!" The elf slumped into his chair, rubbing his temple in exhaustion.


    "The attack came from the field of Vatur. I do not know what has done it, as no one has been able to send any scouts. Ever since the murder apes breached the portal gate a few months ago, not even a bird can fly across the sky without getting shot down. We''ve sent scouts. They''ve either failed to get close enough to report anything or they''ve failed to return at all." Duke Perriman said, finally finding his voice.


    "It is a fortress of metal. An entire construction designed with the singular goal of destruction from a distance no spell can reach." A female voice, smooth as honey, filled the war room.


    An elven woman, adorned in a royal gown with a wreath around her head, was carried into the room and sat down at the head of the table.


    "Claudia. You should be resting. I''m sorry if my voice woke you up, I got carried away." Lymlok stood up, but his sister waved him to sit back down, before turning her gaze towards the Duke.


    "You. Out of my sight. I can''t stand to have you in my presence." She hissed; every word filled with venomous hate.


    Claudia hated humans with a passion unrivalled by any other elf in the kingdom of her father.


    Even though she knew that men like Duke Perriman were allies of the elves, they looked exactly like the invading Murder Apes, as elves and other species took to calling the non-magic having invaders from the other side of the portal gate. And those very humans cost her more than she was ever willing to give.


    "At once my Lady." Perriman bowed and left the war room with urgency in his step.


    "You know what it is?" Asked Tarik.


    "Yes. I was there with Eothen last autumn when the invaders attempted to bring in that monstrosity through the portal. It was their first and so far the only successful time they brought anything larger than infantry and their small, armoured vehicles." The elven princess replied.


    Lymlok flinched at the mention of his late brother''s name but did not dare interrupt his older sister, as she began to tell them what happened that night.


    ***


    The rain poured down relentlessly for the last several days. The ground was so loose, that the soldiers felt like they might sink into the mud with each step. The entire outpost was on high alert, as this was the longest a portal gate had ever been kept open, drawing unwanted attention from the various different scouting parties, especially the elves.


    A scouting party, led by none other than Claudia herself, watched over the outpost for days. The humans were laying down metal tracks, leading from the centre of the outpost to the portal gate. They worked day and night, as if on a tight schedule, putting down the massive beams of steel.


    The elves of the Vatur kingdom were no strangers to the contraptions of the invaders. From their heavy armour immune to arrows to their armored vehicles. But whatever they were trying to bring through the portal gate, it would surely be massive.


    The Vatur field, named after the kingdom in which it was situated, held one of the biggest portal gates on the western side of the continent. So, it was no surprise that the invaders did everything they could to secure it as their outpost. Claudia cursed her father for not listening and securing such a valuable asset sooner. But now it was too late for that. It was up to her and her brother Eothen, to drive the Murder Apes away from the portal.


    Her train of thought was interrupted by the loud noise of heavy machinery. Generators working at maximum capacity to ensure the stability of the portal. The elf princess watched, eyes wide in horror, as a fortress of metal slowly came into view. It moved slowly, on massive metal wheels, along the rails that were placed on the ground.


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    "Brother!" She yelled for Eothen.


    The elf prince, the oldest of the 3 siblings and next in line for the throne, was already ahead of her in thought.


    If they allowed the humans to bring that thing into their world, they would be sentencing their kingdom and its people to death.


    "I know. We have to stop it. Information gathering be damned, it''s now or never." Eothen nodded, before blowing a whistle, sounding to the remainder of his troops, further back from the scouting party, that the time to strike was now.


    The high-pitched whistle sound was drowned out by the heavy rain, but the motion detectors caught on just in time for the humans to not be entirely caught off guard by the flurry of arrows that came from the woods. The elves descended on the outpost as heavily as the rain storm, arrows and spells let loose as rapidly as possible. They knew where to aim, arrows hitting between the armour plates of their enemies, dropping them while they were still confused.


    Humans responded in kind, machinegun sentries lighting up the area, gunning down as many elves as their instruments could detect. The rainfall made their aiming less accurate, allowing Eothen and his troops to get into the encampment. His heart sank to his stomach, witnessing the massive fortress up close.


    "Protect the generators! The rail cannon is almost through the portal, we need to keep it at 100% output for a little longer!" Shouted the human soldiers to one another, trying to be louder than the storm.


    "The buzzing machinery! They hold the portal steady! We need to-!" Before the prince could finish giving out the order in his native tongue, his ears twitched, warning him of an approaching attack. Eothen turned to face the danger, only to be met with a metal fist to the side of the face, sending him down into the mud.


    Nearby troops rushed to his aid but were gunned down before they could even draw their swords.


    Eothen shook his head, spat out blood and a tooth onto the ground and slowly rose to his feet, turning to meet his opponent.


    Before him stood a mean-looking man, his missing left eye and arm replaced by prosthetics. Just by looking at it, the fake left arm was not just as compensation. It was undoubtedly fashioned as a replacement for the guns the humans usually used as their weapons. In addition to his left arm, a large handgun hung from his left thigh and a Doramite axe from the other.


    The elven prince heard of these humans before. They were labelled as War Hounds by their peers and were usually the first ones sent into an area to clean it up of any resistance. Instead of fear, the elf felt excited to hone his skills against such a capable opponent.


    As the shock factor of their assault wore off, the elven casualties grew and their chances of successfully preventing the rail cannon from passing through the portal diminished. Humans focused all their efforts on guarding the generators, even at the cost of their own lives. Claudia was left with a difficult choice to make. Escape and warn her father of the threat, or stay and try to prevent it even at the cost of their life?


    Be it luck or not, that choice was made for her. The metal fortress stopped to a screeching halt, as the first of its 4 heavy anchors bore into the soil. Their assault had failed, despite the numerous invader casualties. Her brother held his own against the Hound, but his backup lay dead on the ground.


    "Claudia! Retreat! Warn father!" Shouted Eothen, before receiving a right hook that knocked him to his knees.


    "Don''t bother. You are not leaving this place alive." said the human, watching the elf rise off the ground again while chanting something.


    "And neither are they."


    The prince did not need to speak the human¡¯s language to understand the implications of what was said. He channelled all the magic he could muster, aiming it straight at the man''s chest to blow him up from the inside. Sadly, for the elf, the invading humans were highly resilient to magic, if not outright immune to most forms of it.


    The metal fist once more struck Eothen across the face, before grabbing him by the neck and lifting him onto his feet.


    "Nice try hippie. Allow me to reward the effort with a display." Said the human, turning the elf so they were both facing in the same direction.


    He watched his sister and the remaining few soldiers flee back towards the safety of the woods.


    "Wonder if I can make the shot with my janky left eye?" Grinned the man, pulling out the handgun from his belt and aiming it at fleeing Claudia.


    With what fight Eothen had left in him, he elbowed the man in the face as he was about to take the shot. The gunshot rang out, followed by his sister''s pained scream in the distance.


    "At least the shot didn''t kill her on the spot." Was all that the elf could think of, as the metal hand that gripped his neck tightened. A loud snap and his world went black.


    ***


    Lymlok sat in silence, tears welling in his eyes as his older sister finished her story. His rage grew by the minute.


    "I see. What a monstrous contraption." Nodded the dwarven Forgelord.


    "After they had fired it once, doing the damage that they did, we acquired aid from Duke Perriman to help us raise a physical barrier to stop any subsequent shots from the rail cannon," Claudia said, pointing outside the window to a wall of heavy and thick trees that now served as physical protection of the Home Tree.


    "And your... legs?" Tarik asked cautiously.


    "The bullet, as they call them, isn''t as easy to remove as an arrow. And none of the elves with me at the time could safely remove it. They managed to heal me enough to keep me alive. By the time I was brought to the royal healer, it was already too late for me." The princess sighed, looking down at her limp legs.


    "Everything below the hips, useless. Paralyzed. I begged the healer to end me on the spot, but he refused. I thank him for it. Even like this, I can live long enough to see the head of the bastard that took my brother and my legs hanging from my window." She hissed, wiping her eyes before the tears started rolling down her cheeks.


    "At the very least, our father was properly warned and had spread the word to other kingdoms. Every possible portal gate is now heavily guarded and watched over. Not a single weapon like that, nor a single human, will ever set foot on this world again." Claudia''s younger brother spoke, composing himself at last.


    "So now we ask you, Sir Dwarf, how possible is it for us to construct such a weapon? To use against the Murder Apes?"


    "I see." Sighed Tarik.


    "That is why you invited me. I cannot promise much, but the Southern Dwarf Guild will aid you with everything we have."

 Chapter 4 - Why have we come here?

    "I wonder how long have we been walking?¡± Solon mumbled, raising his arm to shield his eyes from the sun while looking at the horizon and the endless sea of sand that stretched underneath it.


    "Pretty long. You can''t even see the temple anymore." Sheela replied, looking back at the direction from which they came. She hopped across the sand, slightly gliding above its searing hot surface between each step.


    "Think we are going to find anything anytime soon?" The mercenary asked.


    "No clue. All I see are dunes. This place used to have lush oases and bustling villages, back when I reigned supreme." The woman grinned and spun around, watching as her makeshift dress fluttered.


    Solon did not grace her with a response, merely waving her off with his right hand, choosing to conserve his words and energy. The sun had already slowly begun to set, as the two wandered the desert. Sheela, though not openly admitting it, was mildly impressed by the soldier''s durability. The man had lost neither his posture nor stride, despite an entire day of walking under the merciless sun. A good distance away from the pair, a slow-moving caravan moved across the dunes, raising a cloud of sand as it went. Solon crouched down, closing his right eye, allowing his prosthetic one to focus in on the caravan.


    "They got big wagons and sheets, don''t seem like bandits. The sheets seem marked with some sort of wiggly line or something, like a double loop."


    "Ugh. Beast folk slavers." Sheela spat onto the ground, at least trying to, as her mouth had gotten as dry as the sand around her.


    "Also, you can see that far from here?"


    "Yeah. The other eye can see thermal, night vision and also be used as a scope. It''s not just to fill the hole in my skull where the real eye used to be." The man replied.


    "So, they clearly have information on where a village might be. They''re heading to one or coming from one, either way, works for us." He continued.


    "How do we go about this? I can act like I had captured you or."


    "I would rather choke to death eating this sand here than have anyone ever think YOU enslaved ME." She scoffed at his proposition, cutting him off mid-sentence.


    "If anything, you are the one with a pet name here, so you act like the captured one. With your mangy appearance and lack of arms, you fit the role perfectly."


    "Up yours bitch." Solon grimaced and flipped the former genie off with his metal arm, before turning in the direction of fast approaching caravan. Clearly whoever had been steering the convoy had noticed the pair and had now changed direction, heading straight towards them.


    "Guess they spotted us," Sheela said.


    "If what you said is true, they won''t bother us much, as we are not beast folk."


    "What''s a beast folk?" The mercenary stood up, watching as the cloud of sand got closer and closer.


    "You''ll see soon enough." She responded nonchalantly.


    ***


    "Helloooo there! What brings a lovely pair such as yourselves this deep in the desert? And on foot no less!" The cheerful leader of the caravan, an elder-looking man of short stature shouted to them, as the caravan came to a halt.


    Solon flashed a smile back to the man while making a mental count of all the guards and their weapons. Surprisingly, the caravan didn''t seem nearly as big as he thought at first and was lightly guarded. No more than 4 guards, no bigger than the old man himself, armed with spears, daggers and dressed in thin cloth armor. Their heads, necks, arms and legs were entirely unprotected, which surprised the soldier, as he expected a slaver caravan to be much better equipped.


    "Where we come from does not matter to either of us, as much as where we are headed," Sheela answered.


    "But worry not, we are not wandering aimlessly."


    "Ah! Pilgrims, I see. Well, my apologies for stopping your holy journey." Smiled the caravan leader, lifting his tattered hat and bowing, his bald head glistening in the light of dusk.


    "Oh, not at all, you came like the gift from the Gods themselves. Would you mind if we humbly ask for directions?" The woman continued, bowing in return.


    "By all means, do ask. If it is villages, you are looking for, to rest and shelter from the desert, there is one not too far from where this caravan is headed. If it is of no offence to your holy practice, I offer you to join my caravan. It would save you a couple of burns on your feet and a few days of travel." The man offered.


    "A delightful offer no doubt. But we have no means of paying back such generosity. Pilgrims aren''t known for an abundance of material possessions after all." The former genie joked, moving her hair out of the way, to better see the man.


    "Hah! That much I know. Believe me, I expect no payment other than an honest prayer for my and my family''s good fortune when you reach your destination. My name is Vur''z. The 4 boneheads in the back trying to look as tough as the king''s guard are my sons. Quilk, Sedef, Hyrul and Kopak."


    The man gestured to his sons, who seemed a bit relaxed, no longer trying to hold in their breaths and their stomachs sucked in.


    "If that is the case, we delightfully accept your offer Vur''z. Come, pet, let''s keep the good folks standing around." Sheela smiled, hopping onto the wagon.


    Solon simply nodded under the hood, saying nothing, but making a mental tally for payback at a later date. He climbed onto the cart, as the caravan began to move again.


    "You have bagged yourself quite the servant my lady. That arm, clearly not of this world. I have been here and there, wherever business takes me, but I have never seen an invader this far south." Said the caravan leader as the woman smiled victoriously, giving occasional glances to the annoyed mercenary.


    As the sun finally sank beneath the endless sea of sand, the caravan slowly making its way across it, Sheela turned to her companion.


    "Human, tell me, how did you end up here in the first place?"


    "I already told you back at the temple," Solon replied.


    "I know, you told me the short version of it. But I want to know the full story. Why have you chosen to invade this world." She continued; the tone of her voice more demanding.


    "Yes, I too would like to know, if you do not mind sharing your tale." Vur''z joined in, unable to resist the allure of a good story.


    The human nodded, leaning against the wall of the wagon.


    "Alright."


    Even the four sons who guarded the caravan got closer to the head wagon to hear the story.


    "As I said before. On my world, thousands of years ago, powerful mages arrived from here, in an expedition of sorts. On this world, they constructed portal gates and have finally managed to open a rift towards somewhere else. Be it elven or human, they came to Earth through these portals. What awaited them was a primitive civilization, no more advanced than using stone tools." Solon spoke.


    "They, with use of magic, quickly gained worship as demigods from these primitive people and ruled over them for a time. But as my world does not have magic, or at least not in the same amount as this one does, they quickly realized that it would not be long until all their power was drained with no way of replenishing it. So the mages began to construct the same portal gates on our world, to link back to theirs, so they could go back home."


    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    "So that''s how the portal gates ended up on your world." Sheela nodded.


    "Yes. Most mages went back to where they came from. Others remained even as their magic disappeared and lived the lives they had built there. Others clung to their demigod status for as long as they could, until they perished. With no way to reactivate the gates from our sides, the structures eventually were abandoned and forgotten by everything except time itself." The soldier explained.


    "But you are here. So, the mages came back?" Vur''z asked.


    "No. Thousands of years passed, but for centuries, many archaeological groups who dedicated themselves to studying ancient civilizations worked to figure out what the gates were for and who made them. Finally, by piecing together the instructions left all across the world, they figured out how the gates worked. Those same instructions the mages gave their followers back when they first constructed the gates."


    The man took a swig from a water pouch, before continuing the story.


    "Eventually, we figured out how to turn them on. But had no clue how to select where they lead. We sent in probes, drones, and when we made sure it was safe enough, people. The first civilization on this side of the gates, that we encountered, were actually the dwarves. The kingdom of Venhket, near the centre of the continent. The dwarves were a lot less cautious than we were, probably because humans exist here too already." Solon told the other two.


    "So, you waged war on them?" Sheela added.


    "No. Shut up." He pointed at her as if he was silencing a toddler, causing her to frown, but say nothing.


    "The relations with the dwarves of Venhket were actually pretty good. Our people and their people even exchanged some goods. To them, we gave some blueprints for slightly outdated mining machinery and equipment and in return, they parted with a few mana stones and a few ingots of their high-quality metal."


    "But the team we sent in could not enjoy the hospitality of the dwarves for too long, as keeping the portal gate open for an extended period of time, required enough energy to power an entire small city. So, they made each other promises to meet again soon, and to bring the dwarven representatives to our world next."


    "So, your first encounter with the people here was quite pleasant, I see. Why the invasion then?" Vur''z asked.


    "I''m getting to it." Said the human.


    "When our team came back, the things they brought with them were enough to get many world governments and trade conglomerates involved. The mana stones, which are one of the reasons this world is so packed with magic, are a source of clean energy unlike any other. It even rivalled our nuclear energy in terms of use. The only issue was that in our world, it would bleed that energy everywhere, turning the mana stone into a nice decorative rock in a matter of a few days. No matter what type of container you put it in, it would deplete on its own in a few days. That issue was mitigated by Doramite."


    "I see." The caravan leader snapped his fingers.


    "The dwarven ingot."


    "Yeah. Keeping a mana stone in a container made of Doramite would significantly increase its lifespan. Not to mention that Doramite was a metal as light as titanium alloy, but more durable than anything we have back on Earth. Non-conductive and an incredibly high melting point." Solon nodded.


    "Doramite was made by the dwarves to combat dragons after all. Its resistance to fire is to be expected." Vur''z added.


    "With those two priceless finds, the agreement was made to the second delegation to be sent back to Venhket to establish even better relationships with the dwarves. But as I said before, we could open the portal but had no clue which portal on this side it would connect to. The second delegation ended up in the Vatur kingdom, through a massive portal gate just outside their forest. The elves were not as friendly as the dwarves." The man shrugged.


    "I always believed elves to be a peaceful race, keeping to themselves most of the time." One of the sons chimed in, his head peeking through the curtain of the wagon.


    "Manners boy!" His father grabbed what seemed to be a ball of string and threw it at the guard half-heartedly.


    "Do not interrupt a man when he is telling a story. Plus, you are thinking of High Elves. The regular ones just have a superiority complex."


    "That they do." Smiled the mercenary, probably for the first time since they joined the caravan.


    "Here, the elves seem to call the shots, somewhat at least, as their magic is unparalleled by most neighbouring species. Negotiations with them did not go as well as expected."


    "How come? Humans and Elves are quite the allies." Vur''z rubbed his chin quizzically as if trying to find the answer before the man could provide one.


    "Humans here have a lot of different species to coexist with and their civilization is helped by magic. We are both humans, but compared to them, we may as well be orcs. They coexist with their world and its creatures, we dominated ours into submission. We fought for centuries over things that humans here would consider stupid. And we are a lot more prone to war. So, our diplomacy is very tailor-made to us, logically. No threats or mockery or many demands. Everything gets voted on with the aim of achieving a balance. Have both sides at a neutral point, at the very least. It took us centuries to get to that point, but oh well." The man clapped his hands together as if dismissing any accusations or opinions that could be made about that last sentence.


    "But for the elves, who have not gone or felt war in millennia, your form of negotiation and diplomacy came off as weak and timid. Am I right?" Sheela said.


    "Yep, right on the money. The Elves felt insulted by the entire ordeal and the fact that the delegation sent to establish a good relationship with them had no magic whatsoever, gave them the impression that they were far superior to us. They rudely refused any deals and even denied the delegation their request to leave. Now, on my world, killing or imprisoning a political representative or an ambassador is grounds for war, if not an open declaration of one." Solon continued.


    "So the elves decided to show off their might and invite themselves over into our world. Thinking their superior magic would make us easy to subjugate. For the first time in thousands of years, a portal gate on our world came to life and opened from the other side, to send several elven units over."


    "Good Gods. I cannot imagine the fear of having an invading nation appear in the middle of your towns and cities with the intention of conquering them. I feel sorry for your people, human. Many lives must have been lost." The old man said, bowing his head to show condolences.


    "How many did they kill before they got pushed back?" The former genie asked.


    "None." Replied the human.


    "None? How come? Were you expecting them?" She asked, surprised by the answer.


    "No. The gates have been constructed during the dawn of humanity. They served no purpose besides being an object of fascination for historians, archaeologists and tin foil-wearing nutjobs. The gates are scattered around the world, in forgotten locations mostly. Unlike here, where people had built entire cities and temples around the gates, over in my world, they sort of just collect dust in the middle of nowhere." Solon explained.


    "Huh, guess it makes sense. So did the elven troops just get stranded somewhere?" Vur''z asked, chuckling a bit.


    "Yeah, the gate they opened linked to the one in the Northern region of Europe. It wasn''t a massive gate like the ones near Vatur or Venhket, so the energy signature of its activation took a few days to elicit a response. Plus, it was in the heart of Siberia, so no one really gave a shit anyways. By the time the Russians actually responded and went to investigate, the winter had already sunk its teeth into the elven soldiers. Wolves too." The mercenary laughed a bit.


    "Uf, can''t imagine the elves took that well." One of the guards chimed in, this time out of range of his father''s throw.


    "They didn''t. But their little unsuccessful attack attempt, made us realize that gates can be open from their side too. On top of that, we still haven''t had our delegation returned to us, so we assumed them dead and with this, the world unanimously agreed to accept the elven declaration of war. A huge amount of resources had been given to research teams to find out everything they could about the gates. In about a year''s time, with no incident, we''ve found a way to keep the gates open and stable for up to 24 hours. We also learned, to some degree, how to link gates together, so we don''t end up at random locations each time. Thanks to the elven failed attempt in Russia, we''ve discovered several more gates across the globe and with that, war was officially the name of the game."


    "Huh, quite the interesting situation," Sheela said as Solon finished the explanation.


    "How long since the invasion started?"


    "It''s been a little under a year now. At first, we only sent in small recon troops and ground units. Humvees and the like. No aerial combat units. Maybe a few long-range artilleries. OH, yeah. And a single long-range, ground anchored, rail cannon." He replied.


    "Not really fast in terms of progress."


    "Boy!" Yelled Vur''z to his son, looking around for something more solid to throw at him this time. "Keep your mouth shut."


    "Well, we still can''t send too much through the gates at once, plus this isn''t an annihilation scenario. Elves are sentient enough and on par with humans, and there are domestic humans from allied kingdoms aiding them. And by rules of war and human rights, we aren''t really... allowed... to uh. What''s the word? Cleanse them from the land." Solon replied to the guard who made the comment.


    "Fucked world you live in if you need rules of war." Another son said, joining in on the conversation.


    "Cheers to that." Nodded Solon, raising his left fist into the air.


    "Well, I am getting tired. Been a long day of walking and I could use some sleep." The former genie said, moving to the back of the wagon, laying down on some decorated carpets, arranging them like a makeshift bed.


    "You boys chatter on, but do be quiet."


    Vur''z turned to Solon, scooting over closer to him.


    "Are you really her...?"


    Solon turned to the man, closing his eyes and slowly shaking his head from left to right.


    "Ah, I thought as much." said the old man, giving a light chuckle.

 Chapter 5 - Across the sands and below the earth

    A blood-curdling scream pierced the night. Solon jumped to his feet, reaching for his hatchet, looking around the wagon as another howl echoed out across the sands. Sheela was also now awake, moving over to Solon while crouching.


    "What the hell is that?"


    The mercenary poked his head through the curtain of the wagon, tracing the sounds back to the other cart in the caravan, one hauling the merchandise.


    The four guards were poking their spears through the bars of the cage, angrily using the blunt ends to push and jab at a small creature. Solon and Sheela exited the main wagon to better see what was going on.


    "You two! Go back inside, there''s nothing to see here." Kopak turned to them, barding out the order.


    "Easy now son, don''t be rude to our guests," Vur''z said, walking past the pair while talking to his son.


    "They must have been quite startled by the noise."


    With a snap of his fingers, the old man lit a small lantern that hung by the cage, illuminating what was inside. Solon leaned forward, squinting his eyes to see better what was moving under the flickering light. A pair of piercing green eyes stared back at him. He could make out a tail and some ears, nothing out of the ordinary, until what he thought to be a large cat stood up on its hind legs.


    "So that''s a beast person?" The mercenary concluded, looking at the creature with slight aversion.


    "Every basement dweller¡¯s fantasy."


    "They exist on your world too?" The former genie asked.


    "No, just as folk tales, legends. Fiction." The man replied as the creature went from howling frantically to speaking.


    It stuck its head through the wooden bars, waving its hands and tail around, yelling something at the man. Solon looked at it, confused, as he did not understand a word that was being said. By the sound of the voice though, he could deduce that the creature was a young boy and not a fully grown beast person.


    "Alright little one, that''s enough out of you for tonight," Vur''z said, waving his hand in front of the boy''s face.


    "Sleep now."


    The beast child backed away, but the spell had already been cast, causing it to slowly stumble until it collapsed on the floor of the wagon.


    "Well, now I know why an old man and four would-be guards can make a living as slavers." Solon chuckled.


    "Adult beastfolk are impossible to train. They follow only those they believe are stronger than them, and they are freakishly strong, so not many people outside their own tribes can command them. That''s why there are very few beastfolk who can be royal servants, soldiers, or guards." The old slaver explained.


    "They are only good for gladiatorial combat. But only if you train one before they reach adolescence, then they can be moulded into serving just about any purpose." Sedef added, as his father proudly nodded.


    "I see. So, what will become of this one?" Sheela asked, folding her arms.


    "No clue. We acquire them and sell them further. The thought never crosses my mind as to where they end up, I don''t think my conscience could handle it." Vur''z grinned at his own, before patting Solon and Sheela on their backs.


    "The sun will soon rise, and we are all already awake, so what do you two say we get this caravan back on the move?" He asked, and the pair agreed, making their way back to the main wagon.


    ***


    "Shit. They have barricaded themselves too well in there." One of the dungeon-clearing squad members cussed.


    "What''s the situation?" Clyde, who was sitting on the floor, back against the wall, looked up at the woman as she returned from the hallway that led to the next dungeon floor.


    Clyde''s squad had reached the fifth floor of the dungeon with expert proficiency. Somewhere after the third floor, they stopped taking prisoners regardless of race, which resulted in a one-sided bloodbath of various monsters and adventurers alike. On the fifth floor, they decided to make a small makeshift camp, to rest after driving the goblins that re-emerged back to their burrows. Their progress had been halted by a party of platinum adventurers who were tasked with guarding the next floor below.


    Within the ranking system of many guilds across the continent, platinum adventurers were considered the highest tier of freelancers in the adventuring business. Though there were a few higher ranks than platinum, adventurers of that tier were most often employed as guards to many various royal families or were made into a private militia, again under the employment of royalty or extremely wealthy businessmen. Despite being considered adventurers still, they rarely abided by the regulations and code of conduct of their respected guilds and gravitated more towards following the orders of their employers.


    Platinum-rank adventurers were the highest tier of adventurers who still functioned as freelance parties or individuals.


    Clyde didn''t feel like they were any issue to his unit, however, they did possess magic that had proven a nuisance. A mage in the party guarding the sixth floor had the ability to manifest various defences and had used that power to create multiple gates at the very entrance to the chamber. Realizing that they will run out of explosives to tear down walls way before the mage runs out of mana to spam the same spell over and over, Clyde has decided to call in for backup, sending one of his men to the surface, as long-range communication did not work in the dungeon, at the depth that they were.


    He now sat on the ground of the fifth floor, helmet resting by his side, while he smoked.


    "We can''t get in there." Said one of the soldiers, approaching him.


    "I mean, we could, but they are pretty well prepared and since that''s the only entrance, we would end up in a bottleneck and that''ll lead to unnecessary casualties."


    "I know, relax. Have a doobie." Clyde grinned, offering the man his smoke.


    "Oh shit, don''t mind if I DO." The other man grinned and sat down, taking a long inhale from the joint.


    "How''d you even smuggle this past the outpost control?"


    "Man, those bastards don''t check for shit once I''m inside this armour. I have so much weed on the inside of this thing, If I get blown up, the whole dungeon will be hallucinating for weeks." The huge man tapped on his chest plate and laughed.


    The two rowdy men attracted the attention of another comrade of theirs. The man put down his handheld monitor and walked over to them.


    "What the fuck are you two doing?"


    "Smoking, why?" Answered Clyde.


    "What are we going to do about the sixth floor?" The guy standing over them asked.


    "Jeremy, baby relax. I got it all covered." His armoured comrade blew him a kiss and laughed.


    "I called in for backup, that''ll take care of everything. Now come hit this while we wait."


    ***


    "Ugh... Gods." Quinn huffed, leaning on her staff while chugging a mana potion, face frowning at the bitter taste.


    "I think they finally stopped trying to breach"


    "You alright?" Filtz patted her on the back. The paladin looked up, checking on the rest of his party.


    "Everybody else alright?"


    The remaining members of the party all raised their hands, signalling that everyone was alive and standing.


    "Damn elves, they did not tell us we would be going up against such a force. While they hide on the last floor no less!" The party¡¯s fighter, a stocky dwarf, spoke up while spitting on the ground.


    "Typical of those long-eared wimps."


    "Shut up." Quinn angrily said, not taking kindly to the dwarf¡¯s insulting of her people.


    "We were paid well for this job. Are you not an adventurer? If you dislike this, maybe you should retire instead and get paid to sit around and mould."


    "Quinn, relax. I''m sure he meant nothing bad by it." Said the party''s tank. The large ogre woman walked over to the exhausted elf, casting a recuperation buff on her.


    "Did they really back off?" Belam''Bal asked Filtz, while still casting her spell on Quinn, who had already started to feel less shaky and exhausted.


    "I don''t know. Rin! Anything outside the gate?" The paladin asked.


    From the dark, behind the rest of the party, one of the three assassins replied.


    "Yeah, they seem to have backed off. I sense no one near the entrance."


    "Perhaps they have gone to lick their wounds. Or maybe they have run out of supplies. Their weapons aside, they did not seem equipped to stay down here for long. We can probably wait them out like this." The dwarf cackled.


    "And have me do all the heavy lifting to keep the entrance sealed." Quinn rolled her eyes.


    The party settled down, deciding to rest as much as they could before the next breach attempt by the invaders. Tension seemed to die down as a few hours passed without a single movement on the other side of the sealed-off entrance.


    "Told you, they must have realized we''re not letting them in without a fight and gave up." Laughed the warrior.


    "They are no match for Quinn''s magic!" Belam''Bal patted the elf on the back.


    "Wait. I sense movement." Yu, the second of the three assassins said, grabbing everyone''s attention.


    "The goblins in the area are decreasing in number rapidly," Rin added to her brother''s statement.


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    "Hah! They must be so angry at their loss; they are taking it out on the goblins." The dwarf said, slapping his knee.


    "There is someone on the other side of the gate. A single person by the feel of it." Said Jan, the third of the party''s assassins. Each of the three siblings was blessed with powerful detection magic, capable of sensing things even through objects and behind walls.


    "Just one guy? Maybe they want to surrender? Think it''s a trap?" Belam looked at the paladin, who shook his head and shrugged in response.


    "Yes. There is no one else present anywhere near, it seems he is alone." Rin''s answer was interrupted by a faint knock on the stone gate, coming from the other side.


    Cautiously, with weapons drawn, Flitz told the elf mage to lower the gate, but be ready to cast it again immediately. The elf nodded and did as she was told. To the party''s surprise, a black man stood on the other side. He wore the uniform of the invaders, with slight modifications such as decorative furs and feathers that matched the green of the uniform. Filtz noticed something hanging off the man''s hip and quickly identified the object to be a Kobold skull, clearly taken as some sort of trophy.


    The man took a single step into the chamber, flashing the party an honest smile. His stature in no way matched his overwhelming confidence, which lacked any sign of fear or worry, considering he was no taller than the party''s dwarf warrior.


    "What do you want?" Filtz asked.


    The man seemed to be glad that someone present spoke a language he could understand and locked eyes with Flitz.


    "I have come here to tell you that you are surrounded."


    Everyone stood in silence, baffled at what the man had just said.


    "Surrounded?" Quinn whispered, looking over at the assassins.


    Before she could get an answer, the man continued.


    "Since we just had an appetizer, I want to offer you one chance to surrender. Give up and I will let you leave here alive and in one piece. No harm. No foul."


    ***


    "Sir, sir, wake up. The reinforcements are here." A soldier nudged Clyde with her foot as he lay passed out on the floor.


    The short black man pushed past her, stomping on Clyde''s ribs, as he was laying on his side.


    "Wake up, ya bastard!" He shouted with a heavy Cameroonian accent.


    "Auuuugghhh... yeah, yeah, I''m up." Groaned the head of the unit as he got up to his feet, rubbing his bloodshot eyes. He took a deep inhale, hoping the stale dungeon air would clear away the fog in his head. Groggily looking down, a huge smile appeared on the man''s face.


    "Shaka Zulu! Glad you could join us, all the way down here." Clyde laughed, patting the small man on the shoulder.


    "Clyde, I see your humour is still as shit as the rest of you." The single-person reinforcement replied with an equally big smile.


    The other two men who were passed out on the floor woke up from the noise and slowly started getting up to their feet.


    "So, this is our reinforcement? A pygmy?" Jeremy chuckled, looking down at Clyde''s friend.


    The black man looked at him, his confidence unimpacted by the comment.


    "You will find me more than enough."


    The armoured behemoth shot a quick glare at Jeremy, causing the latter to look down and quickly head somewhere else in the camp to help the rest of the unit with preparations. They hauled in large, heavy, metal boxes as per the short man''s orders, leaving them very close to where the exit to the fifth floor met the hallway that led to the floor below it. Soft huffing and noise could be heard from inside the containers, as Marcel walked over to the front, signaling to the rest of the unit to move a healthy distance away.


    "So, what''s in the cages?" Jeremy asked Clyde, observing as the other man tampered with what looked like a remote to the containers.


    "Gungams." Replied Clyde, his comrade looking up at him with confusion.


    "Marcel is to beasts what Cesar Millan is to dogs." The behemoth in combat armour continued his explanation as the remote beeped and all ten containers simultaneously opened.


    Jeremy shone a flashlight in Marcel''s direction to better see what was going on, as the darkness in the hallway made it nearly impossible to see. The soldier stood frozen in his tracks, watching massive lizard-like beasts emerge from the containers, sniffing the air and crawling around Marcel. The short, dark-skinned soldier did not seem worried in the slightest, actually seeming glad and happy to be around those creatures.


    Each of the ten lizards seemed equal in size, 5 feet from the head to the tail at least. Their arms and backs were covered in thick scales, the ones on their backs being the size of diner plates and overlapping. Arm scales seemed equally thick but smaller to keep mobility. Their tails ended with two dorsal plates, but horizontal, giving the tails the appearance of a double-sided axe swinging side to side. They moved slowly, having only one pair of limbs, that being their arms. As the soldier stood in shock, one of the creatures turned towards the source of the light that was shone. Clyde quickly grabbed his comrade by the wrist, snatching the flashlight away from him.


    "They dislike artificial light. So, don''t do that." He said, letting go of Jeremy''s wrist.


    The soldier still stood stunned, as the creature''s attention turned back to Marcel, the image of the lizard''s face forever etched into his memory. Its head was torpedo-shaped, bone plating covering it like a helmet, connecting to the neck and back plates. 2 pairs of eyes, one eye on each side like the snakes and lizards of Earth, the other pair sitting atop the head, facing directly forward. It was unlike anything he had ever seen.


    Marcel whistled once, snapping Jeremy out of his trance and getting the attention of his pets. He pulled something out of his pouch and let the creatures get a good sniff. With a second whistle, the lizards moved uncharacteristically fast, lunging at the walls and ceiling of the hallway and burrowing into them. Silence ensued, soon followed by muffled and distant screeching of the goblins in their nearby burrows.


    "Huh, I guess some goblins did survive." One of the other soldiers commented nonchalantly.


    "What the fuck are those?" Jeremy muttered under his breath.


    "Told you, Gungams. Cave-dwelling predators from this world. Everything from their webbed claws to the shape of their head and scales is designed to have them glide through the ground like they''re swimming. They use their arms to clear the way and move forward, while their long bodies use motion similar to snakes to move fast. Pretty tough to kill too, those plates are thick as shit, damn near bulletproof to standard calibre. Even lower calibre ammo piercing rounds struggle against them. Their underbellies are soft, but good luck flipping one of those nimble bastards on their backs." Clyde explained.


    "I have no clue where Marcel found them, let alone how he got them doing tricks." He added.


    "If they''re underground, why do they need 2 sets of eyes?" Clyde''s comrade asked.


    "I don''t really know. According to Marcel, they use the eyes on the side to see, like our reptiles. The eyes up front to mesmerize and entrance a larger opponent or bigger prey, while the rest of the pack moved in from the side to kill. So yeah, do not look them dead in the eyes. Don''t look at them directly at all, those things are always itching to beef."


    With his explanation finished, Clyde raised his right hand, making a circling motion with his index finger, giving the unit the order to start packing up as they were about to head out soon. Jeremy took one more glance at the now silent hallway, but Marcel was already gone, making his way to the sixth floor to deal with the party that was barricaded there.


    ***


    Everybody stared confused at the dark-skinned soldier standing at the entrance to the sixth floor. He did not seem very armoured or armed. Even if he was carrying a hidden weapon, the party knew there was little to no chance he would be able to do anything before Quinn''s magic or the assassins took him out. But for some reason, his words carried the weight only irrefutable truths do, when he told them they are surrounded.


    "Rin, Yu, Jan! Observe the area again, this time as far as you can, include the walls and ceiling too." Ordered Filtz, never taking his eyes off the enemy soldier.


    "Surrounded? You must be mad. There is no way they would be able to dig through this much earth in such a short time. Plus, we''d hear them." Said Belam''Bal, looking from one party member to another, seeking someone to agree with her.


    The paladin opened his mouth to speak when the clamour, the tale-tale sound of steel hitting stone, echoed from the side. He turned to the source, only to be met with Rin, kneeling on the ground, staring up at a spot in the ceiling. She had dropped her dagger, her arms hanging limply at her side in utter surrender.


    "Right there... There is a lizard, right above me." She whispered, never taking her eyes off the spot above, tears welling in her eyes.


    "There are lizards all around us. Burrowing through the soil." Jan answered as Quinn rushed over to Rin, trying to snap her out of her daze.


    "Gungams." The dwarf said, exhaling in defeat and taking a step towards the enemy soldier, axe in hand.


    "What are y-?" The party''s tank reached out to stop him, but the dwarf already had his mindset.


    "There is no chance we can survive this, let alone fight the beasts off." The warrior continued, looking Marcel dead in the eyes.


    Although the invader did not understand a single word of dwarven language, he got the message loud and clear. The dwarf dropped his axe to the ground and raised his hands high, palms pointing outwards.


    "I surrender."


    "You coward!" Quinn hissed, snapping her head to face the dwarf, glaring at him furiously. "It is so like you to abandon something as soon as the going gets tough."


    "I have been paid to defend the dungeon, not leave my bones in it."


    The dwarf replied, walking over to the enemy and turning around to face his comrades.


    He looked at the paladin, begging him without a word to listen to reason and surrender.


    Even though dwarves never had a habit of expressing their feelings, he did not wish to see them die.


    "I agree." The ogre woman sighed, dropping her spiked club next to the dwarf''s axe.


    "We have been paid in advance and quite a hefty sum at that. But to defend the sixth floor of this dungeon. We failed at that. Even if we fight and die here, that outcome will not change. Please, Filtz, I know you have plenty of reasons not to die here."


    "Anyone else?" The paladin asked, though his mind was set on an answer the second the dwarf put his axe down.


    The three siblings threw their assassin''s daggers onto the pile and went to stand next to their comrades. Filtz sighed, somewhat glad at the decision they had made. He turned and looked at the elf mage, the only one still hesitant to lay down her staff.


    "What, what if he still kills us after we surrender? We can''t guarantee that." She shouted, pointing her finger at Marcel, who had leaned against the edge of the hallway, already bored with the display.


    "He might. But if there is even a small chance that we can walk out of here alive, I will take that gamble." The party leader answered, sheathing his blade back into its scabbard and extending his hand to Quinn. The mage looked down at her feet, before taking his hand and joining the group.


    The black man looked up at them.


    "So? I take it you surrender?"


    "Y-yeah. We surrender." Flitz answered, avoiding the man''s gaze despite being significantly taller than him.


    The party''s hearts collectively sank as Marcel frowned at their answer bit, before shrugging.


    "A disappointing answer, but a very expected one. I am a man of my word. Leave."


    Without another word, he turned around and walked back up the hallway, letting out another short whistle as he went. Gungams burst through the walls and ceiling of the hallway and followed their master obediently, never once glancing back at the stunned party, that up until a few minutes ago could have been their meal.


    Not stopping to think or reflect on the situation, the adventurers quickly grabbed their discarded weapons and bolted up the hallway, running past Clyde and his unit who began to descend from floor five to floor six, running all the way to the exit of the dungeon.


    ***


    Solon was overjoyed when a small village peeked from behind the dunes. It was far from what he would consider a developed settlement, but at this point, he did not care at all.


    Soon, the caravan slowed to a halt, just in front of what seemed like a market of sorts, and everybody stepped out.


    "Thank you again Vur''z, for sharing your wagon and supplies with us."


    Solon said to the caravan leader, bowing his head slightly.


    "Thank the two of you, for sharing stories and a good time with us."


    Vur''z replied, bowing back.


    The caravan moved once more, leaving the pair behind and disappearing around the corner.


    "Well, Sheela. It has been an... experience." Solon said, extending his good hand to the former genie.


    "Oh, don''t get ahead of yourself mortal. We are not on equal ground just because YOU believe you outsmarted me. I am the Goddess of the Sands!" She scoffed, looking down on him, partially due to her superior height, partially due to her over-superior ego. Arms crossed and resting on her chest, it was evident she would not reciprocate his show of good faith. A few passersby turned their heads at her loud statement, before moving on with their business.


    Solon closed and retracted his hand, making a clicking sound with his mouth.


    "Oooo-kay then."


    Before he could turn away, he stopped for a second, one last question on his mind.


    "You speak a lot of languages. Do you know what that beast thing was yelling at me before Vur''z knocked it cold?"


    She raised an eyebrow, rubbing her chin. Solon wasn''t sure if she was trying to remember or if she was trying to decide whether to tell him or not.


    "It thought you were an adventurer and mentioned something about having a big reward for its safe return or something like that. Saying its parents are adventurers too, I believe. Too late now though."


    "Yeah." Solon nodded.


    "Well, so long Sheela, best wishes with your new life."


    "Hah! I don''t need wishes. I will amass a following and usher new rule of power and prosperity." She proclaimed boldly, garnering some more attention from the vendors and onlookers.


    "Great. Looking forward to it. I''m sure your reign will bring even more sand to this desert."


    Replied Solon, before nodding and walking away, quickly blending into the crowd. He moved at a brisk pace, making sure to get out of earshot before she could retort, relishing in having the final word. Sheela ground her teeth, before swiftly turning on her bare heels and walking away in the opposite direction. Both quickly got swallowed up by the marketplace crowd, never once turning back as they parted ways.

 Chapter 6 - White Maiden

    The realization that having the final word may have been bitter-sweet had begun to dawn on Solon, as he sat on a low brick wall near a well at the center of the market. Clearly, people like Vur''z and Sheela, those that spoke English, were hard to come across. On top of the language barrier, the mercenary had another issue. Money. His world or this one, coins were words everyone knew. And he had none of those either.


    He tried to hire a guide or ask for directions out of the desert, but the mouths of the villagers were as dry as his pockets. Roaming around the village, trying to avoid attention while pondering his next move, he noticed a good number of people going in and out of a small saloon styled building. The words written on the sign in front were unintelligible to Solon, but from his knowledge of this world, the chances of it being a guild or an adventurer agency of some sort were pretty high.


    Pushing the doors open, strolling into the main room with the stride of an Old Western gunslinger, Solon threw away any attempts of staying under the radar.


    Every head turned to him, analyzing and studying the man that walked through the door, eyes lingering on his prosthetic left arm. The soldier walked over to what he had assumed was the main desk, and before he could even open his mouth to speak, the beastfolk woman on the other side interrupted him.


    "Igilin! Abatu, pa''ta marez lof." She spoke, he ears perking up and her tail moving around welcomingly.


    She was a jackal like creature, from what Solon could tell and her hyper behavior confirmed that.


    Her voice was high pitched, assaulting the man¡¯s ears with a relentless slew of words he could not understand. The speed of her talk took him down memory lane, reminding him of a toy phone he had a kid, one that made random noises when he''d press a button or say "I love you" at 10 times the speed.


    The guild woman kept on talking, now pulling out charts and several guide books, pointing her clawed finger and flipping pages. Solon exhaled loudly, before giving her the thumbs up with his good hand and turning to leave, when something caught his eye. A bullet board on the other side of the room, covered all over with countless quest requests and offers. One paper stood out from the bunch. A large drawing of a beastfolk child, along with several scribbled under which was a nice coin offer. To the mercenary, it was common knowledge that two things were universal on any world. Bounty posters and missing people posters. And this one was of the latter.


    He pulled the poster off the board, looking over it once more. The offer indeed was enough to entice any man, just by the number of zeros written on the page. Solon looked up at the sky as if thanking God for the intervention. He''d seed the person on the poster before, the screaming beastfolk boy that Vur''z was transporting in his caravan. Clearly whoever the boy was taken from would pay a pretty penny to have him back. Something did bother him about the situation however. With an offer so lucrative, the was no chance the poster would be left hung for that long without anyone taking on the bounty. Vur''z sons were strong young men, but they were far from an issue when it came to a group of adventurers. That odd suspicion was further solidified by all the stares the man felt drilling into his back. The guild patrols gave him dirty looks as he rolled up the poster and stuck it under his cloak, in his back pocket and went back out on the street to find Vur''z.


    Solon wandered the village until sundown, until he finally stumbled across the resting spot for trade caravans.


    He was hungry and quite in a sour mood, walking over to the wagons without a word.


    Sedef spotted him first, sending his 3 brothers to go and fetch their father while he tried to deal with the mercenary.


    "Solon! Nice seeing you again so soon." Sedef said, walking over to the man.


    "Where''s your old man Sedef?" Solon asked, walking past the guard.


    "He went to fetch supplies from the market. Shouldn''t be long before he''s back." The young man replied.


    "Would you like to wait for him here?"


    The young man felt uneasy, his own inability to simply tell the mercenary to piss off didn''t sit well with him.


    He was the best hand to hand combatant in his little village, but even with that, Sedef knew that if he were to swing at the soldier, it would end badly. So he swallowed his pride and decided on a more friendly approach.


    "Yeah, if you don''t mind." Solon sat down, his stomach growling with hunger.


    The two men sat in awkward silence for a while, before finally Vur''z appeared around the corner.


    "Ah, Solon. I see Lady Sheela is not with you. What can I do you for?" Spoke the slaver.


    With his mechanical arm, the soldier pulled out the poster and showed it to Vur''z. The other one seemed oddly relieved.


    "Oh, you''re here for that? Sad to say I already handed him over."


    Solon sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose in frustration.


    "So, where is it?"


    "Come have dinner with us. If you''re serious about getting the kid, you''ll need some info about where he''s been taken and by who first." Vur''z patted the man on the back, inviting him to the wagon.


    ***


    "What''s the situation?"


    The elven scout turned around swiftly, almost jumping out of his own skin from fright.


    "My Lady." He placed his hand on his chest to calm his heartbeat. "I beg of you, do not sneak up on me that way."


    General Eirlys hid a smile, before focusing her eyes towards the squad of invaders walking through the woods, setting up a defense perimeter. The Vatur kingdom has been struggling with containing the invading humans, especially when it came to portal control. Having multiple wild portal gates just outside the borders of the elven forest made it very hard to prevent humans from breaching from the other side.


    Countless skirmishes had broken out since the humans first captured the largest portal and make it their outposts. The Iron Fortress that blew a hole through the, now almost fully healed, Home Tree still stood tall and was heavily protected. The smaller gates were less guarded so the elves managed to take those back within a few months, as the invading murder apes seemed not too keen on dying over those strategic points.


    However, it seemed that the enemy had now set their sight on the second largest gate and begun turning it into an outpost. The worked tirelessly, day and night, fending off occasional elven raid parties sent by the Vatur kingdom with ease. The motion detecting turrets proved to be the biggest issue that elves could not overcome. As soon as they would get within range, even under the cover of night, the machines would mercilessly shower them with bullets until they were gunned down.


    Desperate, Princess Claudia requested the presence of the kingdoms most decorated general, Eirlys Atteris. A warrior known for her outstanding strategic prowess, merciless approach to combat and the ability to turn even the spineless of elves into soldiers worthy of serving the kingdom. Within weeks of her arrival, she managed to push the expansion of the murder ape outpost back within range of their turrets and lock them in a stalemate. That gave the elven troops enough morale boost to believe that victory was possible. However, to the general, the behavior of the enemy told a completely opposite story. The human invaders seemed too content to stay within the confines of the stalemate and not expand the outpost further, as they have been doing thus far. Even their establishing of defense perimeters seemed to be oriented around doubling, if not tripling the defenses of the already established outposts borders rather than a preparation for a counter assault.


    "They seem to be doubling the defenses again. This is the third day in the row that they turn the portal on. The reinforcements coming through however aren''t really numerous. If they are mounting a counter attack, they will need a lot more manpower than this, even with their equipment, to breach into the forest." The scout replied.


    "Something doesn''t sit right with me about this entire thing." Eirlys thought to herself.


    The humans seemed to be moving around, tinkering on some stationary devices, hooking them up to the portal. Most of them that came through the gate didn''t even seem like military personnel, if uniform and lack of weaponry was something to based such an opinion on.


    "My Lady." A tap on the shoulder interrupted the general from her train of thought.


    "Permission to speak freely?"


    "Go ahead."


    "I am Amara Lindwysp, I served under Lord Eothen and Lady Claudia." Said the scout.


    "And?" Replied the general.


    "I have seen this before. The night his Majesty lost his life and her Majesty her legs." Amara continued.


    "These people aren''t soldiers, they are..." She searched her mind for the right word. "Engineers."


    "Engineers?" The other scout butted in.


    "Yes. That''s what the murder apes call them. They are in charge of the equipment. They were there the night the Iron Fortress breached the gate."


    "The Iron Fortress..." Mumbled the general, turning her gaze back to the encampment, observing the humans work and set up various equipment.


    "But this gate is too small for another Iron Fortress to pass through."


    "That may be so my Lady, but the devices they are setting up are designed to generate massive amounts of energy to keep the gate open for an extended period of time. I cannot be certain what they are up to, but they are priming that portal to be open for a while. Divines only know what sort of contraption they plan on ushering through it." Amara said.


    The look on the scout¡¯s face gave the general everything she needed to know about the gravity of the situation. There was not a single lie in the girl¡¯s words. Something like this should not be dismissed.


    "So, what are we to do? You''ve been there. Tell me." Eirlys said, catching the girl off guard.


    "Oh uhm. I don''t believe I am fit to advise you on what our best course of action is my Lady." The elf replied, losing her composure for a second.


    "Not the time for humility or modesty Amara Lindwysp!" The general said coldly. "You''ve been there. You best know what went wrong with the assault on the Iron Fortress. Now, for the sake of the kingdom and your comrades, speak."


    Amara took a deep breath, steeling herself.


    "The devices that shoot, they follow movements. Even through rain and fog. Illusion spells don''t work them either. If we get in range, they will mow us down before we even can get off a single arrow."


    "That I am well aware of. Tell me something that I can actually use."


    "Yes, yes, my apologies. Hitting them with explosive spells from outside of their range should do the trick, as they do not appear to track any movement that isn''t actual enemy troops. They do not seem to be activated by arrows that fly past them, nor birds or any other critters I''ve noticed move within their range." The scout continued, trying her best to remember everything she knows about the enemy.


    "Devices they are setting up, they''re the ones keeping the portal gate open for a long time. If we take out those, it should close before they pull whatever they plan to, through the gate. And I don''t see..." She focused her eyes on the encampment, as if searching for something amidst the enemy.


    "...any warhounds."


    "Warhounds?" Eirlys raised an eyebrow quizzically.


    "Yes, my Lady. It was a one-armed, one-eyed human that ended the life of Prince Eothen that night. It had a metal left arm. Apparently, those soldiers are called war hounds and are here to exterminate the local population before the larger troops can move in."


    "Gods, what a barbaric species. You''d think them demons in human skin, rather than actual humans." The other scout said in shock.


    "I see. Do not omit anything scout." The general added.


    "That is all I know my Lady." Amara bowed her head.


    ***


    "So, the gladiatorial arena?" Solon asked, leaning against the wall of the wagon.


    With his stomach full of food, the mood of the man improved significantly. Vur''z nodded.


    "Yes. But don''t think you can just whisk the kid away. The arena is situated under the village and it''s a pay to enter type of deal. Steep price indeed." Explained the slaver.


    "And you, my friend, stick out like a sore thumb in these parts. There isn''t a single human in this village, much less one with your description. Whispers are going around already, about you taking the poster and accepting the quest to find the missing kid by doing so."


    The human nodded, rubbing his beard with his good hand.


    "And the event orchestrator has a lot of financial influence over the adventurers that are regulars in this village. So, keep your head on a swivel else you might a dagger to the back." The old man warned.


    "I see. Well, Vur''z, I''d best be heading now. I''d have for you and your sons to catch strays because of me. Just point me in the right direction and I''ll be on my way."


    Solon got up, shook the man¡¯s hand and dusted off his pants and cloak.


    "They are at the Crooked Claw''s inn. In the basement, that''s where the underground arena is and also where the gladiators are being kept." Vur''z replied, shaking the human¡¯s hand in return.


    "I wish you the best of luck."


    As solon turned to leave, Kopak stopped him.


    If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    "Here, take this. It''s not much, but it''ll be of use to you, I hope."


    The slaver trader¡¯s son handed an old hatchet to Solon. A simple bone handle with an obsidian blade.


    The mercenary accepted the gift and placed it on his belt, it would be of use more than just to rely on hand-to-hand combat and his metal arm.


    "Thanks kid. You boys don''t give your old man too hard of a time. So long."


    With that, the soldier headed down the street and disappeared out of sight once he rounded a corner.


    ***


    The entire village seemed devoid of life once the sun went down. As the ringed moon illuminated the empty streets, Solon could not help but feel watched. He did not even try to confirm if the feeling was true, knowing that playing oblivious would give his stalker more window to slip up. Following directions given by Vur''z, he eventually found Crooked Claw''s Inn. The place was crowded, mostly with adventurers and some village folk, though something about them seemed odd. A good number of them, including the barmaids, seemed to survey the surroundings at regular intervals, as if on the lookout for something.


    Thanks to his left eye implant, Solon didn''t have to risk getting too close to the windows or doors to see inside, choosing to instead survey from the roof of a small house across the street. The front door was out of the question. Solon waited for the crowd inside to slowly get drunk, before making his move. He snuck behind Inn, slipping inside through the back entrance. Even the vigilant adventurers and barmaids have dulled their senses with hours of alcohol and loud music, so Solon did not have to be too stealthy. As long as he was not in direct line of sight, he didn''t have to worry too much. The two cooks he found in the kitchen, since that''s the room that the back door lead directly towards, did not seem to care about him being there. One of them sat on the floor, seemingly exhausted, while the other struggled to finish the few remaining orders for the intoxicated, rowdy patrons in the main dining hall of the inn.


    Hiding his metal arm under his cloak and his shining left eye under the hood, Solon put his best mute impression, mumbling and making incoherent speech that meant nothing, while waving his right hand in a fighting motion. The cook on the floor took some time to understand what the man was trying to say, before figuring out that the stranger was asking for the entrance to the underground arena.


    Not wanting to deal with whatever was wrong with the cloaked lunatic in front of them, the cooks simply pointed to the door furthest from them on the left. It was evident they weren''t paid enough to care about anything besides cooking. Solon, still engrossed in his acting attempt, thanked them with more mumbling, before rushing to the door and opening it swiftly, disappearing into the hallway on the other side, before any alarm bells went off in the heads of the cooks.


    Following the long, thin, barely lit hallway, the mercenary soon found himself in a large room, looking very similar to a prison cell block. The smell of filth and moisture wafted from every direction, assaulting his nostrils. He spat on the ground, so the smell does not linger in mouth, before proceeding to sneak through the almost pitch-black room. Groaning, sniffling and occasional cough would come from different cells, though the majority of them seemed empty. Four torches attempted to light up the cell room, but their fires were dimmed, at the bring of being put out. Not that the darkness was an issue for the soldier, the implant that was replacing his left eye allowed him to see just fine in the dark.


    Most cells were occupied by bones and corpses, emaciated bodies that withered away from thirst or starvation. Those that still had living prisoners inside, were occupied by beastfolk. The majority of them being of adult age and in no shape to do anything. Even his presence didn''t seem to elicit any reaction from them. What was done to them, he had no idea, but they had clearly given up on life.


    "This explains the lack of guards in this area. Even if these guys weren''t caged, they still wouldn''t even try to escape." Solon thought to himself.


    Sounds of cheering and yelling came from outside the room. Finding the door, the soldier peeked through the doorway. There it was, the gladiatorial arena Vur''z spoke about. A pit, lined with something akin to barber wire, with two combatants, clearly beast folk, engaged in bloody hand to hand combat against one another. The seats placed in rows all around the pin were filled to the brim. Solon could recognize a few faces in the crowd, some from market and others from the adventurer¡¯s guild.


    With each blow exchanged, the crowd cheered and shouted. Coins pouches were passed around as the spectators made bets who would win. Women, barely dressed, walked around the crowd either passing out drinks or collecting coin from the bettors. Behind the bleachers and the crowd, several more cells lined the walls. Solon crouched, moving slow and low as to not get spotted.


    The entire gladiatorial arena had a simplistic designed, working the mercenary''s favor. A single hallway with cells lining the walls on one side, filled with that night''s combatants, and a wall up to hip height on the other side, allowing a partially obstructed view of the main arena in the center. A single source of light hung above the arena, being the single source of light, not counting a few dim torches on the hallway¡¯s walls.


    The bleachers wrapped around the pit where gladiators fought. Since all fighters were beastfolk, a ceiling of heavy metal bars was placed where the top of the arena pit met the bottom of the bleachers, to prevent any attempts at escaping of the gladiators from the pit and attacking the audience.


    The ring of bleachers served as a divide between the arena pit and the cell hallway. The majority of the guards were nearest to the pit and audience, allowing Solon to sneak through the hallway without much issue, as long as he kept low and quiet.


    The battle that was taking place below, from what he could hear at least, was a brutal one. Most likely fought to the death or very close to it. Growling, squealing and cheering all mixed together into noise that perfectly portrayed the brutality of the event. He looked through the bars of each cell, using his eye to quickly scan the captives inside, looking for the kid from the poster. Several cells and still no luck.


    "Solon. Pssst SO-LON!" Came an all too familiar voice from the right of him.


    Solon snapped his head to towards the source of the voice. In one of the smaller cells stood Sheela.


    The mercenary snorted, stifling a laugh.


    "The almighty Dune Queen. I did not know followers get recruited from inside locked cells." He whispered.


    She made a sour face at his mocking statement, before flipping him the bird. Another thing with universal meaning between both worlds.


    "What are you doing here?" Sheela asked, as he snuck closer to the cell.


    "I''m looking for that kid Vur''z was hauling. He''s got a pretty decent price for his safe return." Solon replied, quietly pulling out the poster with the kids face on it.


    "Oh, and here I thought you''ve become a do-gooder for the sanctity of your soul." The former genie commented, before pushing her hand through the bars of the cell and pointing down the hallway, in the direction Solon had come from.


    "The kids over there, he''s been roughed up quite a bit, since he didn''t want to quiet down. He''s still too small for fights, so he''s not going in the pit tonight."


    Solon nodded, rolling up the missing poster and putting back in his pocket. He turned around to head over to the kid¡¯s cell.


    "Thanks Sheela."


    Before he could properly make even a step, two long arms grabbed him by the cloak and turned him around, gripping him by the collar and holding him still.


    "Solon, I swear to the 7 divines, if you don''t get me out of this cell, I will strangle you to death with my bare hands, right now." Sheela looked down at the man¡¯s smug expression, speaking fast in a single breath, trying to remain whispering despite the desire to obliterate the soldier on the spot. Her golden eyes shining from the darkness, if looks could kill, Solon would be in the great beyond already.


    Thanks to his implant eye, the mercenary could see the vein popping on her forehead as she glared at him.


    "Alright, alright. I''m just playing with you." The shit eating grin consumed even more of his face, as the smugness in his expression threatened to reach critical levels.


    The former genie let go of his cloak with an exasperated sigh.


    A frown took place a smirk use to be as he examined the lock that held the cell closed.


    He checked Sheela, from head to toe, making sure she''s not in any shape that would hinder mobility.


    "What? Now''s not the time to be fawning over my looks Tin man." She scoffed.


    "I''m checking if you are chained to the wall or anything that could prevent you from running. I can get you out, but it''ll be loud. So I''ll need you to send it as soon as I open the door."


    Solon explained, grabbing the cell door with his left hand. He looked up at Sheela, who took a step back and nodded.


    His mechanical arm whirred softly before amping up. In a single powerful pull, the old lock gave way and the cell doors loudly swung open while creaking, before hitting bars and making even more noise.


    Sheela, the second the door banged against the bars, took off running down the hallway in the direction Solon had come from, with the mercenary hot on her heels.


    "Four cells down from the entrance door!" She said, swinging the entrance door open and disappearing behind it as Solon kept on running past it towards the cell where the kid was being held.


    The audience caught wind of the noise and so did the guards, so the mercenary had to work fast.


    Grabbing the cell doors and fully tearing them off the hinges, Solon got inside the cell.


    One quick look to confirm he didn''t get the wrong kid and he was got to go.


    The beastfolk boy on the other hand, did not share Solon''s sentiment when it came to a quick escape.


    Believing the mercenary to simply be another one of the guards or trainers, he flew into a rage, hissing and screaming at the man, while flailing his arms, prepubescent claws out and ready to cut.


    Chanting the same sleep spell incantation he heard from Vur''z, the soldier approached the hysterical boy.


    Putting the little beast to sleep with a non-effective sleeping spell and a very effective right hook, Solon tossed the knocked-out boy over his shoulder and dashed outside the cell and towards the door, stopping just long enough to throw the cell door he had previously torn off, at the approaching guards.


    ***


    General Eirlys and her troops were already cutting it close with their planned assault. The portal gate had been open without interruption for almost half a day, with only human engineers running in and out of the portal. Observing them gave some insight at the gates themselves and how they can be used. Watching the same men go in and out multiple times, before suddenly becoming dizzy and throwing up, had Amara realizing that there is a limit to how many times one can go through a portal in a short span of time before experiencing negative effects.


    The elves waited for the cover of night to launch their attack, but tension was high. No one knew what the humans were priming the portal for, but as the number of engineers reduced and the outpost seemed to finish with all necessary preparations, Eirlys understood that it all comes down to this moment.


    With everyone in position, arrows at the ready, the general focused her magic. Her arrow pulled back as the head of the arrow began to glow while Eirlys chanted to herself. A sharp inhale and the arrow was let loose.


    The success, entirely dependent on scout Amara''s information, was evident. Striking its mark, which was one of the human motion sensor turrets, the arrow exploded, rendering the device useless.


    Humans sprung to action immediately, as the elven troops rushed out the forest, getting in range to let their arrows loose. Eirlys primed a second arrow, same spell, same target, another turret down. With arrow fired, her spell casting and firing increased in speed, taking down the turrets before they could be moved or properly fortified. As the last of them went up in flames, she rushed out of cover to join her troops in storming the outpost.


    The generators that powered the gate and kept the portal open were heavily fortified. Her arrows, even with explosive enchantments could not leave even a single dent on them, let alone get to what''s inside. So, the second option was to storm and take over the outpost, killing anyone who tries to get in from the other side, until they figure out how to disable the machines keeping the portal opened.


    Caught by surprise, humans struggled to ward off the sudden elven attack. Their over reliance on the now destroyed turrets evidently proved to be a massive flaw. However, the elves were still going up against guns, and despite having the strength in numbers and the dark night on their side, not a single one of them has yet managed to get across the defensive walls of the outpost without being gunned down immediately.


    Volley after volley of arrows rained down on the outpost, pushing the humans all the way back to the portal gate. This seemed like a victory for elves at last. That was what the general wanted to believe as her troops finally broke through the defense and stormed the outpost. But they were too late.


    The portal rippled, as a monstrosity of metal came through it on four legs. Looking at it, Eirlys thought it looked like a spider or a crab of sorts. Then it came, the sound nightmares were made off. The spinning of metal, faster and faster, before gunfire echoed through the night. Not single shots, not burst fire, but a continuous shower of high caliber rounds tore the elves like they were leaves.


    "FALL BACK! THEY BREACHED THE PORTAL!" The general screamed, leaping back over the wall, as the second spider like machine started crossing the portal from the other side. On each side a minigun, similar to the ones the turrets had, but larger in comparison. Turrets would gun down their targets, but these would tear them to chunks. Whirring and clamoring with each step it took, the machine moved closer. The general focused her magic, firing enchanted arrow after arrow at the unholy contraption, but her attempts yielded no results.


    She finally leapt back over the outpost wall and joined what remained of her troops, as they ran back to the woods for safety, without any semblance or strategy. Just a mad dash in hopes of saving their heads.


    The giant metal insect followed, walking through the stone wall with ease. Once more it opened fire, this time aiming at the cover they were running towards. Bullets tore through trees with ease, crushing any hope the elves had when it came to surviving this ordeal. Eirlys stood before it, aiming her arrow at the machine, one last ditch attempt to buy her comrades time to escape.


    As the second walking nightmare began breaching the portal, the general experienced overwhelming despair grip her entire being for the first time in her long life. Guns stopped firing for a moment to cool down, the heavy metal leg of the machine raised high and ready to squash her. She fired arrow after arrow, fear and helplessness sinking deeper into her heard every time an arrow would bounce off the hard shell of the machine.


    "This is it." She thought.


    "I hope at least some of my troops escaped."


    Guns sped their rotation up again, preparing to leave only examples, not survivors. Eirlys screamed in fury as the leg of the machine began to drop down on her.


    "ENOUGH!" A voice boomed through the night, shaking the ground and the general to her core.


    The machine stopped, just for a second, before being hit from the side by a massive rock shaped like a cone. It toppled over, its mechanical cries of death echoing for a while longer as it spilled its black, flammable blood and desperately tried to get back up. Eirlys turned to first to her right, her heart overcome with relief as she witnessed all her troops, alive and well, kneeling on the ground in reverence.


    Turning to her left, she dropped to her knees to join them.


    "Your Holiness."


    Night became as bright as day, while a single person slowly made its way to the outpost. Her entire presence exuding an aura of power and wisdom worth millennia. Glowing like the brightest star, the leader of the High Elves came to the general''s rescue in their time of need.


    Simply extending her arm and pointing at the portal gate, then clenching her fist while turning her hand, the portal closed, cutting off the second machine that was slowly getting through in half. The energy feedback made the generators explode. Still, despite such an overwhelming show of force, the remaining humans in the outpost still opened fire on her.


    The High Elf was not amused in the slightest.


    "Perish from my sight, vile vermin." She hissed, before a ball of fire dropped onto the outpost, swallowing everyone in alive whole.


    "On your feet General. I have much to discuss with your king, take me to him." The radiant woman ordered.


    ***


    Solon caught up with Sheela, as the pair now ran through the empty village streets with a furious mob of mercenaries, adventurers and village folk coming after them.


    "What are we to do? Can''t run forever." The soldier said, rounding another corner in hoped of losing their pursuers.


    "To the caravan resting area, that might be our only escape." The genie said, grabbing him by the cloak and running with him down yet another alley.


    "What happened to the kid?"


    "He''ll be fine. Just a little headache when he wakes up." Solon assured her, as the boy dangled off his shoulder like a bag of potatoes while he ran.


    Finally making it to the rest area, they hopped in the first wagon that seemed empty and was actually still attached to the horse like creatures that pulled it.


    "Hiyah! Mush! Move, go. Cmon!" Solon yelled, pulling and moving the reigns that controlled the animals, but none of them bothered to move.


    "Ooooh fuuuck!" The mercenary looked over his shoulder at the mob approaching.


    Sheela grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him back into the wagon as she grabbed the reigns.


    A deep breath, focusing as best possible to channel her magic, the feeling still foreign and alien to her.


    "Ahk''Am! Akash, jan!" The former genie shouted.


    Like possessed, the animals jumped to their feet and began to move. A light jog turned into a mad gallop, kicking up a cloud of dust. Solon ducked as daggers and bricks flew past the wagon, thrown by the furious arena mob that was now left behind, as the wagon disappeared from sight, heading towards the desert.


    "Where do we go now?" Solon asked.


    "I don''t know. We got out of there safe. As for where next, let''s ask the kid when he wakes up." Sheela sighed and sat down.

 Chapter 7 - No Mans Bounty

    The bustling guild hall suddenly fell silent as the dishevelled party of adventurers walked through the door.


    The music stopped, and all heads turned towards the group, staring in disbelief.


    "FILTZ!" One of the patrons shouted from a few tables down.


    "You''ve actually returned."


    His words dispelled the shock that seemed to grip the others present in the hall, leading to an avalanche of questions.


    "You''re back. Does that mean the invaders failed to take the dungeon?" Another asked, walking and grabbing the exhausted paladin by his shoulders.


    "They probably stood no chance against Lady Quinn''s magic ay?"


    What happened in the dungeon still has not fully registered with the party. Their legs took responsibility for their lives, as they ran out of the dungeon and back to the small village where they had first taken up the quest. As the question after question bombarded them, the memories of what had happened began to surface.


    Quinn, the party¡¯s mage dropped to her knees and sat there, gripping her staff and trembling. The others didn''t seem to be much better. Filtz and Belam''Bal stood like statues, as if not even aware where their legs had taken them. No matter how much the other adventurers shook the paladin, he didn''t seem to be responsive.


    "Filtz? What the hell happened to you guys?" The adventurer shaking the paladin''s shoulder took a step back, concern etched across his face.


    "Gods! Give them some space you guys." The small figure of the guild leader pushed through the mass.


    "Come now you. Sit. Tyrina! Bring them some ale!"


    The barmaid nodded and rushed off as the elderly kobold, with the help of the other patrons, got Filt''z party to sit down and begin to calm down. Ale after ale was brought, the shell-shocked adventurers began to unwind. Not a single string was strummed, and not a single question was uttered until Filtz and the gang finally realised where they were.


    Alcohol did its work to loosen their lips and strengthen their spirits, as the party began retelling what had occurred on the sixth floor of the dungeon and their encounter with the human invaders.


    The patrons listened, the atmosphere in the hall quickly turning somber. Lanterns were lit to ward off the dark as the sun had already begun to set.


    Finally, one of the patrons interrupted the party in their story, with a question.


    "You guys did get paid right?"


    Filtz nodded.


    "Yeah. The elves paid in advance."


    "How did that man tame all the lizards? I''ve heard Gungams cannot be trained or reasoned with."


    Asked another patron from the back row.


    More and more questions arose, the patrons of the guild hall burning with curiosity. It seemed to Filtz that their number had seemed to increase, and he was right. The news of them returning from the dungeon spread across the village like wildfire, and any adventurer who was not on duty rushed to the guild hall to see it for themselves. Many of them were shocked by the story they had heard, almost unable to believe it.


    Platinum-tier adventurers that survived only because of one man''s mercy.


    This went on long into the night. The ale flowed until the barrels were empty. The guild master offered Filtz and his party rooms for the night, to sleep off their drunkenness, free of charge.


    The morning after, the hungover party stumbled out of their rooms and down to the main hall for breakfast. Unanimously, they''ve decided to take a bit of a breather from high-difficulty missions, as the money they''ve gained from nearly losing their lives in the elven dungeon, was enough to keep them dry and fed for a while.


    As the others ate, the paladin was checking out the quest board. Looking over the board again and again as if searching for something, he finally turned to the barmaid who was walking past him.


    "Tyrina. What happened to the dungeon defence request? I knew it was kept up for a rather long time."


    "Oh, that? It was taken down. The guild association has been dwelling on whether to take it down or not for a while now, but your story last night really sealed the deal. Despite how much the Vatur elves are paying the guild to keep the request up, so far, you''re the only group of adventurers to actually return from the dungeon." Tyrina explained.


    "And considering they''ve reached the sixth floor, according to you guys, and are probably even deeper in the dungeon by now, the guild association deduced that the adventurers who undertook the quest are dead. Considering the only exit is past the human invaders or the portal gate on the last floor of the dungeon, guarded by elite elven guards. And the latter is more inclined to kill deserters." The barmaid continued.


    "We''ve lost 3 parties, over 20 platinum tier adventurers since the dungeon had opened. Some to the dungeon monsters, most to the invading humans. But the guild association is pulling back and denying all further requests for that quest. There are plenty of other quests and bounties for you guys to take."


    She patted him on the back and went back to her duties as Flitz stared blankly at the bulletin board for a while longer.


    ***


    Floor Eight. At this point, the advance of the dungeon clearing unit was unstoppable, not that they had much issue with the dungeon to begin with. Most monsters capable of thinking had fled back to their lairs, avoiding sharing the same fate as the goblins and adventurers from the upper floors. The only thing that stood between Clyde''s unit and finally reaching the portal gate situated on the tenth floor was the elven troops that guarded it. Archers and mages, desperately trying to stop the inevitable. If they turned and fled through the portal, they would be executed on the spot for allowing such an important objective to fall into the enemy''s hands.


    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    Composure abandoned them and reason was not far from doing the same. With each step that the human invaders got closer to the next floor, the more violently the elves responded. Fear of death and being backed into a corner with no escape overwhelmed even the most disciplined of minds.


    Fireballs, lightning bolts, and highly volatile spells that threatened the integrity of the dungeon¡¯s chambers and tunnels were used without hesitation. Such a strategy had offered a tiny bit of success in, at least, slowing down the humans. What they did not know, is that their desperate attempts at extending their lives actually worked.


    "Clyde." Jeremy walked over to the tall man, who was leaning against a wall.


    "Orders from above."


    "Orders?" Clyde responded, raising his eyebrow.


    "Yes. We are to pack our shit up and get back out of the dungeon immediately."


    "Whaat? But we are so close to the portal gate. Just a few more dead elves and this fucking slog of a mission is done." The juggernaut in heavy armour protested.


    The soldier sighed and continued reading the order from his portable screen.


    "The Gate Outpost Beta has been entirely obliterated. Along with Spider SAM''s 1 and 2. The Crab never made it through the portal."


    Clyde''s face went from an exaggerated whining expression to a much more serious look. He simply looked at the man, nodding for him to continue reading the report.


    "At 22:30 elves launched an attack, took out the smart gun turrets, but were pushed back by the soldiers defending the outpost and the first Spider that had breached the portal. The sudden appearance of a cloaked, glowing figure turned the outcome. Single-handedly this mage took out the first Spider, then closed the portal gate by just clenching her fist, slicing the other Spider that was emerging through the gate, in half. Long story short, the unknown mage, clearly an ally to the Vatur kingdom elves, dispatched two of our SAMs, blew up the generator and then burned the entire outpost and all remaining guards there to ash and rubble. No hostages."


    "Hmmm, that does sound like a predicament." Clyde clasped his hands together and squatted as if thinking.


    "Dum du-dum, du-du-du-du-du-dum, dum-du-dum." He began humming a tune to himself, clasping his hands to the rhythm, of what seemed like Mozart.


    "Clyde!"


    "What? I''m thinking!"


    "What is there to think about? We''ve got orders. Besides, that mage might be on their way down here." Jeremy argued with the unit¡¯s commander.


    "Hey. Don''t threaten me with a good time. But yeah..." Clyde sighed and stood back up, turning to the rest of his unit.


    "Alright boys and girls, ready to breathe some fresh air? Pack this shit up and let¡¯s go."


    The beauty of the modern military, at least in Clyde''s opinion, is that everything could be packed and unpacked in a matter of minutes, should relocation be needed. Even Marcel''s lizards were pretty easy to transport back to the surface.


    Above ground, near the entrance to the dungeon, a camp was made which served as a base of operation for the extermination unit below ground. Considering how most people were wary or downright scared of the invaders, and for good reason, the defence that consisted of a fence and a few armed guards on rotation worked perfectly to keep the camp without any issues from the locals. On top of that, the majority of the forces that the elves hired were entering the dungeon through the portal gate on the tenth floor and not the dungeon entrance on the surface, so adventurers did not come near the camp either.


    Clyde, despite acting disappointed that they had to abandon the dungeon assault so close to the final floor, was glad. He felt the entire mission so overwhelmingly one-sided, almost losing all hope in this world being able to provide any challenge that can''t immediately be gunned down. The mention of a mage capable of taking out an entire outpost and going up against a heavily armed war machine alone excited him. Plus, a man of his stature hated being in small, enclosed spaces for long and on top of everything, the dungeon smelled like mold.


    "So, where do you think they''ll send us to next?" Marcel asked, catching up to his friend.


    "No clue. I hope it''s not another dungeon." Clyde responded with a shrug.


    After about an hour of walking, the unit finally surfaced. Deep breaths were taken, airing out the smell of stale mold from their lungs with fresh autumn air.


    "Fuck, this air smells good bruh." The commander said with a grin.


    "You know what this place could use? A Burger King."


    "Get the fuck outta here." Jeremy laughed, along with the rest of the unit.


    "This is the first time you''ve inhaled unpolluted air, and the first thing you can think about is polluting it."


    "Can''t help it. I need that toxic grease in my system to stay running. If your arteries aren''t clogged by double cheeseburgers, are you really living?"


    Laughing and in high spirits, the unit walked back into camp and headed straight to the briefing tent.


    Two soldiers inside saluted Clyde as he entered.


    "I assume the higher command didn''t just pull us out of that hole to have us standing pretty in this here field. So, what are the new orders?" The tall man in heavy armour asked as he sat down in a chair on the side.


    One of the two soldiers approached, reading the orders of a tablet device in his hands.


    "The new mission is a diplomatic one. One of the natives, an ally to the Vatur elves, has requested an audience with the extermination unit located by the dungeon. That would be us."


    "No shit. Continue."


    "He requested unspecified help from the unit, offering in return protection within his borders as well as a safe path to one of the portal gates, which are currently guarded by his troops." The man finished reading.


    "Interesting. And what is the name of this whimsical character?" Clyde asked.


    "Duke Perriman, Sir."


    "That''s a name or?"


    "A title."


    "So, a Duke? In alliance with the elves, offers us a deal." The tall man nodded, processing what he had just heard.


    "They have even sent an emissary to escort us there so that we can easily enter their borders without having to deal with the guards or soldiers from the Dutchy." The second soldier added.


    The unit spent a bit more time getting properly informed on the mission ahead. Duke Perriman, in his own letter, stated that he would be the host and take care of them as guests. The only request he made, was for the unit to ditch their vehicles and heavy equipment, and travel as incognito as possible, as there were eyes on him. Clyde had assumed the Duke implied elven spies were watching over him, which made sense, considering he was an ally to them. He was not a fan of being under-equipped for the job, but if those were the constraints of the mission, so be it.


    Since the Duke had offered to their host and take care of accommodations, the camp outside of the dungeon was to be disbanded and its soldiers were to return to Outpost 1, as it was no longer needed. To keep movement fast and discrete, the unit size for the mission was reduced to almost half its members. Two Warhounds, Clyde and Marcel, along with the closest members of the unit, Jeremy and a few more.


    Those leaving on the mission had gone to get some shut-eye, while the others had already begun to dismantle unnecessary parts of the camp, so the entire thing could be gone come sunrise.

 Chapter 8 - High Elves & High Treason

    The elven war room was, once more, entirely shrouded in silence. Lymlok, his sister and General Eirlys sat at the side of the table, heads down. They avoided her gaze.


    "So, this is how the elves of Vatur display their capabilities at defending the Silver Forest?" She spoke.


    "Throwing bodies at the invaders, hoping they run out of ammunition before you run out of soldiers? Last I checked, before me stand elves, not orcs."


    "Lady Aurelia, we-"


    "Tie your tongue Lymlok, while you still have it." The High Elf looked at him. Her voice never raised in tonality, but the weight of her words was crushing.


    To regular elves, High Elves were like demigods. Their power was beyond anything even the most gifted elven mages could dream of attaining. True immortality, blessed by the Gods themselves. No title, no crown, and no status could measure to a High Elf in the hierarchy of the species. Their words were law, their orders absolute.


    "Permission to speak?" Princess Claudia spoke, her voice soft and timid.


    "No. I have no use of your mouths, nor anything that might come from them." Aurelia waved her off.


    "Eirlys already informed me on everything I should know about these apes."


    The radiant woman stood up from her seat at the head of the table and walked over to the balcony. Her eyes peered at the horizon, seeing farther than even the best Vatur scouts could.


    "So, that is the Rail cannon? The Iron Fortress that shot a hole through the Home Tree?"


    "Yes, Lady Aurelia," Claudia responded.


    "What an ugly contraption. And I believed the dwarven machinery was unsightly." She scoffed.


    "Not surprising that Eothen died trying to stop it though."


    For the first time since Aurelia entered the war room, the royal siblings dared to look up. A still fresh rage simmered inside them, at the mention of their brother''s death at the hands of the invading humans.


    That feeling was fleeting, however, Aurelia''s golden eyes meeting theirs. Lymlok and Claudia quickly averted their gaze, hanging their heads down again as a cold chill washed over them.


    "Glad to see that your determination to avenge him has not diminished, in spite of your string of failures." The High Elf smirked for a moment, before regaining her neutral facial expression.


    Aurelia sat back down; a pondering look on her face. Vatur kingdom truly was caught in an inopportune time. Their king deathly ill, his heir dead. The remaining two siblings were handling running the kingdom as well as one could hope. Lymlock dealt with internal affairs and foreign relations, while Claudia, despite her crippled state, commanded the military.


    Of the various elven kingdoms on the continent, Vatur had the least mages. General Eirlys was the best magic user the kingdom had, and that made their chances of victory everything but promising. Arrows and swords really couldn''t match up against the invading humans and their weapons, no matter how hard they tried. The only solution would have been to raise an army and attempt a full-on assault, but after the humans made their show of force with the rail cannon, the kingdom was hesitant to send more troops into the meat grinder.


    "No." Aurelia thought to herself. The kingdom was not hesitant, it was terrified. Despite their attempts at small skirmishes here and there, mainly to defend the borders of the Silver Forest and the second portal gate, the elven soldiers seemed more than happy at the stalemate. However, they knew that the situation could change on a dime and it was entirely up to the humans to decide on that.


    She recalled the machinery she had taken down a few nights prior, saving the lives of General Eirlys and her troops. No doubt, with such weapons at their disposal, the invading force would eventually take over the kingdom.


    "What''s the situation of the liberated portal gate?" The High Elf mage finally broke the uneasy silence with her question.


    "We''ve sent our best troops to guard the gate, My Lady. Even hired various platinum-tier adventurers from neighbouring kingdoms as backup. Also, several mages as well from Queen Vitora''s court." Lymlok responded.


    Aurelia nodded, before turning to the general.


    "Any new reports from the dungeon?"


    "No, My Lady. Our guard is still holding strong, the human advance seemed to have slower to a halt." Eirlys said.


    ***


    Morning came fast, but the camp disassembly and packing were even faster. Where once stood several tents, fences, and a few parked Humvees was now just a field. A field with 3 soldiers in the middle of it.


    "Good morning." came a chirping voice from behind them.


    The three men turned around, coming face to face with a short woman. She was dressed like a typical village girl, with high boots, a dress and a sweater west. Her long, blond hair was tied in a braid, almost reaching her lower back. Blue eyes that exuded overwhelming "morning person" energy.


    "I am Layla. Ambassador from the court of Her Majesty, currently in service of Duke Perriman." Spoke the woman.


    "Any questions?"


    Clyde, Marcel and Jeremy simply shook their heads. The cheerful woman clasped her hands, leading them over to a cart, guarded by two soldiers from the Dutchy.


    "As you are surely aware, the Duke made this request in secrecy, so I have here prepared clothes that will help you blend in with the locals." She eyed the men up and down, her eyes lingering on Clyde and Marcel.


    "Though we may have some issues regarding sizes."


    Clyde wasn''t a big fan of the whole ordeal, mainly due to the fact that travelling in secrecy meant he couldn''t bring any of his main weapons along, especially his combat suit, as it would draw obvious attention.


    All 3 of them still wore moderate body armour, which would keep them safe from arrows and bladed weapons, under their new costumes. Minimal weapons too, mostly handguns and an SMG each. Anything they could hide under cloaks. After all, the plan was to hear the Duke out on his request, not try to overthrow the Dutchy.


    "Tell ya what, these clothes are starting to grow on me." The tallest of the three men said once Layla had managed to find clothes that actually fit him.


    Even outside the combat suit, Clyde did not appear any smaller, easily towering over everyone else present, two guards included.


    "No one''s big like Gaston! Incredibly thick like Gaston." He sang while flexing and checking out how the clothes fit his frame. They were obviously on the looser side, to account for the body armor they wore underneath.


    "More like the Beast," Jeremy added.


    "The human version."


    "How dare you?" Clyde gasped, placing a hand on his chest theatrically, acting offended at the comparison, while Marcel chuckled.


    "Well, if you gentlemen are all prepared, I would like us to start moving. If we manage to catch the morning trade caravan heading to the Dutchy, we will be able to get in even more unseen." Layla said, hopping into the cart.


    The soldiers nodded and joined her inside, while the guards drove the cart. A large, black and white cat appeared from under the remaining clothes that were piled in the corner and snuggled up to the woman.


    To the surprise of the three men, the feline appeared to be wearing overalls.


    Jeremy opened his mouth to ask about the cat, but thinking back, this was far from the weirdest thing they''d seen in this world, so he decided against it.


    "So, how come you understand us? And vice versa?" Marcel asked Layla, who was petting the pat that curled up on her lap.


    "Oh, that''s easy. Ambassadors are usually low-tier mages, who possess spells that allow understanding and talking to various species, often in their native language." The blonde woman responded, pointing to a necklace she wore.


    "It makes understanding you even easier."


    "But others, like the guards, have no clue what we are saying?" Jeremy interjected.


    "Correct." She replied, before continuing.


    "If you are worried that speaking your language to one another or me, will blow your cover, worry not. The town is a mixture of various people, from different regions. Some speak different dialects, others different languages entirely. You will blend right in."


    ***


    Everybody kept their heads down as the cart merged with the incoming caravan and made it through the gates of the small town. It was a busy place, no doubt, with townsfolk all over the streets. Various shops and stores lined both sides of the main street, leading to the town centre. Layla was not lying when she said the town has a great diversity of people. Everything from humans and elves to dwarves and kobolds could be seen amongst the crowd, rushing to the centre of the town where the marketplace was, to set up their booths as the trade caravan approached.


    The town had a circular layout, as a portal gate stood in the centre of it, the buildings seemingly built around it. By the looks of it, the gate had not been used in quite some time, but the invading soldiers now understood the position Duke Perriman was in, and what his offer most likely would be.


    Below the soil, Marcel''s pets followed the cart, ready to jump out at the first sign of trouble.


    Once they arrived at the market, the group continued on foot, blending into the crowd, as Layla, cat riding on her shoulders, led them to the Duke''s manor. A lavish estate, situated atop a hill, looking over the entirety of the Dutchy.


    For how chatty the men were before the start of the journey, all 3 of them were now silent. Not a word was uttered by either of them since the group entered the town. The ambassador felt a bit uneasy due to this, she was used to adventurers, and even mercenaries, being quite chatty, especially before a mission. The soldiers behind her seemed to be observing the town, studying the layout of it and mapping it out.


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    Once they passed through the estate gates, Layla told the group they could relax and remove their hoods, as the hardest part of the journey was behind them. The soldiers did as told, with no change in attitude. Finally, the giant of a man broke the awkwardness.


    "Y''know, I hope they feed us. I never had fantasy food before." Clyde grinned.


    "Oh, yeah. We did not have breakfast yet. I will let the Duke know. Don''t worry, he knows how to treat important guests." She replied, as the cat hopped off her shoulder and ran off somewhere.


    The term "fantasy", that Clyde used, confused Layla a bit, but she decided not to think much of it. These humans were from a different world entirely, so perhaps this truly was a fantasy to them.


    Inside the manor, the group was welcomed by butlers and maids, making sure that the soldiers were refreshed and seated before the Duke arrived.


    Perriman was an older gentleman, pushing 50 by the looks of it, with grey hair and beard. He had a youthful glow about him, however, and his eyes were that of a cunning man. It was evident that he was not the type of noble to just sit and indulge in doing nothing every day.


    "Greetings, dear friends. Welcome to my humble home. I hope the trip here was not too much of a hassle." He gave the soldiers a half bow, once he arrived at the bottom of the stairs.


    "Thank you for having us." Replied Jeremy, giving an awkward bow back.


    Perriman stopped for a moment, looking at the men and then at the door.


    "I thought there was supposed to be more of you?"


    "Yeah. But we decided to reduce the numbers to the bare minimum, for easier travel and keeping a low profile." Jeremy answered.


    The Duke took a step back, looking over the huge Warhound soldier that was Clyde, finding it a bit ironic that they mentioned keeping a low profile with him being as big as he was.


    Clyde and Marcel could smell the fear that gripped the noble, his posh mannerisms could not hide his true feelings. The man was scared stiff, both of them and potential unwanted guests, evident by the number of guards placed around doors and windows.


    ***


    The dining hall was set, food and drinks were brought out, and the Duke clearly spared no expense on the presentation of hospitality, for the sake of making a good first impression of the invaders. Once done with the preparations, the room was vacated by all the staff, save for the Duke himself and his best guard, Layla and her cat, and the 3 soldiers.


    For an unknown reason, Clyde and Marcel had requested the cat be kicked out of the room as well, and not be allowed entry until the dinner was concluded. Layla protested a bit, but eventually caved in, leaving the cat outside in the hallway.


    As dinner began, the two Warhounds engrossed themselves in the delicious food in front of them, leaving Jeremy to hold the majority of the conversation with the Duke.


    "As you see, I believe we could help one another. You are locked in conflict with the Vatur elves, and I would very much like to be rid of their grip on my town as well." Spoke Perriman.


    "I see. And in return?" Asked Jeremy, taking a sip of wine from his cup.


    "I will allow you to use the portal gate at the centre of town to deploy your troops. Isn''t that what you are fighting with the elves over?"


    "My Lord, I doubt the Queen would allow such an offer." Layla interrupted the noble, a worried look on her face.


    It was clear that despite being the one tasked with getting the soldiers to the Dutchy, she was kept in the dark about the deal Perriman had planned to strike with them.


    "Silence Layla. Eat your food and let men discuss such issues." He gave her a dirty look before turning his gaze back to Jeremy.


    "Queen, eh?" Marcel spoke, still chewing on his food.


    "She has no clue you''ve invited us here."


    "She doesn''t need to bother herself with everything that goes on in a small town such as this," Perriman responded a bit nervously.


    "Last I checked, Vatur kingdom and the Kingdom of her Majesty were on good terms with one another. You are a vassal to the Queen, right? I don''t know how the elves would feel when their enemies suddenly start coming out from friendly territory." Jeremy continued.


    "Yes, It might start a declaration of war," Marcel added.


    "At the very least, it will cause the Queen to send troops or even appear herself, to see what the fuck is going on here if he gives us the portal gate." Added the other soldier, agreeing with his friend.


    "Perhaps. But I am sure we can cross that bridge when we get to it, right?" Asked the Duke, getting more panicked by the minute.


    "I like an ambitious man, Perriman," Clyde said, taking a break from destroying the food in front of him to catch his breath.


    "It''s all over your face. You''ve probably seen what type of stuff the elves are dealing with and how hard they''re being hammered by forces much smaller than their kingdom. You invited us here, hoping that by offering the portal gate to us, you would rid yourself of the ironclad grip that the elves have on your balls."


    The tall man laughed, downing a cup of wine and pouring himself another.


    "And!" He raised his finger, stopping anyone else before they could say a word.


    "You hope that if you ally with us, if... well "If"... WHEN the Queen finally comes here to see what the fuck is going on, we help you get the crown off of her head and onto yours. Am I in the ballpark with that assumption?"


    Duke Perriman was speechless. He wiped his forehead with a handkerchief, sweating bullets at this point.


    "No point in denying it. Yes, those were my hopes, for this conversation."


    "HAH! I read you like a book Perriman." Laughed Clyde, the other two soldiers also grinning.


    Layla sat there, stunned to her core. She thought about just running out, fleeing the manor and rushing to inform the queen. Her eyes darted from door to door before a metal clang snapped her back to reality.


    She looked at the source of the sound. The tallest of the three soldiers had pulled out his revolver and placed it on the table, the barrel pointed at her. Ambassador locked eyes with Clyde, feeling the fear twist her insides.


    "You move. I blow a golf ball-sized hole in you." The man said, his look not hiding his murderous intent.


    "Okay..." She gulped and nodded.


    Their cheerful demeanour had her mistaken about their intentions. They were soldiers, but they were also mercenaries. They do not need permission from superiors to agree or disagree on deals, especially in a world that''s not their own. Here, they were exempt from laws that they would have to otherwise abide by.


    "Let''s talk about the reality of your plan Duke." Said, Jeremy.


    "You''ve seen Outpost one? The one with the big cannon?"


    The Duke nodded.


    "Alright. Well, the good news is, the town square has just enough room for us to bring in what the elves had prevented us from bringing in at Outpost two." He produced his tablet, typing something in it before the device produced a three-dimensional image of a four-legged machine.


    "We can fit two, maybe three Spiders, if we squeeze them in the town square. So that''s your luck, as it''s just what we need. But!" He paused.


    The Duke watched with bated breath as the man typed something else on the device, before showing a layout of Outpost 2 before the High Elf destroyed it.


    "The entire setting needs to look a bit like this. Meaning, we need to get engineers here and get generators placed, get them up and running, triangulate the position and establish coordinates of the gate here in relation to the one on the other side."


    "Which, all in all, should take us about two weeks, a week at best if we work really, really fast. But think of it as two weeks, just to be on the safe side." Said Clyde.


    "That will also raise alarms. You''ve got eyes, Duke, all over your town. Watching you, your people and everything else going on. Elven eyes." Marcel added, pointing behind himself to the window, whose view pointed directly at the town.


    "So, the elves will definitely not like something like that. The Dutchy is right on the border with Vatur, if we activate the gate, it will practically be delivering enemy troops to their doorstep. Big retaliation." Jeremy put his tablet away.


    "On top of that, her Majesty the Queen will probably send people to come and run a spike through your ass, because the kingdom of Marbella is allies, or at least friends with the Vatur elves." Added Clyde.


    "The million-dollar question, baby, is can YOU, keep both sides off our backs until we set the portal gate up? If you can, well whoop tee do! You just might get what you are looking for. But if you can''t and shit hits the fan, believe me, we will be the first to high tail it out of this town." The three men laughed.


    Perriman rubbed his forehead. The cards were all laid out for him, the risks and rewards. He knew what type of power these humans held, what their weapons did to the Home Tree. With something like that, he could be crowned King of Marbella come spring, even sooner. No longer a petty vassal, bowing his head both to the Queen and the Elves. But if he failed, he''d face the gallows or worse. No! Failing was not an option. He would make sure whatever these invaders needed to succeed was given to them.


    "Alright. I see this will not be an easy task. But the benefits to reap from this do not befit an easy task anyway. So, whatever you need, I shall provide." Perriman took a deep breath, steeling himself as he made the decision.


    Layla sat in her chair, mortified at the events unfolding right in front of her. She knew Perriman was a man of ambitions, but she never expected him to be treasonous scum too.


    "Just make sure to keep as many watchful eyes away from the town square and the rest portal gate. No double, elf informants and the kingdom''s informants will eventually catch with of it. But you must do whatever it takes to keep us a few steps ahead of them." Jeremy told the Duke.


    The Duke turned to Layla, as the door to the hall opened and guards walked in.


    "Throw her in the basement, and make sure she stays there. We cannot risk her informing anyone of this."


    "NO! How dare- GET YOUR HANDS OFF ME." Layla protested as the guards dragged her out of the room.


    Duke Perriman nodded at the men sitting across him, as they all looked at each other. As one, they all took a big swig from their wine cups.


    "Make the call," Clyde said to Jeremy.


    ***


    "My Lady. We have trouble." A scout said, bursting through the door of the war hall, trying to catch his breath.


    Aurelia did not say a word, her face holding a "this better be important" expression.


    "What in the name of Gods is so important that you interrupt us?" Princess Claudia hissed.


    "The Perriman Dutchy. It closed off the entire town square. No one is allowed to enter or even get close. Duke Perriman seems to have hired a ton of mercenaries and adventurers to keep every vantage point guarded. Our spies cannot even get close enough to see what''s going on. He''s invited some strange figures earlier to his manor, for business dealings or something." The scout said.


    "What are you cooking Perriman?" Lymlok mumbled to himself.


    "Also, the dungeon defence squad reports that as of two nights ago, the humans had abandoned the dungeon in its entirety. They just packed up and left. No trace of them. Even their camp above ground is gone." He continued.


    Eirlys exchanged a panicked look with the royal siblings.


    "The gate at the Dutchy. No way. He wouldn''t dare..."


    "Send all available scouts to the border, keep an eye on the Iron Tower outpost, keep an eye on the town, keep an eye on any movement from the outpost to the Dutchy. And tell every scout and spy in the Dutchy to not stop trying to find out what''s going on in there, by any means necessary." Lymlok ordered the scout, as the elf ran back out of the room.


    "Seems our allies are not so loyal as we thought," Aurelia spoke, before walking over to the balcony.


    "What are you plotting, scum?"

 Chapter 9 - Mere twenty men

    In the front yard of the Perriman Duchy, three soldiers lounged on decorative tables, usually reserved only for the Duke and his family. The largest among them had one of the maids sitting on his stomach, while he gently caressed her back and stared into the clouds that floated lazily across the bright, blue sky.


    The young maid, one of this man¡¯s many inamoratas, with which he shared passion in bed during the small hours of the night, sat sideways on his stomach, knitting something.


    ¡°You know, I could get used to this. I hope Perriman takes longer to finish the preparations.¡± Clyde spoke up, breaking the serenity of the morning.


    ¡°I think he¡¯s running out of maids for you to chase.¡± Jeremy laughed, not even turning to look at his friend.


    The young brunette suddenly gasped, hopping off her seat. Several pairs of footsteps, rustling through the meticulously kempt grass, caught the attention of the soldiers, who sat up and turned in the direction of the sound.


    ¡°My Lord.¡± Said the maid with a bow, before quickly scurrying past the Albrecht and jogging back towards the mansion, feeling the Duke¡¯s gaze of disapproval on her back, making her pick up the pace.


    ¡°Perriman. Good to see you. Looking as good as when I saw you yesterday.¡± Clyde grinned, spreading his arms wide while greeting the man.


    Perriman rubbed the bridge of his nose, taking a deep sigh to stave off a feeling of exasperation whenever he looked at the mountain of a man before him. The two guards behind him were giving the soldiers cold and unwelcoming expressions.


    ¡°I am glad to see you three in such high spirits. I¡¯ve come to talk to you about the second phase of our agreement. The phase in which you deliver what I asked for.¡± Continued the noble, pulling out a chair and planting his behind in it.


    ¡°I see. But as we discussed, the preparations must be finished first.¡± Began Jeremy, who was laying between Clyde and Marcel. The three of them seemed to be arranged in order largest to smallest, starting with Clyde.


    ¡°Yes. I am aware.¡± Perriman cut the soldier off before he could continue.


    ¡°The preparations are complete. They have been for a couple of days now.¡±


    ¡°Now, I am a gracious host, and you three have not shied away from enjoying in my hospitality.¡± The Duke accentuated the last word, staring directly at Clyde, but not saying anything further.


    Two weeks had passed since the otherworldly soldiers first stood before Perriman and accepted his bold proposition to help him dethrone the Queen in return for using his town¡¯s portal gate. Be it adventurer or mercenary, the Duke hired anyone willing to work without asking questions. He was so certain of his plan¡¯s success, that the payments he offered to adventurer¡¯s guilds and mercenary associations, were three times above the norm.


    Some were even offered plots of land as payment instead of gold.


    With this the process of clearing out the main town square, where the portal gate was, went faster than even Perriman expected.


    Under the guise of renovating the square, he kept the majority of the townsfolk from asking too much questions. As for the elven spies and Marbella agents, that¡¯s what all the hired help was. Guard was quadrupled, covering every step of the street and every rooftop, day and night. Anyone who so much as looked out of place was arrested and put in temporary cells in the Duke¡¯s own dungeon, beneath the mansion, making sure no word of what was really happening got out. The same went for anyone discussing the renovations in the town¡¯s taverns and inns.


    Most of the heavy lifting was done by Perriman¡¯s guards, the fine tuning and preparing the gate was what the otherworlders focused on. On their first meeting, when the plans were laid out, the three soldiers made the call to their outpost. As soon as Perriman secured the town square and locked it down, the rest of the unit that the new allies belonged to, showed up and began working, hooking up the gate with ropes and tubes, to devices and machines Perriman had never imagined existed before.


    Their equipment was transported via carriage into town, as their own vehicles made too much noise and would cause suspicion.


    Now the work had been finalized, all that remained was for the soldiers to fire up their contraptions and Albrecht Perriman would become the most powerful man in the entire region. He could almost feel it, the heavy crown on his head, the softness of the throne beneath his ass. The Crimson Queen, in all her might, still was no match for the weapon that the otherworlders used on Home Tree.


    Perriman waved off his guards.


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    ¡°Leave us.¡±


    The two men bowed, turned on their heels and left, leaving the four men to their discussions.


    ¡°Before we proceed, I would love to know. No, I am dying to know, what force awaits on the other side of that gate. The thought has been robbing me of sleep for nights in a row.¡± Albrecht leaned in his chair; hands clasped together.


    In his mind, the image of the Iron Fortress played on repeat, the prospect of having such might as his tail wind almost had the man giddy.


    The three soldiers exchanged looks, nodding silently.


    ¡°Well, like we said. You can expect three Spiders. Araign¨¦e-55 if you wanna get technical." Clyde said before letting Jeremy explain further, reminding Perriman of the war machines he was shown the first time he met the soldiers.


    ¡°Heavily armoured, short range, mobile anti-air unit. Call ¡®em SPAD, for short. Gyroscopic, all terrain, 4 heavily armoured legs, can go anywhere a tank wish it could.¡±


    These words meant very little to the noble, as he didn¡¯t understand anything in regards to what the soldier was so passionately explaining. Still, he nodded his head vehemently, pretending he understood everything.


    A translator crystal, attached to the collar of his shirt, began to shine as he finally spoke.


    ¡°Wonderful. Those machines sound truly glorious. They must require countless men to properly operate.¡±


    ¡°Well, in total, twenty men.¡± Retorted Clyde.


    ¡°Twuhhh¡­¡± Perriman felt the words stop halfway up his throat. He shook his head, kindly asking the man to repeat himself, hoping that he had heard him wrong.


    ¡°Twenty. Araign¨¦e-55 is usually manned by a five-man squad. Can be with as little as three, like most tanks, but since it¡¯s a much bigger and more complex piece of machinery, five dudes per Spider is recommended. So, 15 dudes, that¡¯s 3 spiders. And 5 bonus men, mostly mechanics and shit.¡± Clyde explained further.


    The Noble wasn¡¯t sure if they were joking with him or if they were serious. He was praying for the former, his ambitions hinged on the boost in military presence he would gain by allying with the invading soldiers.


    ¡°Twenty men? Mere twenty men?!¡± He thought, anger boiling his blood.


    He wouldn¡¯t be able to lay siege on the farmers market with those numbers, let alone overthrow the Queen and tell the Elves to go fuck themselves.


    They took advantage of him, that must be it. Played him for a fool, strung him along for almost half a month, eating his food, fucking his maids.


    At last, he gathered himself, looking up at the soldiers, asking the only question burning his mind at that moment.


    ¡°What sort of pitiful military sends such a small number of soldiers to conquer another world?¡± Perriman took a deep breath, unable to control his frustration any longer, going off on the men.


    ¡°Do you think this world that lowly, that insignificant, that you do not even think bringing your best weapons and more than a handful of men is necessary to invade? Twenty men. Twenty fucking soldiers is what you offer me? To take on one of the biggest kingdoms of man on this side of the continent?! I can already see my head stuck on a stick in front of the Marbella palace!¡±


    ¡°Hey, hey, Perry. Chill man.¡± Clyde leaned over, patting the noble on the shoulder.


    Albrecht looked up; surprisingly, none of the three men in front of him seemed even a tad bit shaken by his words. He could feel his cheeks turning warmer, realizing he may have acted like a fool for a moment.


    ¡°Apologies. I was caught by surprise is all.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll let you in on a little secret Perry.¡± Clyde grinned, looking over his shoulder at the other two, who nodded, giving a silent permission to their friend.


    ¡°This ain¡¯t an invasion. Nor a conquest. This a¡­ resource acquisition mission.¡± He said, waving his hand around as if trying to pick appropriate words from the air in front of him.


    Perriman was again taken for a loop by this discovery. They weren¡¯t here to just conquer them? What were they here for then?


    ¡°We¡¯re here because, well to put it simply, a certain, mmmmmmm.¡± Clyde continued waving his hand.


    ¡°Jeremy, help me out here.¡±


    ¡°Because a certain business on our world, believes that mana stones are the next big step in clean, renewable energy. They believe it¡¯s their ticket to becoming the number 1 energy provider on our world and revolutionizing the global energy industry forever.¡± Jeremy took over the explanation, not that it helped Perriman understand anything.


    ¡°To cut a lot story short, we are private contractors, mercenaries. If we were the military, this world would¡¯ve been boned.¡± Came all the way from the back of the table, as Marcel decided to finally speak for the first time since the Duke arrived.


    ¡°Yeah. All this is a small scale operation, details of which I will not disclose, not a full blown world conquering invasion.¡± Clyde wrapped it up, just as Jeremy¡¯s communicator went off.


    ¡°Sir, the generators are warmed up, the gear is primed, we are ready to begin cracking the veil open.¡± Came over the comms.


    ¡°Roger. Any news from the peepers?¡±


    ¡°None. All is quiet.¡±


    ¡°Great. So, Duke Perriman, ready to open the gate?¡±


    Jeremy asked, as the three soldiers got up from the table and stretched, heading down the hill towards the main garden entrance before Albrecht could even give them an answer.

 Chapter 10 - Beasts within the cloud

    Wind howled across the bare fields on the outskirt of the Vatur borders. She stood alone, staff in hand, looking up at the clear autumn sky. Her cloak fluttered as she took one last inhale, finalizing her decision.


    ¡°Lady Aurelia. Everything is prepared, we have sent word to all of out people in Perriman¡¯s town to leave immediately.¡± The elven scout spoke from behind her.


    The grass bent with the wind, as Aurelia simply nodded in acknowledgement of the scout¡¯s words, still focusing and channelling her magic. She could feel the mana of the gate in the distance, telling her the portal was forced open. Time was of the essence; she could not let the invaders bring in more of their hellish machinery.


    Not far away from the High Elf, the royal siblings and their personal guard stood. They had their reservations about the plan, unsure if the cruelty that would soon befall the treacherous Duke and his people was truly necessary.


    ¡°My Lady, I...¡± Lymlok spoke up, much to the dissatisfaction of his sister and the guards.


    ¡°I must ask once more, is this truly necessary? What of the humans within the town? Would attacking the Duchy not be equal to declaring war on the kingdom of Marbella itself?¡±


    ¡°I am not surprised at your aversion to my methods, Lymlok.¡± The High Elf spoke up, her back still turned to the group of elves.


    ¡°It is not something a Low-born could understand. Perriman¡¯s treachery has not escaped my foresight; however, he is not to blame for this alone. The Dragon Soul Queen is at fault for not keeping her dogs properly restrained and obedient. A ruler must not allow their subjects to fraternize with the enemy behind her back. If she had lost her edge, this will hone it.¡±


    ¡°But.¡± The elven prince began, but a sudden gust of wind from Aurelia stopped him mid-sentence.


    ¡°I take no pleasure in this. I pity the people, for their lives were thrown away by Perriman, in his pursuit of power.¡± She said, lying through her teeth.


    To a High Elf, the lives of humans were as valuable as the lives of weevils. A race that was neither blessed by any gods, nor particularly good at anything besides spreading across the world like some sort of invasive plant. Humans rarely caused trouble, but every once in a while, some of them would aim well above their means in pursuit of power, wealth or land.


    In such times, reminding them where they stood was important. Did she take pleasure in it?


    Does a farmer tending to his fields take pleasure in keeping the vermin at bay?


    ¡°Moreover, how many more family members must you watch perish or become cripples, before you understand that annihilation is the only response those beyond the gates understand?¡± Aurelia asked the young elf, her cold tone sinking like a dagger in his heart.


    Lymlok spoke not a single word more, merely glancing over at his sister, seated in her chair, feeling a familiar hatred blaze within him. A hate towards all those who wore the skin of men, but were monsters underneath. The ones that took his sister¡¯s joy and legs away.


    Feeling her mana resonate deep beneath the soil, Aurelia turned to her left, pointing her staff toward a lone cave that jutted out from the field.


    A single, gaping hole made of dirt stared back at her, darkness concealing its sleeping denizens below. It was no mere cave, but an entrance to a hive, dug deep into the soil. No mortal mage was powerful enough to bind them, no brave her strong enough to slay them, no madman foolish enough to even set foot near their nest.


    ¡°Blessed Goddess, mother of all divine and pure, giver of immortal light! I beseech you! Grant me power to awaken the foe of everything that flies. Grant me the power to wrestle them into submission!¡±


    She struck the tip of her staff into the ground, the soil rising and falling beneath her, rippling like water. Again and again, nine times she struck the earth, sending ripples far and deep into the field. And the field rumbled back, the slumbering beasts beneath the soil awakening.


    The hive stirred, the ground swelled as they moved upwards, towards the cave entrance.


    The elves, who watched this display of power, felt a chill running up their backs. Such magic was far above what a single mage could ever perform.


    Darkness parted slowly, pairs of eyes shining from with the cave, as the creatures slowly crawled outside, one after another. There was only a few of them, long horns decorating their scaly heads. One stood above the others, both in ferocious looks and in size, the leader of the Hive. They rumbled, filling the air with a static, the clouds slowly converging into one mass in the sky above.


    With a deep breath, Aurelia struck her staff against the ground a final time before pointing it at the giant reptiles.


    ¡°Hear me! Beasts of the sky, you who rule below only dragons. Hand your might to me.¡±


    Her eyes began to glow, pupils disappearing in a while light as she cast her spell, linking her will to the minds of the beasts.


    ¡°Kneel before the High One, the Goddess of the Light. Her enemies are your enemies. Her wrath is your wrath. Your claws and fangs are her spears and blades to command!¡±


    Slowly, one after the other, the beasts before her bent their heads, their eyes shining as her did.


    ¡°You know where the enemy hides. Fly! Take to the sky and rain death upon them. Their lives are yours to feast upon, my gift to your hive.¡±


    With a shriek, the creatures unfurled the scaly wings and took to the air. More and more poured from the cave, until their numbers were too great to count. They enveloped themselves in the cloud above, now black and spewing lightning on all sides, and set their sights on the Duchy.


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    At least, Aurelia collapsed to her knees, breathing heavily and clutching her staff for stability.


    To command such a number of beasts took a lot out of her. Her guards rushed over, carefully helping her back to the group, where she sat on the grass, basking in the sunlight and feeling of triumph that was soon to come.


    ***


    Perriman was awestruck at the sight before him. The portal gate, once mostly serving as decoration in his lovely town, now hummed with life. Cables, made of material he never seen before, were attached to the gate on multiple places. He reached out to touch one, only for a female soldier to slap his hand away.


    ¡°I¡¯d not do that Perry. They¡¯re insulated, but still, don¡¯t touch.¡± Jeremy chuckled, while the duke rubbed his hand.


    The sight of such technology reignited Albrecht¡¯s faith in the success of his plan. With a clearer mind, he thought about what the soldiers told him in the garden. Being an inquisitive man, the duke turned to Jeremy and asked.


    ¡°You called them SPADs. Self-Propelled Air Defence. However, so far you¡¯ve only clashed with the elves and hired adventurers. Unless they have all learned how to fly in droves, in the last several months, I have to ask what warrants the need for anti-air weaponry?¡±


    Clyde, who was looking up at the sky, noting the sudden absence of clouds, spoke up.


    ¡°Pray that you never find out, Perry.¡±


    Not too fond of the nickname, but too entranced with the technology that was powering the gate, Perriman decided to let it slide.


    With a low boom, the gate lit up for a second, creating a thin veil like portal. The duke¡¯s eyes were as wide as saucers, looking through it to the other side. They were truly massive. Nightmares in shapes of four legged spiders, made of metal and wires, painted a mix of black and green. On top of each were two pairs of long pipes, attached to an armoured base. They were longer than any spear or weapon he had ever seen.


    ¡°Gods¡­ Those must be the anti-air defences.¡± He muttered.


    ¡°Right you are baby. 30x173mm rounds. Firing at 1300 rounds per minute.¡± Clyde said, slapping Perriman on the back.


    The noble¡¯s jaw was on the floor at that point.


    ¡°One thousand¡­ per minute.¡±


    What foe would warrant such a machine? He dared not even think about it. The beasts that covered the skies of their world must have been horrors straight from fairy tales, to force these people to develop such defences.


    Clyde laughed, taking a bullet from one of the nearby boxes and handing it to the awestruck duke. Albrech just stared at the thing in his hand.


    ¡°When people say: ¡®God Bless America¡¯, they mean HEI rounds.¡± The massive soldier laughed, taking the bullet back from the noble and placing it in the box.


    Perriman just walked off to the side, sitting on an empty crate next to his guards, who ever equally at a loss for words. He wasn¡¯t sure if he should be ecstatic or terrified of the people he chose to ally with.


    ¡°How we looking?¡± Jeremy asked one of the soldiers who was monitoring the gate output on a small screen.


    ¡°Looking good Sir, a few more minutes and the portal should be 100% stable. Then we can begin with the transition.¡± He replied, glancing up at the humming gate for a second.


    Clyde walked over to the duke and his guards, leaning on the wall next to where they sat, eyes occasionally looking towards the sky.


    ¡°Now, some might say this ain¡¯t our A game. Sure, we got cooler stuff. But considering what we need it for, these things will do just fine. Plus, the boys upstairs said we have to clear out the backlog first, before we can buy and use more modern toys.¡± He mumbled that last part.


    The town centre was empty, windows closed, doors locked, shops taking a day off. Guards and hired muscle were more numerous than ever before, keeping the townsfolk from the project. But the people were growing suspicious of the renovations, once the humming of the gate could be heard. Ears heard and imagination filled the blanks that the eyes could not see.


    Jeremy, Clide and Marcel knew Perriman could not keep everything under wraps indefinitely, the word would eventually reach the Queen of Marbella. But for what it was worth, the duke did a fantastic job making sure that word spreads as slow as possible.


    The reports from Jeremy¡¯s drones, which were sent out towards the next town over, to the East, told them soldiers the Queen was on her way. Riding with a small band of elite soldiers, like the devil was nipping at their heels.


    It didn¡¯t matter, as she would arrive too late anyways. As for the elves, there was not much they could do either, or so the group thought when they first began the project two weeks prior.


    Now, Clyde felt like that confidence was about to come back and bite them in the ass.


    ¡°We might want to pick up the pace, before that storm clouds hits. If we could get this over with before the rain, I¡¯d be delighted.¡± Marcel walked up to his comrade and spoke.


    The tall soldier squinted his eyes, watching a single black could moving towards them from the direction of the Vatur kingdom. He¡¯s seen this before, the very first time they tried crossing over to this world, almost a year ago.


    ¡°Hey, Perriman. Remember when I told you to pray you never find out why we need SPADs?¡± He asked, leaning over to the duke, eyes still locked on the cloud that grew bigger.


    ¡°Yes.¡± Replied the duke.


    ¡°Did you pray?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Well, you should¡¯ve.¡± Sighed Clyde, stepping away from the wall and moving towards his unit.


    ¡°Everybody, pick up the pace, on the double. I want at least one Spider on this side of the gate by the time that cloud hits.¡± He ordered.


    ¡°Non essentials. Pack your shit, pack our gear, everything we don¡¯t need to keep the gate afloat and high tail it out of this place, back to camp. If you do not hear from us in the next 24h, report back to command for relisting and fresh orders. Move it!¡±


    The soldiers immediately hopped to their feet, following orders despite their confusion.


    Jeremy walked over to Clyde, equally as confused.


    ¡°What¡¯s up with the attitude change?¡±


    Before the mountain of a man could give his friend an answer, Perriman walked over, asking pretty much the same question.


    ¡°Perry. Time for you to hit the dusty trail. Run back to your mansion, get your family, get your servants, forget about packing shit, just get as far away from the town as you can, preferably towards the woods to the south of here.¡± Clyde replied, before pointing to one of Albrecht¡¯s guards.


    ¡°You, run to the warning bell, sound it. Start evacuating people.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t just tell people to abandon their homes for no reason.¡± The guard protested.


    ¡°Fine, sure. Tell them the invaders have attacked the town. Or, tell them a flock of Wyverns are on their way to stop this shitshow we¡¯ve started here.¡± Clyde answered, rushing over to help one of the soldiers load a big box into a carriage.


    ¡°Wyverns?!¡± Perriman shouted, catching the attention of bystanders.


    ¡°Yep. There¡¯s a nest of them, a huge hive, North of here, in the grass fields between the this town and the southern Vatur borders.¡± Replied the soldier, while moving about and helping the rushing soldiers.


    ¡°That¡¯s why you need the anti¡­¡± Whispered the duke to himself, looking up at the sky, finally coming to realize that the single, massive storm cloud was not a cloud at all.

 Chapter 11 - Wyverns & The Dragon Queen

    The sound of footsteps thudding across the dirt road echoed in Perriman¡¯s ears as he ran uphill towards his estate. His family and beloved servants were the only thing on his mind, the thought of their deaths at the jaws of Wyverns drowned out sound of the town¡¯s warning bells behind him. Why now? Was it divine intervention? The gods sending those winged beasts to enact judgement on him and his town for the involvement with the invaders?


    Wyverns hardly ever attacked town, unless the food supply for their hive was running low or they were migrating to a new nest.


    But the fields outside Vatur were filled with game to hunt and keep them satiated, so this made no sense.


    He gave up trying to understand the cause, as the sight of his mansion came into view over the hill. Perriman stopped at the top of the hill, turning around to witness the cloud that enshrouded the winded beasts descend upon the town square. Through the streets and out the duchy gates people fled for their lives, some on horseback and others on foot, heading towards the nearby forest in hopes that the thick trees would shield them from the death above. Some were less fortunate than others, smaller wyverns detaching from their flock, leaving the storm cloud to dive bomb their prey. Screams and sounds of utter chaos filled the autumn air as the drakes picked up whichever unfortunate soul they could, sinking their claws and hoisting them into the air.


    ¡°Randal! Marsha!¡± Perriman yelled as he kicked the front door of this lavish home open.


    The head butler and the head maid quickly rushed down the stairs, worry etched on their faces.


    ¡°My Lord, what is going on outside?¡± Randal asked, hurrying over to his master and giving a quick bow.


    ¡°Wyverns. No time to explain.¡± replied Perriman, though his answer was an explanation in itself.


    ¡°Forget about packing. Get the family, get the servants, everyone. Take the horses and ride out towards the forest, ride like the wind. Make sure you stay as close as possible to the tree line of the estate until you hit the clearing. Do NOT turn back for even a moment.¡±


    ¡°My Lord, what about you?¡± Marsha interjected, eyes wide with panic when Perriman mentioned the drakes terrorizing the town.


    ¡°I will join you as post haste. Now go.¡± he shouted, rushing down the hallway towards the holding cells.


    His servants exchanged a look, thinking about staying with their lord, but knew better than to disobey. Perriman had entrusted them with the most important task, the safety and wellbeing of his family and rest of the estate staff. With one decisive nod, they swallowed their hesitancy and ran back up the stairs, Marsha almost tripping on the fifth step due to her long dress.


    Albrecht came crashing down the stairs like a whirlwind, swinging open the door of Layla¡¯s holding cell, keys jingling in his trembling hands.


    ¡°Get out. Quickly now.¡±


    He mumbled his words, looking pale as a sheet to Layla¡¯s surprise.


    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± she asked, not thinking twice about stepping out of the cell.


    ¡°Wyvern¡¯s fell upon the town. The Queen is to arrive soon, from the East gate. Flee and keep your head down.¡± continued the noble, grabbing Layla by the forearm and practically dragging her back up the stair to the ground floor of the mansion.


    His servants were as quick as they were efficient. Through the window, he could see Randal ushering everyone towards the stables, while Marsha made sure no one was being left behind.


    One by one, the horses left the stables with as many people on their back as they could carry and still be able to run fast.


    As the only two remaining servants, Randal and Marsha kept glancing at the mansion, waiting for the master to appear.


    The Wyverns spotted new prey, some detaching from the main flock once more, heading straight for the stables. With no more time to spare, the burly beastman grabbed Marsha by the waist and hoisted her up on the saddle on the second to last horse remaining in the stable.


    ¡°Randal, what are you-¡° the head maid asked, turning her head only to see Randal smack the horse on the read with all his might, sending the animal into a mad dash towards the tree line. The roof of the stable was torn off mere moment later, blade like talons sinking into the butler and hoisting him up.


    ¡°Randal!¡± Albrecht screamed, jumping through the window closest to him, disregarding the shattering glass. He ran a few feet before falling to his knees at the sight of the man who he grew up with being turned into a wishbone by the Wyverns.


    The insatiable creatures did not even take time to appreciate the quick meal before turning their sights on the next target. Marsha¡¯s horse, though unburdened by weight as it carried only one person, could not outrun the beasts. With a screech, the drakes soared higher, preparing to dive towards her.


    ¡°Merciful Goddess, extend your loving hand in the effort to shield your most devoted.¡± chanted the noble, mustering up his mana.


    ¡°Protection!¡± came a scream from his left. Layla had also joined him outside, now accompanied by her pants wearing cat. Without need for the entire chant, she cast a spell, wrapping Marsha in a protective barrier.


    Jaws clamped around the mana bubble, sending an uncomfortable shock through the entire body of the Wyvern that tried to sink its teeth into Marsha. It hissed, spitting out a tooth and soared back into the air, as the horse reached the tree line.


    ¡°I will hold them off. Run!¡± urged Perriman, getting back up on his feet and pushing the woman, before running off towards the stables.


    Inside one horse remained, one that he was most fond of riding whenever he went out hunting with his servants. Even when faced with death, the loyalty of his friend knew no bounds, as Randal did not take the horse like he was ordered, leaving the animal instead for Albrecht.


    The noble would¡¯ve shed a tear, if he had the time to do so.


    But time was something he was destitute of. Wyverns has their sights on Layla, who moved with surprising speed for someone that spent two weeks in cell, already reaching the garden by the time Perriman had reached the stables.


    As fast as she was however, escaping the beasts on foot through open terrain was impossible.


    Without a distraction at least.


    With a deep inhale, filling his lungs with grief and rage over the loss of his friend and dukedom to the beasts, the noble summoned up all his mana.


    ¡°Anvil of the Earth. Hammer of the Sky.¡± He clasped his hands together, the air around filling with a faint buzzing.


    ¡°I call upon your decisive swing, God of Forges, God of Might. Lay down your hammer on the impure and the unjust, let their backs be your anvil.¡±


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    Clouds above formed in a circle, turning blacker with each word, the grass on which he stood began to sear. Lightning flashed upwards to the sky in thick bolts, followed by cracking thunder. The translator stone attached to his shirt collar shattered like glass from the sheer amount of accumulated mana. Perriman stood in a circle of scorched soil, as the lightning bolts shooting upwards suddenly stopped, retracting back towards him. His hand outstretched, palm open, a blue seal slowly rotating around his wrist.


    ¡°Perish from my sight, you foul beasts. Feast on flesh in Hell.¡± he spat on the ground, inhaling deeply and unleashing his spell.


    The air cracked as a massive bolt of lightning shot out from his palm, illuminating the surroundings. It struck the Wyvern closest to Layla, followed by deafening thunder.


    The beast screeched and stopped flapping its winds, falling at full speed into one of the houses, tearing it down from roof to foundation.


    Layla simply covered her head with her arms and continued to run towards cover. She leapt over the main gate of the estate with ease and disappeared around the corner of the first alley she came across. The beasts would not pursue a single target into such a tight space, for it was not worth the effort.


    Instead, they looked down at their scorched kin, before roaring in unison and turning their attention over to the stables where Perriman stood.


    The duke was already on his horse, uttering a silent goodbye and thanks to Randal, before riding out towards the tree line, but aimed away from the woods where his family and servants were told to go. A few of the Wyverns, one closest in proximity to the scorched one, gave chase while the others resumed picking apart the town in search for more prey.


    ***


    With the town is absolute disarray, the majority of soldiers were already on their way to safety, just like Clyde ordered them to do.


    Staying behind were the two warhounds, Jeremy and a small handful of mechanics and an engineer, who desperately tried to keep the gate portal stable enough for the SPAD to cross over.


    Clyde watched as the storm cloud covered the sky and wyverns began spewing out like a ravenous swarm. The small ones were the first to detach from the flock, heading for the fleeing townsfolk in search of food. Adults however seemed different, not immediately descending to cause chaos, but looking for something. Finally, their heads locked in the portal gate and soldiers around it, but more importantly, the generators that kept the gate working.


    The largest one roared and as one the rest of the flock descended towards the town centre. They seemed to be ignoring the men entirely at first, focusing solely on destroying the generators, which proved to be a fairy simple task for the beasts. Clyde and the soldiers opened fire, but without proper equipment to deal with their fast movements and armour like scales there wasn¡¯t much they could do. In less than a minute, the wyverns tore the generators, picking them up and throwing them in the air. The portal wobbled and closed, as the gate powered down with a hum.


    ¡°Shit! Where did these things come from?¡± yelled one of the mechanics, before being swept up off his feet.


    ¡°No clue.¡± answered Clyde, despite the man who asked the question no longer being neither close enough nor alive enough to hear it.


    He could have sworn, drawing his first encounter with the wyverns a year prior from memory, that these things were operating under orders, not just on instinct. Up until they disabled the portal and destroyed their equipment at least. Now, it was utter chaos, as the larger drakes joined their younglings in tearing apart the duchy in search for anyone unfortunate enough to still not have fled.


    ¡°Keep your heads down.¡± the warhound said to the others, grabbing a shotgun from one of the weapon crates right as he was picked up a nasty pair of jaws.


    In a second, Clyde found himself in the jaws of a wyvern, looking upside at the Perriman estate. The wyvern had more than half of him in its jaws, teeth trying to sink into the protective vest he wore under his white shirt. Pressing his left hand against the beast¡¯s lower jaw and pushing against its upper jaw with his leg, Clyde manage to force the mouth open just enough to aim the shotgun he held in right hand at the back of its throat and pulled the trigger. The slug had no problem going through the back of the drake¡¯s head once fired from the inside of its mouth.


    ¡°The inside of their mouth is vulnerable!¡± he yelled while falling through the roof of the only inn in the town, along with the dead wyvern.


    ¡°No shit! Why didn¡¯t we think of that?!¡± Jeremy screamed back, laying flat on the ground, covering his head with his arms, while trying to army crawl to an alley.


    The ground shifted beneath him and he was suddenly pulled down into a tunnel. Marcel was already there, his Gungams digging through the soil.


    ¡°This way to Clyde.¡± The short soldier began moving through the tunnel, motioning for Jeremy to follow.


    ¡°Got anyone else down here?¡± asked Jeremy.


    Marcel merely shook his head.


    ¡°No, sadly the mechanics are gone.¡±


    The pair crawled through the tunnel dug by the lizards, until they broke ground right under the inn floor. Clyde was already there, laying on the floor. Despite being slightly beat up, he seemed unharmed.


    ¡°So, what do we do now?¡± he asked.


    They say there for a few moments, listening to the screeching of the beasts above. The streets have gone silent for the most part, the denizens of the town either escaped, hid or got eaten.


    As the wyverns lingered, roaming the streets and circling the town from the air, Clyde was not certain they weren¡¯t here just by coincidence. They were actively looking for the three of them.


    ¡°Think we can wait them out?¡± Jeremy peeked out the window, looking at the shadows the beast cast on the ground, barely visible by the storm cloud above.


    ¡°No chance in hell. They seem to be looking for us no doubt, and they will probably start tearing houses apart until they find us. Ourunning them on foot? Not a chance.¡± the bruised warhound replied, propping himself up against the wall.


    Clyde and his comrades knew his was right, but hoped that proof of his theory would not come as soon. Barely as the words left the man¡¯s mouth, the beasts descended upon the inn, tearing off the roof piece by piece, gnawing at the walls as well.


    The Wyverns had their scent and escape from this situation seemed an unlikely outcome.


    ¡°Well fellas, it¡¯s been a pleasure.¡± Jeremy sighed, pulling his pistol from its holster.


    None of them were equipped to make even a dent on the flying lizards, but they did not intent to die without wasting ammo.


    Suddenly, a trumpet sounded from a few houses up the street, coming from the Eastern side of town. At this point, the three soldiers were standing practically out in the open, the tavern they were in torn apart plank by plank, safe for the floor and a few tables.


    The trumpet sound ended as abruptly as it began, before an overwhelming presence filled the air. Air felt diluted, like they were suddenly on top of a mountain, struggling to get their lungs full. Clyde could feel hair on his arms stand on end, cold sweat washing over him.


    All three of them felt like they were about to die, a sense of primal fear filling their being.


    Never before did the soldiers feel that kind of panic, like staring down the jaws of an insurmountable beast ready to make them their next meal. The wyverns scattered without a second thought, not even trying to reform their storm cloud. They flew without formation, fleeing for their lives back towards the Northern fields from which they came.


    The ground felt as if it was shaking, an invisible pressure hammering from above, forcing them to the ground.


    "What''s going on?" Marcel wheezed, dropping to one knee.


    Jeremy followed suit, unable to even form a sentence and just shaking his head in response.


    Clyde was the only one who managed to remain on his feet but they felt as if someone had welded them in place.


    Despite being unable to feel mana, the men felt this overwhelming aura radiating off the woman that just appeared up the street, riding an armoured horse. Her long hair, unnaturally crimson, was flowing in the wind. Others followed her, knights on horseback and foot soldiers, several of them carrying banners with the insignia of the royal family.


    Her armour began to shine, reflecting the rays of sun that reappeared once the fleeing wyverns took the storm cloud with them.


    The convoy stopped not too far from the other-worlders, the aura of the Dragon Soul Queen slowly simmering down.


    Her eyes, fiercely red like her hair, pierced the invaders with wrathful scorn.


    ¡°Seize them at once.¡± she ordered, as two knights hopped off their horses and began approaching.


    Clyde figured they must be her main guard, since their armours looked much better in design and more decorated than the rest. His right hand instinctively moved to his side, reaching for his revolver. Before he could blink the soldier felt cold, sharp steel press against his neck. Without moving his head, Clyde looked at his comrades who were in the same situation.


    The knights have closed a distance of over two houses length in less than a second.


    ¡°So much as twitch without the Queen¡¯s approval, and I will slit your throat gleefully.¡± growled the knight before him, pressing the blade harder against Clyde¡¯s neck.

 Chapter 12 - The kinks of magic

    ¡°Solon. Solon, wake up.¡± Sheela kicked the solder in the side, making the man jolt awake.


    ¡°What is it woman? Have you no soul?¡± he groaned, sitting up and rubbing his ribs.


    Solon looked up at her, frowning as he internally answered his own question.


    ¡°We¡¯re finally seeing the end of the desert.¡± The witch pointed behind herself with her thumb.


    The carriage was no longer moving smoothly, the sand of the desert replaced by the bumpy ground of the plates. Solon made the sign of the cross with his good hand, thanking God for seeing the end of the damn ocean of sand. It¡¯s been almost two weeks since they escaped the gladiatorial arena and if it weren¡¯t for Sheela and her magic, he¡¯d probably die of hunger or thirst, most likely both.


    She had absolute dominion over the desert even in her diminished, mortal state. Solon had noticed magic slowly returning to her, becoming more and more potent. Sheela no longer struggled to part the dunes in search of animals they could eat or force rainfall on a whim, though the latter left her exhausted every time.


    Despite not speaking the same language, the beastfolk boy warmed up to both Solon and Sheela. The pair gave him the reigns of the carriage, since he was the only one who knew the way out of the desert. From attempted conversations Solon learned the boy¡¯s name to be Zeg¡¯ for now. What that meant, the mercenary wasn¡¯t sure. He asked the witch how come she doesn¡¯t understand the language of the beastfolk.


    ¡°They were nothing more than savage beasts when I last came across one. Not a single word that could be considered language.¡± was Sheela¡¯s answer.


    Dunes and rocks gave way to shrubs and forests as the group left the desert behind them. Solon never thought he¡¯d be so overjoyed to see a tree. Zeg¡¯ was taking them back to his tribe, according to Sheela. Beastfolk lived in tribal communities, mostly keeping to themselves. Their lack of involvement in anything outside their tribe made them a prime target for slavers and underground fighting rings, since there were very few laws that actually protected them from exploitation, especially on the south side of the continent.


    The carriage reached the treeline of a small forest as the sun began to set. Zeg¡¯ yawned behind the reigns, struggling to keep his eyes open. Worten, the name that Solon learned is what this world called the horse-like creatures pulling the carriage, also seemed pretty exhausted. They were specifically bred for deserts, so the rocky terrain of the plates made the animals tire much faster than normal.


    ¡°I suppose we can hunker down here for the night.¡± said the mercenary, hopping out of the wagon.


    ¡°Think you can grab us some firewood Sheela?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± replied Sheela, much to the soldier''s surprise.


    ¡°You can¡¯t just float over some branches?¡± he continued, raising an eyebrow above his fake eye.


    ¡°No.¡± Sheela shook her head.


    ¡°My magic is no good here.¡±


    This answer left Solon perplexed, but he knew better than to question the witch at this point. He just nodded and hiked over to the trees, starting to gather wood for the fire.


    Sheela remained seated in the wagon, looking completely drained while Zeg¡¯ ran around, picking and feeding different weeds to the worten.


    As the sun set and the ringed moon had risen, the group sat around the fire in silence.


    Sheela and the kid warmed their hands and bare feet, Solon sitting opposite of them, checking his mechanical arm.


    ¡°So.¡± he finally broke the silence.


    ¡°How¡¯s it work?¡±


    ¡°Magic?¡± Sheela looked up at him, already knowing what he had meant.


    ¡°Yeah. I¡¯m curious how you seemed so almighty in the desert, but can¡¯t even float a stick here.¡±


    She frowned at the comment but said nothing.


    ¡°Well. Everything here has mana.¡± the witch began, her golden eyes looking at the cracking fire.


    ¡°Expound.¡± said the mercenary.


    ¡°Everything in this world has mana. Mana is the force that connects consciousness to matter and energy. The link between the three. It is interwoven in the very foundation of the world.¡±


    Sheela reached for a stick that Zeg¡¯ used to poke at the fire, taking it from the boy''s hands and pointing it at Solon.


    ¡°This stick contains mana, the same way I contain mana.¡±


    ¡°That tells me very little.¡± Solon said, looking at the stick.


    ¡°Mana allows different things to interact with each other. Back in the days of old, the scholars called it Mana Resonance.¡±


    ¡°So that stick can cast a spell on that rock over there?¡± Solon pointed at a nearby rock with a half smirk on his face.


    ¡°No. Unless the stick is sentient. Mana is connected to consciousness, and can be manipulated through it. Put simply: Mana allows us to shape the world without needing to physically interact with it.¡± Sheela continued.


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    ¡°Sounds too simple.¡± the mercenary said.


    ¡°It does. But it isn¡¯t. Raw mana, mana found in matter and energy which compose this world, has a single resonance. Same¡­ tune for most.¡± She picked her words, trying to use language the man could understand.


    ¡°Same wave length.¡± he added.


    ¡°Yes. You could call it that.¡± Sheela nodded, a small smile appearing on her face, a sign she was glad he understood.


    ¡°With conscious beings like me or Zeg¡¯, everything has a unique wave length, as you put it.¡±


    ¡°So, to cast a spell, you have to synch your own tune to the world around you?¡±


    ¡°Clever, Solon. I guess intelligence is contagious. Just fourteen moons in my presence and you¡¯ve went from having bricks for brains to being able to think.¡± She laughed, much to the soldier¡¯s annoyance.


    ¡°But no. It¡¯s actually the opposite. Raw mana is easily manipulated, so the caster influences it with his own.¡±


    Solon nodded, seemingly interested in this discovery.


    ¡°Continue.¡±


    ¡°Everything has mana. Different amounts of it. Like muscles, you can train your mana.¡± Sheela continued her lecture.


    ¡°And like muscles, I assume there is a limit to how much you can grow your mana.¡± Solon pointed out.


    At this point Zeg¡¯ had crawled back into the carriage, curling up on some rags and fell asleep, uninterested in the conversation that was taking place by the fire.


    ¡°Yes. The more mana you have, the easier it is to influence the world around you. But it¡¯s not just a numbers game. Just because someone has a great amount of mana, doesn¡¯t mean they are good at controlling the ¡®tune¡¯ of it.¡± the witch continued, extending both her hands towards the fire.


    ¡°Since mana is influenced by consciousness, you have to be able to visualise what you want it do.¡± Sheela said while focusing, causing the fire to begin swirling until it rose like a pillar up to the height of her outstretched hands.


    ¡°That is why spells and incantations exist. They don¡¯t really evoke a higher power, like some mages would have you believe, since they usually begin their chants by calling out to the seven divines or the like. It is because when spoken aloud, they can visualise the spell they¡¯re about to cast and it helps them focus better.¡± She paused for a moment, looking at the man as if a thought had just occurred in her mind.


    ¡°You¡¯ve met the elves. Most of their mages use quick casting, basically casting with a single word focus or sometimes without even so much as a word. But you have no mana. None. The reason you are not affected by magic, mine or anyone else¡¯s, is because there is no mana within you to resonate.¡± the former genie spoke, furrowing her brow in contemplation.


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand.¡± Solon said half-heartedly.


    ¡°When two mages or two entities with magic engage in battle, the first one to lose control of their mana resonance loses. Simply put, when I cast a spell to make you blow up, it is my mana overpowering yours and forcing it in the same ¡®tune¡¯ or flow. Defensive magic is just that, resisting the opponents attempt to influence your mana with theirs. That''s how it used to be at least, back before I was trapped in that damned temple.¡± Sheela explained.


    ¡°So, you¡¯re saying you can blow me up because you have more mana than me?¡± the mercenary asked, chuckling a bit at the notion.


    ¡°No, you idiot. It means I can¡¯t blow you up, because you have no mana. Your body does not contain mana, nor can it ever attain mana. Not just your body, your entire world apparently.¡± she pointed at his metal arm.


    ¡°Your metal, even your clothes do not have any mana. It is simply not something that constitutes the world you come from. So, you¡¯re immune to it because no one can force resonance on something that doesn¡¯t exist.¡± Sheela mumbled more to herself at this point, as if checking her own theory for any holes.


    ¡°So, I¡¯ll never become a wizard?¡± Solon asked, trying not to laugh.


    She looked at him and waved her hand dismissively at his joke, before leaning over.


    ¡°If you are immune to magic, how were you teleported all the way to my desert temple?¡±


    ¡°Well, I wasn¡¯t teleported per say. The spell wasn¡¯t cast on me. An elf called Lymlock actually opened a small portal behind me, then another of the pointy eared bastards drop kicked me through it.¡± the soldier explained bitterly while Sheela grinned.


    ¡°You could have just shot them.¡± she pointed out.


    ¡°Your arm is also a weapon, right? And you have a gun on your hip.¡±


    Sheela stopped for a moment, thinking back on the events in the gladiatorial arena.


    ¡°Come to think of it, you¡¯ve threatened to shoot me multiple times, yet I¡¯ve never seen you use your weapons a single time.¡±


    ¡°Truth be told, I ran out of ammo. This arm can only hold 4 shots, as a last resort in case I don¡¯t have time to reload my main weapon or sidearm. Lost my rifle that night against the elves, and my sidearm I didn¡¯t get a chance to reload, because the fight went from a gunfight to a melee pretty quickly.¡± Solon confessed, his lip quivering in an attempt to prevent a grin from spreading due to how furious Sheela looked when told the truth.


    The witch was furious indeed. Despite her high and mighty behaviour, she was mortal ever since Solon freed her. And he was immune to her magic, which still hasn¡¯t fully returned to its peak. She always kept a warning in the back of her mind, that if Solon wanted to shoot her dead, he would not struggle too hard to do it. To think he was so boldly lying to her face, making sure to keep her in check with empty threats; her pride could not allow such transgression.


    ¡°Yeah, those elves sure are sneaky fuckers. Especially at night, on their turf. They isolated me from my squad and jumped me from all angles.¡± Solon continued, but he didn¡¯t care much about what he was saying, because he knew Sheela wasn¡¯t listening anymore.


    She was just glaring at him, her golden eyes staring daggers while illuminated by the fire.


    ¡°You dick. Hm! My magic was too good for you anyways. When I kill you, it will be by dropping a big rock on your already dented head.¡± the witch hissed, getting up from the ground, not breaking eye contact with the soldier for even a moment.


    ¡°Will you be lifting it with magic or will you be using those dainty arms to do it?¡± the mercenary was grinning ear to ear at this point, shoulders trembling from laughter he was fighting back.


    Sheela climbed into the wagon without another word. She simply snapped her fingers, causing the still spinning pillar of flame to collapse in on itself, putting out the fire and also covering Solon with smoke and soot. Solon¡¯s coughing was just the satisfying sound she needed to drift off to sleep, as she laid next to Zeg¡¯.

 Chapter 13 - Beastfolk

    Having a tangible body is a weakness. Sheela was reminded of that fact in the most horrific way. Through the fog of sleep, she felt Solon¡¯s metal hand wrap around her ankle, but before she could process what was about to happen an unholy sensation shot through her entire body. Her nerves were lit ablaze with unwelcomed tingles, making her jolt as if she were stuck by lightning. The witch¡¯s eyes shot open as she yelped, immediately looking down at her feet. Solon was sitting, holding her by her left ankle and raking his fingers across the sole of her foot, with the smuggest, most mocking grin plastered on his face.


    ¡°Morning Sheela. Sleeeep weeell?¡± He said, drawing out the words.


    Before his fingers could rake across foot again, the witch propped herself up with her arms and kicked the soldier with her free leg, not holding back any force. Solon however was faster, blocking her kick with his metal arm. Sheela gritted her teeth, feeling the staticky tingling crawl up her spine, making her hair stand on end.


    ¡°Fuck you, you¡­¡± she hissed to herself through gritted teeth and eyes closed shut, rubbing her right foot.


    ¡°Get up. The sun is shining. Zeg¡¯ already got us breakfast." said the soldier, jumping out of the wagon and walking over to the beastfolk boy. The kid was cracking eggs that he had found in nearby birds¡¯ nests onto a flat rock placed over the fire.


    Sheela yawned, joining the two of her companions sitting around the fire. The eggs were partially dripping from the rock, as it did not have time to properly heat up before Zeg¡¯ started cracking them over it. ¡®Stuck to a random rock¡¯ styled eggs was not the worst breakfast Solon had in his life, but it was the first questionably cooked meal he had since he got stuck in the desert. In his opinion, half burnt-half runny eggs, sunny side up, from an unknown species of bird, was an upgrade from eating raw desert lizards and scorpions.


    ¡°Not used to the cold?¡± the man asked, looking up at the witch wrapped in cloth from the wagon like a Bedouin.


    ¡°Yeah. The desert gets cold at night, but I¡¯m not used to days being chilly too. This is a different kind of cold.¡± Sheela replied, watching the mercenary use a rock to sharpen some sticks to use as utensils.


    ¡°It is autumn and morning. Makes sense,¡± said Solon while handing each of them a pointy stick.


    Sheela was a bit apprehensive about their breakfast but hunger gnawing at her insides cleared that sensation pretty easily. She stabbed the mushy egg with her stick, pulling a piece of it off the rock and bringing it up to her mouth. The flavour was nothing remarkable, the texture making her face scrunch up in disgust as she swallowed without chewing and shuddered.


    ¡°Ugh¡­¡±


    Between the human mercenary and the beastfolk boy were very few differences in the way they devoured their breakfast. In terms of culinary delights, meat on a stick was the pinnacle of beastfolk culinary achievements and remained on that pedestal for centuries.


    As for the human, if he is anything like the human soldiers of her world, then he would not have trouble eating anything as long as it provided sustenance and didn¡¯t outright poison him.


    With breakfast finished, Solon took the flat cooking rock with his metal arm and flung it like a throwing disc in the direction from which they came, while Zeg¡¯ whistled and clapped at the incredible distance that the rock was thrown.


    Sheela was still sitting by the fire, warming her hands and feet, while the worten grazed on patches of grass strewn about the mostly sandy ground.


    ¡°Ready to hit the road? Hopefully, the kid¡¯s tribe will at least point us in the direction of a village or something. I have no idea where the fuck I am in relation to where I was if I¡¯m being honest.¡± Solon turned to Sheela, walking over to the fire and kicking sand and dirt over it to put it out.


    While he helped the witch to her feet, the beastfolk kid suddenly let out a screech, causing both of them to suddenly turn around. Zeg¡¯ was standing a few feet away from them, pointing towards the start of the plates, at a dust cloud moving towards them.


    Solon closed his right eye so the left one could do its job and zoom in on the cloud.


    Without a warning, he grabbed the kid and tossed him like a sack into the wagon.


    ¡°What is going on?¡± Sheela asked.


    ¡°We have company. Seems we weren¡¯t disguising our tracks as well as we thought. I can¡¯t say for sure who those dudes are, but they aren¡¯t rushing over to eat eggs stuck to a rock, that¡¯s for sure. Get in.¡± the mercenary replied.


    The tall witch did not think twice before hopping in the wagon. Zeg¡¯ was already at the reigns, trying to get the animals to move, but they did not seem to comply. He tugged and waved the reigns, yelling at the worten as they kept grazing, making the kid grow more and more frustrated by the second, glancing over his shoulder at the dust cloud that was fast approaching.


    ¡°Fuck this,¡± Solon growled, grabbing the sheet off Sheela and swirling it while holding one of the edges until it rolled itself into a makeshift whip.


    ¡°We used to do this back in high school.¡± He smiled briefly while swill swirling the now rolled-up sheet and walking up to the front of the wagon.


    ¡°Move you fucking deadbeats! Mush! Hya!¡± yelled the soldier, using the rolled-up as a makeshift whip to smack the animals in their rear.


    The effects were immediate as the animals stopped eating and began moving, going from a light jog to somewhat of a gallop, tugging on the wagon so abruptly that it made Solon lose his footing and fall backwards onto Sheela.


    ¡°Get off me.¡± She groaned, pushing the man off her thighs, before turning to look at their pursuers in the distance.


    ¡°Think we¡¯ll get away from them?¡±


    ¡°Doubt it. I¡¯m aiming for us to reach deeper into the trees and hope to juke them in there. They are faster than this carriage, that¡¯s for certain.¡± he replied, sitting up.


    The carriage moved at what Solon could only assume was top speed, but the incline of the plate and heavy wagon meant they were not moving as fast as he would¡¯ve liked.


    ¡°Sheela, throw some magic at them. Rocks and shit, I don¡¯t know.¡± He turned to her and yelled, looking around the wagon for anything that could be used as a weapon, but besides big pieces of cloth, several empty bags and an empty crate, there wasn¡¯t anything.


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    ¡°I can¡¯t.¡± replied the witch, causing Solon to give her a puzzled look.


    She sighed, not even having to hear the words to know the questioning look on his face.


    ¡°During my tenure as Queen of the Dunes, before I got trapped in that vase, I fused most of my mana with the desert itself, making it basically an extension of myself. Hence why I could use it easily, even though my mana has barely recovered since I got my mortal body back!¡±


    With a sigh the mercenary just facepalmed himself with his good hand, nodding as if this surprise was to be expected. His hand slipped from his forehead, across his face and to his chin, where he rubbed his beard in contemplation, occasionally glancing at their pursuers.


    The group chasing after them was now close enough that he could see the riders without the need to use his left eye¡¯s zoom function.


    ¡°Well, I¡¯ve dug myself out of deeper shit,¡± Solon mumbled, grabbing the piece of cloth and rolling it back up.


    Sheela took deep breaths, focusing and channelling her mana, not wanting to rely solely on the mercenary for protection and definitely not wanting to be back in the gladiatorial arena¡¯s holding cell. Shouting and hollering came from the group behind them, the absolutely furious thugs pushing their mounts to their limit, the animals wheezing and huffing as they ran.


    They encircled the wagon, waving clubs and swords at the human, trying to stab or knock him off. Several of them armed with spear-like weapons, tried stabbing Solon, but the soldier proved too quick to hit.


    Despite the chaos, the mercenary remained pretty calm, avoiding getting hit pretty easily. He managed to grab one of the spears and yanked it from the hands of the bandit. With a mechanical arm, this proved incredibly easy. The thug yelled something while falling off his mount right under the wagon¡¯s back wheel, causing the carriage to bump a bit as it ran over him.


    Solon, now armed with a spear had an easier time warding off the attackers since they had swords, which meant in terms of the range they were at a disadvantage.


    Sheela finally mustered enough mana to help out, using simple spells like mana blasts to knock several more thugs off their saddle. Realizing their current approach isn¡¯t bearing any fruit, several bandits pulled out rope nets from their bags, a typical tool for slavers and their hired thugs. The witch feeling exhaustion began to overtake her, didn¡¯t pay enough attention to notice the net thrown her way with surprising accuracy.


    ¡°Shit! Solon!¡± Sheela cried out as she struggled to free herself without getting tangled up even more. The net was attached to a rope held by one of the thugs, just waiting for his prey to get fully stuck so he could yank her out of the wagon.


    The mercenary was quicker. Before Sheela even cried out for him, his left hand grabbed the pulling rope while using the spearhead to cut it. As soon as the witch was free, Solon tossed the net into the crowd, causing several mounts to get their legs tangled in the rope and tumble head over heel onto the ground, sending their riders flying out of the saddle or crushing them beneath the weight of their mounts.


    ¡°Where¡¯s the fucking treeline?!¡± Solon yelled out, turning to see how far up the hill they¡¯d gotten, feeling like they¡¯d been in pursuit for far too long.


    ¡°Zeg¡¯ get those animals moving. I don¡¯t care if you have to stick your foot up their asses, I want them flying up this fucking hill like they¡¯re sponsored by Red Bull!¡±


    Though not understanding the human¡¯s language, the beastfolk boy understood what the man was telling him to do. He began yelling at the wortens and when that didn¡¯t work, he took a piece of cloth like Solon and began wailing on their behinds. That proved to be as effective as it was the first time. The treeline was fast approaching, so the boy pulled on the reigns, slowing the carriage down just enough to avoid ramming the entire thing into the first tree in front of them. His quick thinking was the bandits¡¯ oversight, as they did not slow down, pushing their mounts even faster, thinking that the worten pulling the carriage had finally exhausted themselves. Almost half of them either welcomed the painful embrace of the tree trunks they rode into or had their mounts trip over themselves in an attempt to avoid collision with the trees.


    ¡°These thugs just don¡¯t know when to quit.¡± Sheela hissed between gritted teeth, wiping sweat from her forehead while channelling what remaining mana she had.


    Aiming spells while weaving between trees proved a tough challenge even for an experienced mage like her. Some blasts hit the attackers but most seared trees and branches.


    The forest quickly became denser and denser, the carriage bouncing wildly more often as its wheels flew over thick roots sticking from the soil. Finally, one of the wheels met its match, getting stuck on a particularly large root and getting torn off the wagon, causing the entire carriage to flip over on the side. Solon grabbed Zeg¡¯ and jumped out together with Sheela before the wagon could flip over on top of them. Sheela was slightly disoriented from the tumble while the soldier was already on his feet, checking the kid for any damage, flipping him around as he held him.


    ¡°Sheela, take the kid and go. I¡¯ll try to hold them off.¡± the mercenary said, shoving the boy into her arms as what remained of their mounter pursuers quickly approached.


    Without a word, the former genie nodded and took off running with Zeg¡¯ tossed over her right shoulder, leaving the man behind. The two didn¡¯t make it more than a few meters, as a spear blew past them, knocking the closest banding off his saddle. One after the other, more and more came flying from every direction, hitting their targets with lethal accuracy. Soon not even a handful of them remained. Deciding to cut their losses, the survivors halted their pursuit and began riding back out of the woods, as spears managed to take down a few more of them while they fled.


    Sheela stopped head in her tracks as a tall, panther-looking beastman appeared from the thicket, pointing the tip of his spear right at her.


    ¡°Solon,¡± she called out.


    ¡°I know, I know.¡± replied the man, finding himself in the same situation as her, staring down the yellow eyes of the beastfolk in front of him.


    They were surrounded as the entire hunting party emerged from the treetops and brushes one by one. Solon was honestly feeling quite tired of meeting one hostile group of people after another in such a short span of time, but he kept his hands raised and walked backwards towards Sheela, making sure not to make any sudden moves that would get him stabbed.


    Zeg¡¯ wormed himself free from Sheela¡¯s grasp, waving his hands and talking to the beastfolk in their native tongue. After a few more seconds of suspense and intense staring, the group lowered their spears.


    ¡°What¡¯s he saying?¡± the mercenary whispered, leaning towards the witch so she could hear better.


    Her pointy ear twitched a bit from how close he was.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s saying you mean no harm.¡± came from the back of the group.


    An older-looking beastman, wearing hunting garments that consisted of leather clothes decorated with leaves and small teeth, approached them. His fur was dark, nearly pitch black, with a few patches of grey mostly around his snout and eyes. On his belt was a shining, almost translucent stone that would flicker every time either of them spoke.


    ¡°You saved this boy, have you not?¡± the man asked, walking over to the front of the group.


    ¡°I apologize for the spear-tipped welcome, our tribe is not exactly on good terms with outside folk. My name is Tharzin, I am the current head of this tribe.¡±


    Tharzin patted Zeg¡¯ on the head, extending his hand towards Solon and Sheela.


    ¡°This is how you hairless folk facilitate a good greeting, correct?¡±


    Solon shook the chief¡¯s hand without much hesitation and Sheela did the same, though with less enthusiasm.


    ¡°Phew, you guys sure came in a clutch.¡± said the mercenary, starting off the sentence with a quick whistle that made the beastman¡¯s ears twitch.


    On closer inspection Thazrin seemed to be a grizzled but honest individual, his fur interrupted by occasional scars, each sure to hold a hunting tale worth hearing. His handshake was firm, which seemed to be enough for Solon to make a good first impression of the man.


    ¡°Those thugs will not be returning after you, that I can assure you. You are in beastfolk territory now, these woods are our home. Come, you must be tired, you sure look like you are. The desert is kind to none, be they beast or man.¡± Tharzin patted the soldier on his metal shoulder, almost as if to inspect it, before ushering both of them to follow the hunters back to the tribe¡¯s home.

 Chapter 14 - Nothing without fists

    ¡°I can¡¯t help but ask, how come you can understand us?¡± Asked Solon, as the group walked through the dense forest.


    Tharzin turned to look at the man, before pointing to the shining rock on his belt.


    ¡°Translator stone. One of our tribesmen brought it from an adventure.¡±


    ¡°How¡¯s it work?¡± continued the mercenary.


    ¡°I haven¡¯t the foggiest. All I know is folks use it to understand other folks.¡± Replied the chief.


    It took the group about half a day to reach the camp that the beastfolk called their home.


    The late autumn sun had already begun to set by then, making the forest even darker than it was. Neither Solon nor the beastfolk had any trouble navigating through the thick foliage and tangled roots but Sheela was not blessed with night vision or artificial eyes, so she would trip over roots and have leaves smack her in the face quite often. Each time the witch would silently cuss under her breath.


    ¡°Doing alright over there, your Highness?¡± Solon asked in a mocking tone.


    A raised middle finger was the only answer the witch provided. She breathed a sigh of relief once the brushes thinned and the tribe¡¯s camp came into view. Huts made from wood and leather pelts filled the small clearing, the sky above still concealed by intertwining branches. Several fires were lit, many of them having different pots hung over them. Children ran around playing, while the women cooked or tended to the camp.


    Zeg¡¯ bolted forward, shouting and waving his arms. The entire camp stopped dead in its tracks, looking over at the boy. One of the women dropped a pot she was cleaning before dashing the beastfolk kid, practically tackling him into a hug. Zeg¡¯ responded in kind, both of them breaking into tears. Others quickly gathered around, mindfully giving the pair some space.


    ¡°What are they saying?¡± Solon leaned over to Sheela.


    ¡°No clue. I assume that¡¯s the boy¡¯s mother.¡± The witch responded.


    ¡°You assume correct,¡± Tharzin added, as the beastwoman wiped her tears and stood up, moving over to the mercenary and witch with hurried steps.


    Sheela tried to avoid the incoming hug but was not prepared for the sheer intensity of the panther woman¡¯s gratitude. She was squeezed tightly, wheezing like a deflating balloon, while the mother of the boy rained kisses all over her cheeks. While Sheela was left picking stray hairs from her clothes, the mother moved over to Solon, giving him the same treatment. Feeling his metal arm, she suddenly pulled back and looked at the man, before asking him something.


    ¡°What¡¯s she saying?¡± the mercenary turned to the chieftain.


    ¡°She¡¯s asking where you found¡­ Hold on. Yarlee! Get those translator stones Nattarri brought from one of her adventures!¡± He yelled out.


    Moments later a young beastfolk girl, not much older than Zeg¡¯ in appearance, ran over with a small leather pouch in her hands.


    ¡°Here Grandpa.¡±


    Tharzin turned the baggie over, shaking it until two translucent stones fell into his palm. He looked over Solon and Sheela, deciding where it would be best to attach the rocks. For the mercenary, he attached one to his belt and Sheela attached it to her bracelet herself. The rocks took a couple of seconds to come to life, softly shining just like the one on Tharzin¡¯s belt.


    ¡°Now.¡± he extended his hand to the woman, letting her know she could continue taking.


    ¡°Where have you found my son?¡± the boy''s mother asked Solon, looking him dead in the eyes.


    ¡°Uh, the slave caravan. Him and the genie over there got captured and taken to a fighting ring.¡± responded the soldier, feeling a little uneasy from the intensity of her stare.


    ¡°Thank you.¡± She sighed.


    ¡°He takes much after his sister. Dreaming of becoming an adventurer one day. But that brings nothing except trouble.¡±


    The woman turned to the boy, looking angrily at him. His safe return would not spare the boy from the impending scolding he was about to receive. Knowing this Zeg¡¯ timidly looked in the opposite direction, his ears flat against his head.


    ¡°Don¡¯t look away when I¡¯m talking to you. You and your sister will put me in the ground before my time from all the worry.¡± said the mother, her attention now fully on the boy.


    Solon understood but still decided to sneak away the second her attention was diverted. This was something not even a skilled soldier could save the boy from. He joined Sheela and the other hunters sitting around a large campfire. The beastfolk quickly went from acting reserved to chatting and laughing with one another. This fever of good company even caught Sheela, the witch smiling while talking to Tharzin and a few other hunters. Nattarri¡¯s name came up several times throughout the conversation.


    ¡°Don¡¯t mind me asking Thrazin, but who is this Nattarri? Besides Zeg¡¯s sister.¡± Solon asked, sitting down on a felled log next to Sheela.


    As soon as he sat down, the witch changed her attitude back to her regular pompous demeanour.


    ¡°She¡¯s an adventurer. Like her father, she went out into the world, feeling the tribal community a bit too stifling. Adventurers are our only connection to the outside world if I¡¯m honest. She comes back with gifts, like those stones, four times a year, once during each season.¡± Explained the chief.


    ¡°She¡¯s quite the influence on Zeg¡¯ it seems,¡± Sheela added.


    ¡°What older sibling isn¡¯t?¡± Tharzin smiled before looking into the fire, seemingly getting lost in thought.


    They feasted late into the night. Sheela was surprised by the taste of their food, considering how bland the preparation method seemed, the feast consisting of chowder and meat roasted over an open flame. Solon was far from complaining, finding new love in dark green alcohol the beastfolk drank, made from various herbs and leaves. He asked Tharzin for its name but drank so much he almost forgot his own.


    The pair was given one of the spare tents to sleep in, much to Sheela¡¯s disapproval. Sharing bedding with the very man who screwed her over, the very thought of it made her stomach churn. Luckily, she ended up having the tent all to herself, as Solon passed out on the log he was sitting on.


    ***


    The morning sun barely got its rays through the thick forest as the tribe was already on its feet, tackling daily duties. Celebration of Zeg¡¯s safe return concluded the previous night, dawn bringing whispers of suspicion over the Desertfolk woman and her strange companion.


    The man did not speak their language but which humans did? He felt different from them, however.


    Metal was not something humans could graft to their bodies. Could he have returned the boy in order to get the tribe to drop their guard, then bring slavers back to capture even more of them? Neither he nor the woman had any weapons on them, and the woman¡¯s magic was barely enough to fend off some bandits. It would be impossible for them to rescue Zeg¡¯ from an underground ring unarmed.


    Concern and conspiracies spread and grew like wildfire the higher the sun rose. By the time Sheela woke up, the tribe already silently planned how to get rid of them. The witch could feel fear and resentment hiding behind their pleasant smiles. She looked around for Solon, but he was nowhere to be found. Sounds of vomiting further away from her tent revealed both the man¡¯s location and his regret from drinking too much the previous night.


    Wiping his chin with his sleeve, the man stumbled out from the brushes.


    ¡°God damn it. Can¡¯t remember the last time I got this fucked up.¡±


    He walked over to Sheela, stretching his back which cracked a few times, followed by a groan.


    ¡°Morning. They serving breakfast yet? I was thinking we ask Tharzin to have one of the tribe¡¯s hunters escort us out of the forest.¡±


    ¡°I think so,¡± Sheela responded; her voice oddly timid. Solon took notice of her unease but said nothing.


    The pair moved towards the centre of the camp where the beastfolk were gathering. As they sat down, the tribe members kept a slight but noticeable distance from them, keeping chatter and conversation with them to a minimum. Tharzin, the tribe¡¯s chief, finally broke the nervous tension.


    ¡°Have the two of you slept well?¡± the chief asked.


    ¡°Well, one of us did,¡± Sheela replied, a smile creeping on her face while glancing at her dishevelled companion.


    Solon ate in silence, too tired to even respond to her taunts. He looked up at the elderly beastman, mulling over the words in his mind.


    ¡°Thank you for your hospitality Tharzin. I have one more request to ask of you and your people. Could you provide us with an escort to the other end of the forest? We aim to keep going North.¡± said the mercenary.


    The chief wore his emotions on his face, munching on a piece of meat.


    ¡°Big thing you ask of me. Escorting you means less capable men left to defend the tribe.¡±


    Solon could sense where this was going but indulged the chief since they had no other option.


    ¡°Spill it Tharzin. You risk choking on all those questions you¡¯ve got in the back of your throat,¡± he said coldly.


    A brief smile flashed over the chief¡¯s face. The human was a gutsy one, no doubt about it.


    ¡°You told Sylvana that you rescued her son from an underground fighting ring. Yet I see no weapons on you. And you travel with an unarmed witch who barely has any mana, wrapped in sheets. And you want us to believe you singlehandedly broke into where the slavers hold their merchandise, freed the boy and escaped without a single injury?¡±


    With those words the fa?ade the tribe held up crumbled. They were no longer smiling or talking about the weather. All eyes were on Solon, all ears perked up to hear his response.


    He opened his mouth to speak but Sheela beat him to the punch.


    ¡°He¡¯s a soldier. A mercenary. A damn good one at that. I was captured too, but he got me out of there also.¡± Those words burned the inside of her mouth like strong liquor, but she powered through. Knowing the soldier might not let her forget that admission her ego pushed against honesty, every word getting further stuck in her throat. But lying to keep up her superiority over him would not do either of them good in this situation.


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    ¡°Is he? I¡¯ve seen countless hunters face off against the slavers and their thugs, yet hardly any of them could pull off something like your companion.¡± Tharzin said.


    ¡°What of the adventurer? The one you mentioned yesterday, Nattarri¡¯s father? Surely, he could pull off something like that.¡± the witch continued.


    ¡°Silence!¡± Tharzin snapped, her question seemingly struck a nerve both in him and the other beastfolk.


    ¡°Do not sully his name by comparing him to a mere mercenary.¡±


    Chief¡¯s eyes fell on Solon again, the man looking back at him as the former looked him over.


    ¡°The boy is safe. He trusted us enough to bring us back here.¡± Sheela insisted.


    ¡°Children will swallow the lies of adults as if it were honey. They¡¯ll do and say anything if properly convinced. For all I know, you could have used him to lead the slavers back to our tribe.¡± The beastman scoffed, eyes never leaving the mercenary. The two were locked into a staring contest of sorts. At last, the man spoke.


    ¡°You plan to kill us then? Why even lead us to the tribe in the first place?¡± he asked.


    ¡°You had us surrounded, could have taken the boy from us then and there.¡±


    All eyes were now on the chief. The question stood before him like a wall, sturdy and deeply dug in, pushing the beastman into a corner.


    ¡°If your suspicions are correct, you¡¯ve fucked over the entire tribe already. So, what¡¯s the point of backtracking now?¡±


    The man was right. Tharzin knew they posed no threat since the moment they shook hands. But their story didn¡¯t hold. What they told Sylvana and the others was not possible. The soldier himself looked impossible. Solon however gave the man no time to contemplate, hammering in one point after another.


    ¡°If we were here to have you in chains, we would not be having breakfast with you now. We¡¯d use the night as cover to attack, to call for that backup you are so concerned with.¡±


    What he said was true, at least from his perspective. Solon, thanks to his eye could see in the dark without breaking a sweat. But he forgot to account that the beastfolk probably could too.


    The comment went past the chief, striking a nerve with the other hunters. A human, who can¡¯t walk through the woods without a torch or moonlight to show the way, just calmly stated they¡¯d attack them during the night if they wanted to be effective.


    ¡°Insolent thug! You must be stupider than you look to say something like that so confidently.


    I should have speared you the moment I saw you.¡± yelled one of the hunters.


    Solon looked past Tharzin, recognizing the beastman as one of the hunters who saved them from the bandits.


    ¡°Misha, settle down.¡± the chief turned around, motioning for the young hunter to lower his tone.


    ¡°Like hell. I will not let this hung-over fuck insult us so blatantly. And what¡¯s with that deadpan stare? Do you seriously believe what you just said to be true?¡± Misha laughed mockingly, the other hunters from his group quickly joining in on it.


    ¡°Grandfather, I simply can¡¯t allow him to get away with insulting our entire kin.¡± he pointed his finger at Solon.


    ¡°I challenge you to a fight. Bare hands, till one of us can¡¯t stand up anymore. If you win, me and the boys will escort you to the northern edge of the woods ourselves. Fuck, if you can kick my ass, you piece of shit, we¡¯ll fucking carry you on our backs to the nearest human village.¡±


    Sheela snickered, excited to see how Solon would react to the challenge. Win or lose, it would be entertainment for her, though the former would be better for both of them.


    A thought crossed her mind for a fraction of a second.


    Did she believe he actually had a winning chance against a beastman? Preposterous! She¡¯d never think that highly of him.


    For Tharzin, even though he did not appreciate how quickly his grandson jumped to violence as a solution, this presented a perfect opportunity to resolve the issue while saving face. He couldn¡¯t admit that he gave into the suspicion of the other tribesfolk so lightly, for it would have made him easily swayed or that he invited two strangers into their camp just based on a first impression, no matter how strong that impression might have been. If he was deciding for himself, he wouldn¡¯t doubt the man¡¯s ability for even a moment, but he has an entire tribe to think of, and they would not accept warrior¡¯s intuition as a just reason.


    ¡°What you said was indeed a grave insult to our people, human,¡± he said, standing up.


    ¡°If you could break into a fighting ring unarmed and escape intact, then surely you can best this tribe¡¯s best hunter in a brawl.¡±


    Sheela clapped her hands quietly, feeling giddy at the unfolding events.


    With incredible haste, the beastfolk cleared the grounds where they were having breakfast just a moment prior, removing the campfires and arranging logs into a circle to resemble a ring.


    Solon stood up, rubbing his throbbing head, the hangover deciding to lend a hand to the opponent, though he only had himself to blame for that.


    Misha stood opposite from him, tossing away his weapons belt and spear, even his shirt made from cloth until he was only in his pants. With a groan of exasperation, Solon did the same.


    This was Sheela¡¯s first time seeing the man shirtless. She could see where the metal arm connected to his body, metal fusing with flesh almost seamlessly. He had a tattoo on his good arm, slightly above his bicep, an image of jaws with sharp teeth biting a bullet, inside an upside-down triangle with bird wings on the side, letters and numbers under it that she could not read. His body was toned, with several scars across both the front and back of his torso, each different in size. Without a doubt, the man had seen plenty of battles. Contrary to his eyes, which seemed to hide tiredness brought on by many years of active duty, the rest of Solon appeared pretty youthful.


    ¡°The rules are simple. No weapons. No killing. The first one to get beaten into submission loses.¡± Tharzin said loudly to the two fighters, before looking at his grandson.


    ¡°That means no claws or fangs, Misha. Anger aside, fight fair.¡±


    Misha nodded, slowly retracting his claws and curling his hands into fists. The men approached one another in the centre of the circle, waiting for the chief to give the word.


    ¡°May the best man win. Fight!¡± shouted Tharzin.


    The fight erupted immediately, with Misha on the offensive. He was the same height and size as Solon, but moved faster and struck harder, aiming for the weak spots of his opponent.


    Solon did not leave any weak spots open for Misha to target, however, blocking or evading almost every blow the young beastman threw his way. He suspected the hunter to fight like a beast and he was not disappointed. Misha swung wide and wildly, thinking only about breaking the man¡¯s guard with brute force and then beating him into submission. His moves were easy to intercept and even easier to read, though continuously blocking such a devastating flurry of attacks was no easy feat. Solon could feel each punch throughout his entire body.


    His strategy of waiting for Misha to start losing steam came true sooner than expected. Most humans would wail on him much longer, but then again, the beastman was covered in fur, so cooling off while simultaneously exerting himself was out of the question. The second Misha¡¯s pace faltered; Solon sprung to action. His left arm whirred softly as he cocked it back, ready to knock the hunter out cold.


    ¡°Obviously, he would use that arm. He couldn¡¯t hope to win without a crutch.¡± was the last thing that went through the beastman¡¯s head as he went to block the attack and grab the arm.


    But just as quickly as it moved towards him, the arm suddenly got pulled back. Solon had changed his stance.


    ¡°Shit. A feint?!¡±


    With all his focus on the metal arm, the hunter left his other side barely guarded. Solon came in with a right hook, putting half his body weight into the punch. It connected beautifully, forcing Misha to look to his right against his will, feeling his brain rattle inside his skull.


    He stumbled, trying to grab onto objects that weren¡¯t there as his knees buckled.


    Solon took a few steps back, letting the beastman recuperate himself. Misha looked up at his opponent, waiting for his vision to refocus, only to be met with a cheeky grin from the hungover human, metal arm behind his back, right one stretched out towards him and clenched into a fist.


    A taunt. A mocking gesture. The man was telling him and the entire tribe of onlookers a simple thing.


    ¡°I do not need my metal arm to kick your ass.¡±


    Rules be damned, he can¡¯t allow a single human to insult him and then also embarrass him in front of the entire tribe. If anything, he will make him use that metal arm to fight for his life.


    Claws returned as Misha took on a more bestial stance, bending forward until he was almost on all fours.


    ¡°Misha! Do not disgrace yourself.¡± Tharzin shouted, warning his grandson about the rules in place, but his words were drowned out by the young hunter¡¯s anger and the cheers of his friends in the crowd.


    He lunged at the man, claws out, teeth bared, ready to tackle him to the dirt. Solon shifted his stance again, sliding in between the arms of his attacker, before raising his knee and connecting it with the hunter¡¯s chin, snapping his jaws shut. Misha quickly backed off, creating some distance between the two, checking to see if he didn¡¯t bite his own tongue off.


    He breathed a quick sigh of relief before his eyes fell back on the human. The mercenary decided to remind the hunter that the fight was still going on by rushing towards him and nailing him in the ribs with his metal arm.


    Misha did not falter, immediately swinging back, claws catching Solon across the chest. The man moved just in time for the cut not to be deep, but blood was still drawn. The hunter was back on the offensive, dashing around, trying to get the soldier with his sharp claws. He did not try to bite him again, however. Solon was dodging much more now, not wanting to block the razor-sharp claws. He already had enough scars and was not interested in acquiring new ones. The soldier felt himself getting tired, keeping up with the beastman¡¯s incredibly fast moves much harder than just blocking them. Luckily, even when furious, Misha¡¯s fighting style did not change. In fact, it seemed even worse, as he aimed to deal damage with his claws, making his swings wider and easier to predict despite their speed. Catching Misha mid-inhale, Solon moved in, closing the distance between the two. His stance was a close one, making no unnecessary movements or wild swings. Misha tried to get away, regain favourable distance, but Solon stuck to him like a tick. He was forced to block the mercenary¡¯s blows as best as he could, only exhausting himself further.


    In a final, desperate attempt to save his pride and victory, Misha lunged at the man again, trying to tackle him to the floor. Solon merely grabbed the hunter mid-jump, using his own weight against him to toss him onto the ground. The young beastman found himself flat on his back, looking up at the branches above, confused as to what just happened.


    Before he could process the confusion and get up, he felt the human¡¯s knee press against his chest, while the other pinned his left arm to the ground.


    ¡°Wait a min-¡° he tried to call in a time-out, but the hungover mercenary had enough of playing in the dirt.


    Punch after punch, he hammered away at the hunter¡¯s face, using only his good arm to do it, while the mechanical one would occasionally shrug off any of Misha¡¯s attempts to dismount him. Sheela watched as her companion meticulously beat the arrogance out of the young hunter until the beastman stopped wiggling on the ground.


    The second Misha stopped squirming and trying to get Solon off of himself, the man stopped his rhythmical beating. He stood up and walked over to the edge of the ring, where Sheela sat.


    ¡°He¡¯s breathing, don¡¯t worry,¡± Solon said to Tharzin and the rest of the awestruck tribesfolks, before leaning towards the brushes and puking again.


    The crowd was dead silent, staring in disbelief at Misha on the floor and the puking mercenary by the shrubs. Sheela decided to advocate for the soldier as he was too busy to talk.


    ¡°I believe this is proof enough to confirm our story Tharzin.¡± said the witch with a smile on her face.


    ¡°Unless someone else would like to give this a try.¡± Sheela pointed at the hunter lying on the ground with a broken nose, breathing slowly.


    ¡°Anyone? Solon can go all day.¡± She chirped, receiving a middle finger from the man as he dry heaved.


    Tharzin sighed. His hunch did not betray him.


    ¡°I have nothing more to add. You¡¯ve proven your story and abilities.¡±


    He looked over the crowd, looking for any signs of disagreement, but all he was met with were nods.


    ¡°It¡¯s decided then. You two can stay and rest, shake off that hangover. Misha will come find you once he¡¯s also rested.¡± spoke the chief.


    The air of unease seemed to be gone as the tribesfolk were already spreading out, dismantling the makeshift ring and going back to their daily tasks. Women chatted amongst themselves while boys began to play, trying to mimic Solon¡¯s moves and use them on one another.

 Chapter 15 - Luxurious Incarceration

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    The capital of Marbella kingdom was unlike anything the three other-worlders expected. Compared to the Perriman dutchy, the city of Minrez looked a hundred years more advanced.


    Streets made of polished cobblestone, each with a well-maintained drainage system designed to perfectly blend with the city''s aesthetic. Broad main streets connected important parts of the city, like the town square, where various guilds and taverns were located, the always bustling market, the park and finally the royal palace itself, which stood higher than any other building in Minrez, overlooking the capital from its very heart. As for the rest of the buildings, some rose as high as three stories and were mostly located in the city¡¯s financial district. During the day the city would shine with a beautiful mixture of white, gold and blue, while at night ornamental street lights would leave no corner for the shadows to hide in.


    The absence of torches is what fascinated the men most, even the garrison and the watchtowers atop the city¡¯s walls were illuminated by these lamps. It reminded Jeremy of his senior year in high school, when he was abroad in Prague for a week.


    A truly breath-taking sight to behold each day and the soldiers had the special privilege of observing it through the barred windows of their cells, situated atop the highest floor of the prison tower they were being held in, right next to the palace itself.


    They had spent the past several days annoying the guards with almost never-ending questions about the town, the royal family, the queen and the townsfolk, but as neither they nor the guards wore any translator stones, their questions remained unanswered.


    What surprised them most was the treatment they received by the guards. Be it morning watch, noon or night watch, the guards were instructed to keep their distance and treat the three men with as much respect and decency one could offer to a prisoner. They were being well fed three times a day, and splashed with buckets of lukewarm water every other day as a form of bathing. As thanks, Clyde stopped terrorizing the guards every night, no longer bending the bars on his cell door and grabbing the first guard that got too close to see what was going on.


    It was on the fifth day of their vacation in the Minrez prison tower that the other-worlders met Savik, a newbie guard assigned to night watch after the previous guard tragically perished while helping the royal artificer learn how the weapons they commandeered from the three men worked.


    Savik, no older than twenty by the looks of it, was as curious and eager to talk to the men as they were to talk to him. One night he smuggled a translator stone in his uniform, waiting for other guards to leave before attaching it to his chestplate. He nervously tapped it a few times, watching it twinkle with each tap, before approaching Jeremy¡¯s holding cell.


    ¡°Hello? Can you hear me? Ahem, I mean, you can hear me, obviously, but can you understand me?¡± the young guard asked, tripping over his words.


    The soldiers sat up in their bunks, turning to look at him.


    ¡°You¡¯ve got a translator stone, neat.¡± Said Clyde, being the first to get up.


    ¡°You know what this is?¡± Savik asked, looking at the stone that was placed on the left side of his chest, being no bigger than a button.


    ¡°Yeah, we¡¯ve encountered them before. Hell, we¡¯ve worn them ourselves, how do you think we talked to Perriman?¡± the massive Warhound replied, approaching the door of his cell.


    The guard craned his neck looking upwards, trying to maintain eye contact with the soldier. The two stood mere feet from each other, the only barrier between them being easily bendable cell bars.


    ¡°So, whaddaya want?¡± continued Clyde.


    ¡°Oh, nothing. Just to talk, that¡¯s all.¡± Savik replied.


    ¡°This some form of benevolent interrogation?¡± chuckled Marcel from his bunk.


    ¡°Interrogation? No, no, I swear. I am in no way authorized to interrogate anyone. I¡¯d probably get demoted back to cleaning the stables if anyone caught me even talking to you.¡±


    Clyde looked down on the guard and raised an eyebrow, gauging if the man was lying or not.


    ¡°My father works with the royal artificer, he¡¯s so fascinated by your tools and weapons and, well, you overall. No shame in admitting his curiosity has infected me as well.¡± The guard continued speaking, never looking away as if he worried that somehow might get interpreted as a sign of dishonesty.


    ¡°Ah, no wonder you¡¯ve been given such a cushy position at the very top of this tower, looking over this amazing city each night. Nepotism really is a multiversal standard.¡± Laughed the mountain of a man while going back to sit on his bed.


    Before Savik could defend himself and argue that his current position had nothing to do with his father, Clyde asked him a question.


    ¡°The lamps, how do they work? You guys discovered electricity?¡±


    The guard smiled, grabbing a chair and sitting down in front of the cell, delighted to answer the question.


    ¡°They are powered by low purity mana crystals. You take the crystal, inscribe a quick illumination spell on it and boom, light.¡±


    ¡°Really? Just like that?¡± Jeremy joined in on the conversation.


    ¡°Mhm.¡±


    ¡°Why low purity crystals though?¡±


    ¡°Well, it would be a waste to use anything higher and low purity is easiest to come by, hence also the cheapest.¡±


    Clyde rubbed his chin, thinking for a moment, fascinated by the explanation.


    ¡°So, if someone used a higher purity crystal, they¡¯d get more light or the same amount?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s entirely dependent on the spell inscribed on the crystal. I mean, higher purity crystals have more mana, but that would be a waste of crystal.¡± Savik replied.


    ¡°Can¡¯t they be repurposed? You know, scrape off the inscription and slap on a new one?¡± the large soldier continued.


    The young guard just shook his head.


    ¡°Once the spell is infused with the crystal¡¯s mana, it can¡¯t be removed.¡±


    ¡°What is the difference in purity?¡± Marcel asked.


    Out of the three men, Savik enjoyed Marcel¡¯s voice the most. Though the man did not speak often, even to his comrades, his accent made his words a delight to hear.


    ¡°Excess mana in the world is what causes the mana crystals to form. They are pure mana, solid mana, I guess you could call them that. The more potent the mana, the higher the purity of the crystals. There can be impurities in the crystals, however, the same way there can be impurities in gold or silver.¡± The guard explained.


    The three men exchanged looks and nodded, before Jeremy leaned a bit closer.


    Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    ¡°So, if they¡¯re made by mana, why not just hire mages or something to release mana until a crystal forms?¡±


    Savik laughed, fascinated by the question.


    ¡°Oh, that wouldn¡¯t be possible. Mana crystals contain mana without any resonance, that¡¯s not something any living creature can exude, no matter how powerful. Plus, you can take every mage in the royal palace, combine them and their mana still wouldn¡¯t even reach the amount found in a pure mana crystal.¡±


    ¡°Resonance? What¡¯s that?¡± Clyde gave the guard a puzzled look.


    The guard rubbed his helmet, not sure how to explain what it was himself.


    ¡°A sort of, uhm, a sort of effect, influence, you know? It¡¯s not tainted, but it¡¯s just not the same as raw mana. Ugh, fuck, I don¡¯t really know how to explain it myself to be honest.¡±


    All four of them sat in silence for a moment, brainstorming what the best possible word would be for the thing Savik was trying to explain. Finally, Jeremy snapped his fingers.


    ¡°Signature!¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Clyde looked at him and shook his head, still not understanding.


    ¡°A signature. Living things have mana tailored to them, like a signature that it¡¯s living thing mana.¡± Jeremy explained, moving his hands around the air as if drawing up an image for the other three men.


    ¡°Yes. Exactly. Raw mana is not tailored to anything, so it doesn¡¯t have a signature.¡± Savik said with a grin.


    ¡°I see, I see.¡± Clyde nodded.


    ¡°You have no clue what he means.¡± Marcel sneered.


    ¡°No, no, I get it. Living things plus mana means signature. No living things means no signature. See? I get it, now fuck off Hannibal.¡± Clyde frowned and waved the man off.


    ¡°So, by imbuing mana crystals with your mana, you¡¯re basically giving the crystal¡¯s mana a signature and a function. That¡¯s why you can¡¯t undo that process, right?¡± Jeremy asked Savik.


    ¡°Correct. You guys catch on fast.¡± The guard replied.


    ¡°Ehh, it¡¯s not an impossible to imagine concept.¡± The soldier waved him off, not letting the compliment stroke his ego too much.


    ¡°What do you use on your world to create light?¡±


    ¡°FIIREEE!¡± Clyde roared, raising both his arms into the air, startling the young guard.


    ¡°Settle down, Flintstone, you¡¯re gonna scare the guy to death.¡± Jeremy kicked his friend nonchalantly, before turning to Savik.


    ¡°We use electricity. What you did with raw mana, we did with lightning basically.¡± He continued.


    ¡°Fascinating.¡± The guard whispered, before suddenly jumping from his chair as if it were lit on fire under him.


    ¡°Hold on! I just remembered something. You guys are immune to magic, right?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, why?¡± Jeremy asked, not feeling too enthusiastic about the look on Savik¡¯s face.


    ¡°My father¡¯s been going on and on since you guys got here, saying how it¡¯s impossible that someone could be immune to magic. Can I PLEASE see for myself if you really are immune?¡±


    ¡°Uh, won¡¯t you get in trouble for that?¡± The middle soldier tried dissuading him from the idea.


    ¡°You¡¯re a mage?¡± Clyde asked, getting up from his bed.


    ¡°No, no. I¡¯m not a mage at all. I can only use a few basic spells. My mana is too low for me to be considered a mage.¡±


    ¡°Well, he ain¡¯t a mage, so I guess we have nothing to worry about.¡± The largest of the three soldiers continued, walking over to the bars.


    ¡°Clyde, it¡¯s after midnight. You heard what the psycho bitch with the sword said a few days ago. If you keep fucking with the night guards, they will transfer us to the basement.¡± Jeremy sighed, trying his best to stop whatever was about to be set into motion.


    ¡°Okay, okay, shut up.¡± Clyde waved him off, before focusing his attention back on the guard.


    ¡°Can you blow this cell up?¡±


    ¡°What? No, no, I¡¯m nowhere near that strong.¡± Savik shook both his hands.


    ¡°So, what CAN you do?¡±


    ¡°I can cast Stun Light. Basic spell used by guards to subdue rowdy drunkards and thieves or inmates. Stuns them so they can¡¯t run away.¡± Explained the young guard, hoping the description wouldn¡¯t discourage the tall Warhound from agreeing to his little test.


    ¡°Alright, so. I¡¯m going to walk up to the bars and you have to stun me so I don¡¯t bend them open and do unspeakable things to you.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    Without another word Clyde lunged at the bars and began to pull on them like an ape trying to escape its enclosure, while making the most hideous face his muscles could contort into.


    Savik jumped, as the cell rattled and shook violently. Marcel rolled over in bed laughing and Jeremy just rubbed his forehead. The guard just looked at the exasperated soldier, as if wordlessly asking him what to do.


    ¡°Hey, you wanted this. No backing away now. Better hurry, the bars don¡¯t look like they¡¯re gonna hold.¡± Jeremy said, unable to keep a straight face as Clyde was going primal on the bars.


    ¡°I don¡¯t wanna hurt him.¡± Replied Savik, glancing between Jeremy and Clyde.


    ¡°He¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, do it. Straight to my chest. DO IT! C¡¯MON, YOU A MAN?!¡± The behemoth of a man roared, the bars creaking and bending.


    The atmosphere of stupid decisions was quickly reaching critical mass, the tidal wave of peer pressure sweeping Savik off his feet. He grinned and extended his hand, holding a small trinket in the other, before mumbling a quick chant. A flash of light illuminated the cells like the first rays of sun at dawn, followed by a loud ¡°bang¡±, that echoed through the empty tower floor. The guard''s eyes widened when he saw that his spell, which was supposed to have the prisoner flat on his back and disoriented, did absolutely nothing to the man. He didn¡¯t even move an inch from here, he stood. A few quick blinks to get the dancing light from his eyes was the only reaction that Clyde gave to Savik for his efforts.


    ¡°Holy shit. You guys really are immune!¡± The guard was grinning ear to ear, in absolute disbelief.


    Jeremy was more fascinated by the fact that all he needed to confirm his theory was a flimsy spell that delivered half the potency of a DIY flashbang.


    ¡°WHAT. THE FUCK. IS GOING ON IN THERE?!¡± shouted a familiar voice from the other side of the prison floor door. Savik went from excited to scared shitless, as the consequences of his actions were now barrelling up the tower stairs in the form of Elisia, second of the three knights that comprised the Queen¡¯s guard.


    Whereas the other-worlders have been living it up in their prison tower, admiring the view, free meals and an occasional lukewarm bucket shower, Elisia was stuck having to watch over the tower in case they try to escape, as well as make sure the guards are on their best behaviour when dealing with these three prisoners. Being a royal knight and ending up assigned such a duty was as close to a punch in the gut someone of her standing could get. Having her make sure the other-worlders were treated almost like guests in a tavern, rather than enemies of the kingdom that plotted with the treacherous duke to overthrow the Queen only boiled Elisia¡¯s blood further. If it weren¡¯t for the sentence that awaited them, she was sure she¡¯d kill them herself, orders be damned.


    ¡°Oh fuck, oh fuck, I¡¯m a dead man.¡± The young guard panicked, looking around frantically, not knowing if he should run, hide or face his end like a man.


    As the knight kicked the door open with such a force that obliterated the door, sending splinters flying across the entire room, Clyde grabbed Savik by his leather chest plate and yanked, slamming the guard against the bars with enough force to leave him temporarily dazed.


    Savik fell on his ass, rubbing his head as it has just kissed the bars of the cell. Hearing Elisia storm over, he froze, uttering a silent prayer in hope of meeting his maker painlessly.


    ¡°Picking on the guards again, ay?¡± Elisia stormed past Savik and stood right in front of Clyde. Her smile hid an ocean of bubbling rage, her hand clenched around the handle of her sheathed sword with such force that veins were bulging out on her fist. It took her an immense amount of self-control not to slice through the bars and the lumbering oaf of a man behind them.


    ¡°Well.¡± She hissed.


    ¡°You remember what I told you last time. The Queen has instructed me to treat you as kindly as I can, hence why you still live, but I will not allow you to enjoy your stay here. No more nice view and passable food. Tomorrow at first light, you boys will be going to the basement holding cells where you¡¯ll be eating RATS if you¡¯re lucky!¡±


    Clyde just gave her the most blank expression to ever grace the face of any man, which only seemed to irk her more. Jeremy, watching from the side, expected his comrade to start drooling any second now.


    Feeling her composure slip away at a rapid pace, Elisia turned on her heels and headed for the door, or where the door once was at least. Savik looked at Clyde and uttered a silent ¡°thank you¡±, realizing that the other-worlder¡¯s quick thinking saved the guard from rightfully taking the blame for the whole commotion they caused.

 Chapter 16 - Benevolence or Fear?

    ¡°Way to go, jackass. You just had to screw around with the guard.¡± Jeremy growled while trying to find a dry spot on the makeshift cell bed to sit on.


    ¡°We¡¯re already in prison. Can¡¯t get double prison. And I did hype him up.¡± Clyde replied, sitting down on the floor with a sigh.


    ¡°No double prison, but we got basement. Ugh, this place smells like piss.¡± Jeremy frowned, looking in disgust at the cell they were in.


    No light as there were no windows, even fully adjusted their eyes could not see more than a few feet in front of them. Rats scurried and squeaked from the darkness all around them.


    Clyde didn¡¯t feel bad for taking the blame for their shenanigans on the tower¡¯s top floor, but he did hope they would be brought before the queen soon.


    Their bickering was interrupted by a low groan from the cell next to theirs. All three soldiers turned their heads towards the noise, trying to see the person groaning through the dark.


    The man spoke slowly, his words foreign to Jeremy and Marcel.


    ¡°Gods must watch over the three of you. I was certain wyverns had torn you apart.¡± The prisoner said, slowly approaching the bars which divided their cells.


    Clyde recognized the man by his voice before he even got close enough for them to see him. ¡°Holy shit! Perriman, is that you dude?¡±


    ¡°Your luck runs out here. If I wasn¡¯t headed for the executioner¡¯s axe, I¡¯d almost lament your fate.¡± Perriman said, slowly coming into view.


    The otherworlders recoiled at the sight of him. Albrecht¡¯s face was swollen and bruised to the point he was almost unrecognizable. His hands gripped the bars to provide support for his trembling legs. Jeremy leaned closer, gritting his teeth in disgust when he saw the duke¡¯s fingers missing their fingernails.


    ¡°What¡¯d they do to you, P?¡± Clyde asked.


    ¡°What I deserved. The only reason I¡¯m still breathing is because the Queen wanted every drop of information I have on you and in regards to our deal.¡± Perriman said.


    ¡°Damn.¡± The Warhound mumbled.


    ¡°Hold up. How can you understand him?¡± Jeremy moved away from the bars and turned to Clyde.


    Even in the dark, he could see the shit-eating grin stretch across the large man¡¯s face. Clyde fished around his cargo pants pocket and pulled out a small, button-sized stone.


    ¡°I nicked this off that guard last night when I yanked him against the bars. He was too busy shitting himself when perra amazona loca burst through the door like a bull.¡±


    ¡°Give him the crystal, so we can all understand him,¡± Marcel added.


    ¡°No. He might not wanna give it back. I¡¯ll just relay what he says.¡± Clyde protested.


    ¡°Give him the crystal. He¡¯s missing his fingernails; I think stealing a translator stone is the furthest thing from his mind right now.¡± Jeremy took the translator stone from Clyde and handed it through the bars to Perriman.


    Albrecht took it and sighed, before slowly sitting down on the floor.


    ¡°Where¡¯d you get the stone?¡±


    ¡°Who gives a shit?¡± Clyde retorted, shrugging.


    ¡°They tortured you for information, Perriman?¡± The second soldier asked as all three of them sat down. The answer was obvious already, but Jeremy was at a loss for words at that moment.


    ¡°No, they just did it because I was a traitor to the crown. The Queen was very merciful to a wretch like me, saying she would not have my family hunted down so long as I tell the interrogator everything I know.¡±


    They were silent for a while, just listening to Perriman¡¯s strained breathing. In his mind, Jeremy compared the treatment they received with the treatment Albrecht received, trying to figure out why the two were so different when both he and them were guilty of the same crime.


    ¡°When are you getting axed?¡± Clyde broke the silence.


    ¡°In a couple of days. Not certain yet, the Queen wishes to interrogate you herself first. We will all face our sentences on the same day, that is all I know.¡± Albrecht spoke back softly.


    ¡°Hey, maybe they arrange our head baskets right next to one another.¡± The Warhound joked, making light of the situation.


    ¡°What? Like in order from biggest to smallest? Your dome would be the first to go.¡± Marcel joined in.


    ¡°Splendid. Means I wouldn¡¯t have to suffer staring at your coconut cranium for too long.¡± Clyde fired back as they both cackled.


    ¡°You will not face the axe,¡± Perriman said with a sigh, this revelation catching the otherworlders off guard.


    ¡°Really? How come?¡± Jeremy asked.


    ¡°They will probably burn us alive or something, y¡¯know? Make a spectacle for the masses.¡± The Warhound added.


    ¡°No. I do not know what fate the Queen has planned for you three, but it seems to be something brilliant, according to the interrogator at least.¡± Albrecht explained.


    ¡°How do you know this?¡±


    ¡°The man in charge of getting information from me has a very boastful personality and a very loose tongue. I doubt he knows what Her Majesty Kyara has planned, otherwise, he would probably mention it many times, same way he has mentioned my date and method of execution. Both were supposed to be kept from me.¡± The duke continued.


    ¡°Interesting,¡± Jeremy mumbled.


    ¡°Yeah, I am kinda curious as to what fiendish method the redhead queen might employ in order to send us to Jesus.¡± Clyde rubbed his chin and stared off into the darkness, pretending to ponder that question.


    Their conversation was cut short by the sound of the creaking door and light pouring into the dark room. Rats squealed and quickly scurried, chasing shadows back into their holes.


    ¡°Keep that stone hidden, P,¡± Clyde said as they all backed away from each other.


    Elisia walked in, followed by several other guards who immediately headed for the cell the soldiers were in, opening the door. The shackles on their wrists and ankles were doubled before the guards pulled them out of the cell. Marcel and Jeremy complied, but Clyde dug his feet into the filthy floor, not budging until two more guards walked into the cell, making the total number of men struggling the push or pull the Warhound from his spot four.


    Clyde waited, letting them push and tug with no progress until Elisia¡¯s smile disappeared from her face and was instead replaced by a look of rapidly increasing annoyance that he had become so fond of.


    ***


    Marbella palace was home to the royal family started by Iglaus Xavier Marbella, who built it almost seven centuries ago. Today it was home to Queen Kyara Ikaris Marbella, the youngest of King Tunlis¡¯ and Queen Amara¡¯s three children. As they were being led through the empty halls on their way to the throne room, the soldiers could not soak in the beauty of the palace fast enough. Much like the biggest kingdom of humans on the eastern side of the continent, the palace only grew in size and stability since it was first erected.


    Warm autumn sun poured through the many windows along the hallways. Though the hallways were empty, the otherworlders could feel the curious eyes of the palace¡¯s many servants on them, watching them, peeking through the keyholes and barely opened doors.


    After a walk that felt like it lasted much shorter than they would¡¯ve liked, the heavy ornamental doors opened, presenting the three invaders with a breathtaking sight of the throne room. Clyde couldn¡¯t contain himself, letting out a whistle that echoed through the huge space, his head turning rapidly as he couldn¡¯t decide what he wanted to look at the longest. The room was massive, he thought, one could probably park an entire tank inside and still not feel cramped in the slightest.


    ¡°Eyes on me.¡± The Queen¡¯s voice boomed through the throne room, her presence demanding their undivided attention.


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    She didn¡¯t wear the armour in which they first saw her, instead clad in robes of white, red and golden. Her hair, now unobstructed by a helmet, flowed down to the middle of her back. The way she was dressed reminded Jeremy of Ancient Roman Imperators. Kyara Marbella sat in one of the two thrones on the other side of the throne room, looking directly at them. Even at such a distance, they could see her eyes sparking with an otherworldly orange hue.


    ¡°On your knees,¡± Kyara said, releasing an oppressive aura through the room, forcing everyone except Elisia and another red-haired man standing next to the queen to kneel.


    The soldiers didn¡¯t know what it was they were feeling, but they sure felt it. Without delay they did as they were ordered, kneeling on the carpeted floor next to each other, with Clyde in the middle.


    ¡°You know why you are here, so I will skip the formalities. Everyone. Get out.¡± The Queen said, much to the surprise of her advisors and several guards.


    ¡°Your Highness, surely you do not suggest we leave you alone with these animals?¡± An elderly man argued, motioning to the kneeling invaders with his left hand.


    ¡°You doubt my ability to deal with them should they become rowdy, Sir Roland?¡± Kyara shot him a disapproving look.


    ¡°N-no, Your Majesty. I, uh, I understand.¡± Her advisor mumbled and quickly headed for the door, along with the rest of the guards and servants.


    As the doors closed, all those who remained in the throne room were the three prisoners, the Queen and her two guards.


    ¡°They are gone, Your Highness. No one is listening.¡± Elisia said after making sure no one was trying to be smart and stand just on the other side of the throne room door.


    Without missing a beat the Queen fired off her first question.


    ¡°What were the weapons you were trying to bring through the portal back at Perriman¡¯s dutchy?¡±


    ¡°Anti-air defences. Three of them.¡± Jeremy replied immediately.


    ¡°Anti-air? What for?¡±


    ¡°To deal with the same creatures that fled when you released your overwhelming aura.¡±


    ¡°Wyverns. Why? Are the flying lizards giving you too much trouble? They don¡¯t usually bother anything that they don¡¯t have to share the sky with.¡±


    The soldier said nothing, still not looking away from the Queen.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been gathering information on your people ever since we brought you here. You¡¯ve encountered wyverns before, right? When you first launched your campaign on this side of the gates, they gave you quite a bit of trouble.¡± Kyara said with a sly smirk.


    She paced left and right, manicured finger tapping her chin as pretended to try and remember more information.


    ¡°You have aerial weapons too, don¡¯t you? Things that fly. Things that the wyverns don¡¯t like and attack on sight.¡±


    Still, the soldiers gave no response. Their silence did nothing to affect the Queen¡¯s mood, however.


    ¡°Come on. I know you three to be a chatty bunch, so why the tied lips now? Tell me, I want to know of the weapons you possess. I want to know if Perriman was insane for thinking he could overthrow me with your help or if the lie you sold him had some truth to it?¡± She pressed.


    Jeremy smiled.


    ¡°Looking at it now, there is not a chance in hell we could overthrow this kingdom with just 3 Spiders. Hell, you¡¯d probably be able to deal with those yourself.¡±


    ¡°I see. So, your sights were not aimed at us, yet.¡± The Queen¡¯s words sounded a mix of assumption and accusation.


    Another short pause, silence filling the throne room as Kyara planned out her next round of questions. The invaders didn¡¯t seem interested in her kingdom, but she had to know what power they truly possessed, should that ever change.


    ¡°The Iron Fortress, it¡¯s an exceptionally powerful weapon. How does it work?¡± She asked, her tone now softer, more inquisitive.


    ¡°It shoots a metal slug at high velocities,¡± Jeremy replied matter-of-factly.


    ¡°And I assume that¡¯s your strongest weapon?¡±


    ¡°On this side of the gate, yes.¡±


    The Queen was asking pretty much the same questions that Duke Perriman asked when they were making their deal. Jeremy knew there wasn¡¯t any point in telling her anything different from what they told him, since Albrech had already told the queen everything. The soldier had a theory he wanted to confirm ever since they were imprisoned, and so far, every question Kyara asked only solidified his suspicions.


    ¡°Tell me more about it.¡± The Dragon Soul Queen continued, oblivious to the thoughts swimming around Jeremy¡¯s mind.


    His comrades did not seem surprised by how quickly and honestly their friend answered every question. The many years they¡¯ve spent together had them certain of one thing; whatever Jeremy was doing wasn¡¯t without a reason.


    ¡°Well, the Bunker Buster Cannon, as we call it, was modelled after an older weapon called Gustav. Compared to modern Bunker Busters, the ¡®Iron Fortress¡¯ as you call it, is an older, almost obsolete model. We wheeled it over here because of its simplistic design and due to the fact it uses no explosives.¡± The soldier explained.


    ¡°And why no explosives?¡± Kyara locked eyes with Jeremy.


    ¡°What¡¯s cheaper to acquire? A barrel of gunpowder or a hunk of iron?¡± the man grinned.


    The Queen wasn¡¯t sure what gunpowder was, but if it was anything like dwarven black powder, then what he was saying made sense. Thinking how these people still considered saving money while racking up elven casualties for months had her a bit unsettled.


    ¡°And what of other weapons in your arsenal?¡±


    ¡°The Bunker Buster Cannon seems more than sufficient at this moment in time.¡±


    Clyde chuckled, unable to restrain himself.


    ¡°A good BBC can bring any kingdom¡¯s ruler to their knees, ay?¡±


    He laughed, elbowing Marcel a bit too hard, causing the dark-skinned soldier to fall on his side. The other two joined him in laughter as if they had forgotten what situation they were in.


    The joke and the dual meaning of the abbreviation did not go over the Queen¡¯s head.


    She pursed her lips, glaring down at the cackling prisoners. The aura of the Dragon Soul Queen filled the entire room in seconds, this time without any restraint from Kyara. Even the queen¡¯s guard felt their knees buckle under the pressure of her might. Through gritted teeth, the queen spoke to the otherworlders.


    ¡°Do not mistake the way you¡¯ve been treated thus far for benevolence or think me too ignorant to not understand your swinely attempts at humour!¡±


    ¡°My Queen.¡± Kargalan, the first of the Queen¡¯s three guards spoke up from behind her, hoping to calm her down before the windows and chandeliers in the throne room gave out from the force of the mana she was releasing.


    The soldiers cackling slowly simmered down before Jeremy once more locked eyes with the furious ruler. Her aura of domination dissipated instantly, seeing that this time none of the prisoners seemed even the least bit affected. The smug look plastered across his face made Kyara want to strangle him then and there, but she knew better.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, we do not mistake your behaviour for anything other than what it is.¡± The otherworlder said with a grin.


    ¡°Do you? And what is it?¡± the Queen asked, crossing her arms.


    ¡°Fear.¡±


    The word echoed through the throne room, followed by absolute silence.


    ¡°Fear? Me, afraid of you?¡± Kyara scoffed, looking over her shoulder and rolling her eyes before looking back at the man.


    ¡°Spare me the theatrics you use on your servants, sugar. You ain¡¯t no fool, Your Highness. You have a plan for us, otherwise, we¡¯d probably end up like Duke Perriman or even dead.¡±


    ¡°And you think you have figured out my plan?¡±


    ¡°Which execution method takes over a week to arrange? Beheading, burning, gladiator fights, all that can be arranged in a matter of days. Fuck, maybe even less, considering we are enemies of the crown.¡± Spoke the soldier, the smile never leaving his face and his eyes never leaving Kyara¡¯s.


    ¡°Even your lap dog has treated us like fragile doves, much to her visible displeasure.¡±


    Elisia frowned when he mentioned her.


    ¡°You do not intend to kill us at all, do you? Not directly of course. And not here either.¡±


    Kyara Marbella just stood in front of the three soldiers, glaring at Jeremy silently, feeling exposed and pushed on the defensive. She recalled Perriman¡¯s interrogation, the way he described the otherworlders. At the time she dismissed his warnings about their cunning, perhaps had she heeded his advice she could¡¯ve played her hand better. The Queen shook her head, it did not matter now, her sentence would not change. Gathering her thoughts, Kyara spoke again, her voice calm and in control.


    ¡°You are correct. You will not meet your end here. We have informed the Vatur kingdom, our good neighbours of your capture following the wyvern incident. They requested that we deliver you to them for execution, as a way of mending the lost trust following Duke Perriman¡¯s betrayal.¡±


    Jeremy did not lose his grin. The Queen¡¯s admission made him grin even harder, baring his teeth at the woman. The treatment, the lack of torture, the restraints in spite of provocation and finally, transferring their execution to someone else, perfect. The Queen¡¯s plan truly was perfect and just as he thought it would be.


    ¡°An opportunity you welcomed without hesitation, right?¡± He asked.


    ¡°Of course. Perriman¡¯s treachery almost drove a wedge between our two kingdoms. It is my duty as Queen to deal with him, but you are their enemies first and foremost, it would be bad diplomacy to refuse their demand.¡±


    The soldier turned to his comrades and nodded, and they nodded in return as if saying the Queen¡¯s words were making sense.


    ¡°You are well informed. You know we came to Albrecht as emissaries, representatives of our people, per his request of course. And executing emissaries is a declaration of war.¡± Jeremy said slowly, looking up at the queen.


    ¡°You¡¯ve been gathering information about us since we were captured. You know of our first encounters with the wyverns, so I can safely assume you know what the elves did to kick this whole shit off.¡±


    ¡°The emissaries,¡± Kyara whispered.


    ¡°Mhm. We kind of don¡¯t like having our unarmed diplomats imprisoned or killed. I doubt any nation does, if I¡¯m being honest.¡± The man continued, the other two just nodding in support of his argument.


    ¡°Preach your truth, brother,¡± Clyde added.


    ¡°Mhm.¡± Came from Marcel.


    ¡°This interrogation has provided you with nothing you haven¡¯t already gotten from Perriman. We fed Albrecht a load of horseshit, just to get him to agree to give up access to the gate. You know that already too. If there is one thing that was true, in all the information he has given you, it¡¯s that the weapons you see on this world are a mere fragment of what sits ready on the other side of those gates. Waiting.¡± Jeremy continued, his voice straight and cold, leaving no room for misinterpretation.


    ¡°I¡¯d applaud your brilliance if my hands weren¡¯t cuffed together.¡± Clyde laughed.


    ¡°By having the elves kill us, any rage and vengeance they invoke in our people will fall solely on them.¡±


    Jeremy could see the hesitancy on the Queen¡¯s face as she thought about everything that was said. To help paint a more accurate picture, he simply added.


    ¡°The distance from the Iron Fortress to the Home Tree is only half of the weapon''s maximum effective range. Sure, it can¡¯t reach all the way to this city, but there are many towns and villages on the border of Marbella and Vatur that fall well within that range. And iron slugs are cheap.¡±


    ¡°Hah! Do you think I, Kyara Ikaris Marbella, fear you? That I would not rise to the challenge that your people would present?¡± The Queen smirked.


    ¡°Kyara Marbella would not hesitate to accept the challenge our military poses, no doubt about it. But the Queen of this kingdom would.¡± Jeremy replied, driving the final nail into the coffin that was Kyara¡¯s fa?ade.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been dealt a losing hand from the start.¡± The Queen thought, walking back to sit on her throne, waving a hand at Elisia.


    ¡°Get them out of my sight.¡±

 Chapter 17 - The Gods must be laughing

    Kyara sat on her throne with a chalice of wine in her right hand, her left one propping up her head as she leaned to the side. She lost count of how many glasses she had by now, but no matter the amount she could not shake the unease nested in her chest. The Queen wasn¡¯t used to feeling powerless and backed up against the wall, especially not by men who did not have even half the power she possessed. Even her husband, whose strength rivalled lesser dragons, stood in power as her equal.


    She downed her chalice before pointing it towards one of the servants.


    ¡°Another.¡±


    ¡°Sister, not that I am counting, but perhaps you¡¯ve had enough,¡± Kargalan said, eyeing the servant who hesitantly approached the queen with an ewer filled with wine.


    Kyara dismissed his comment with a flimsy wave of her hand, watching the servant fill her chalice almost to the brim. She took a long sip before sighing deeply, looking over to her brother.


    ¡°I am worried Kargalan. More worried than I ever was since donning the crown.¡±


    Her brother, the kingdom¡¯s strongest mage, tried his best to cheer her up, to discredit the words of the invaders that had taken root in Kyara¡¯s mind.


    ¡°Please, sister. Are you really going to let the words of three manaless nobodies bring your mood down so badly?¡±


    ¡°You jest, I am aware. But tell me, honestly, has a single word that man has said sounded like a lie? Like an attempt to barter for their lives?¡± The Queen asked, her eyes glistening under the hair that had fallen across her face.


    Kargalan sighed, only for a moment, not wanting to forfeit his attempts to cheer Kyara up just yet.


    ¡°No. His heart never skipped a beat. He spoke with the same calmness and assuredness that a merchant who knows the quality of his wares would speak with.¡±


    ¡°But sister, you have shown wisdom befitting a Queen. Those otherworlders will be our problem for only a few days longer before they are sent off to the Vatur elves. We¡¯ve nothing more to do with them, they will soon be their headache to deal with. The elves started this war against them, so let them finish it.¡± Kyara¡¯s brother continued quickly.


    The Queen extended her hand, presenting the chalice to the servant. Wine could still be heard swishing inside.


    ¡°Pour.¡±


    Without hesitation the woman with the ewer stepped forward, pouring more of the red liquid into the cup. As the wine once more rose to meet the edge of the glass, the servant pulled the container back, but the look in the queen¡¯s eyes told her to keep going. She poured, even as the wine overflowed from the chalice, dripping over Kyara¡¯s hand and onto the floor, making a mess of both the carpet and part of the queen¡¯s white robes, not stopping until the ewer was empty.


    Kargalan sighed and nodded, understanding quickly what his sister had meant with this demonstration. He moved his head from one side to the other, exhaling as the tension in his neck was relieved.


    ¡°Surely the elves can contain their mess within their borders.¡±


    ¡°I grow more doubtful of that with each passing day,¡± Kyara replied, taking another sip from her cup.


    ¡°I fear they have forgotten their own limitations and mortality, just because death takes centuries to pay them a visit.¡±


    There was a brief pause as the queen downed her wine in a series of gulps, before turning again to the servant.


    ¡°Go fetch more.¡±


    ¡°Sister, please.¡± Kargalan stepped closer, gently taking the chalice from her hand and handing it to the servant.


    ¡°The Queen¡¯s had enough. Leave us.¡±


    With a quick nod, the woman turned around and swiftly walked out of the throne room, closing the heavy door on her way out. Kyara shifted in her seat, leaning now on her brother who stood beside her.


    ¡°I worry.¡± She said softly.


    ¡°Their inability to keep this issue isolated has already begun to show. Albrecht Perriman is proof of that.¡±


    ¡°The duke will have his head in a basket as a consequence of his crimes. His family is banished from the kingdom, their bloodline will never be allowed to reclaim the title Perriman lost. To be honest, I think you¡¯ve gone lightly on them. I would¡¯ve hunted them until the last of his servants is hanging from the gallows.¡± Kargalan said, clenching his fist.


    ¡°How many heads can the axe cut off before its edge goes dull?¡± Kyara asked, looking up at her brother.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°The invaders tempt with power. Without mana they have waged war for almost a year against the Vatur elves, fighting them with drastically smaller numbers to a stalemate. How much longer before others, dukes, petty nobles, and viscounts follow in Perriman¡¯s steps? Am I to send every noble that isn¡¯t devoted to the crown in their entirety to the chopping block? Kill anyone who arouses even an ounce of suspicion? Rule this kingdom like some tyrant?! A woman gone mad with power, the Dragon Soul Queen, living up to her moniker!¡±


    The queen sighed deeply, slumping in her throne and rubbing her face in exhaustion.


    ¡°I do not hold anything against our elven neighbours. But their ¡®wisdom¡¯ seems to only be useful when it comes to picking forest mushrooms and strumming lute strings. Were I a bitter woman, I¡¯d wish ill on them for their stupidity.¡±


    ¡°You do sound quite bitter at the moment, sister.¡± Kargalan chuckled.


    ¡°Oh, to hell with you too,¡± Kyara growled, waving him off.


    ***


    ¡°So, you will be sent to Vatur for your execution,¡± Perriman said, sitting with his back against the cold cell wall.


    ¡°Yeah, seems like that¡¯s the case. I don¡¯t think the queen will change her mind.¡± Jeremy replied.


    ¡°That makes sense. Given how straightforward the king is, I fully expected her to be more or less the same and have you executed.¡± The duke laughed a bit.


    ¡°Your humour seems to have returned ever since the guards stopped beating your ass, Perriman.¡± Clyde chimed in from the other cell that the three soldiers were being held in.


    ¡°It sounds like you did not know the woman very well.¡± Marcel contributed to the conversation a bit more than usual this time around.


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    ¡°Quite true. I am just a duke in charge of a small town all the way on the very border. I was very rarely required to answer any summons. I¡¯d be lying if I said I haven¡¯t spent more time in the presence of the Vatur kingdom¡¯s royal family than I have in the presence of Queen Kyara.¡±


    ¡°Also, before I forget, where¡¯s the king?¡± Clyde asked, adjusting his position on the damp floor.


    ¡°The queen was sitting on a throne, but the other one beside her was empty.¡±


    ¡°The king is, uhh, not the kind of man who can be in one place for too long,¡± Albrecht replied.


    ¡°He was an adventurer before meeting Kyara and that part of him never changed. In fact, some folks would even say it has gotten worse after he consumed the dragon¡¯s heart.¡±


    ¡°Dragon¡¯s heart? What¡¯s that? Like an artefact?¡± The Warhound moved closer to the bars that divided the cell, curious to hear more.


    ¡°No, a literal dragon¡¯s heart. Carved from the beast¡¯s chest.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s metal as fuck.¡±


    ¡°No, it¡¯s meat.¡±


    Clyde looked at the duke for a moment, unsure if the man was messing with him or if he was serious. Using the moment of silence to finally get a few words in, Marcel spoke.


    ¡°All that aside. There is something that¡¯s been on my mind for a while now.¡± He said.


    ¡°Yeah?¡± Clyde turned his attention to the shorter man.


    ¡°How did the Queen arrive at the Dutchy so fast? When they caught us and brought us here, it took them ten days from the border town to this city. And we were moving pretty quickly, no rest stops along the way.¡± Marcel continued, hand on his chin and a pondering look on his face.


    ¡°Even if the scout or spy went to inform the queen of what was going on the second we arrived, her arrival should have still been around six days too late.¡±


    ¡°Good question,¡± Jeremy replied.


    ¡°Perhaps they used another town¡¯s portal gate.¡±


    ¡°Not possible.¡± Albrecht interjected.


    ¡°There are only three gates in Marbella kingdom and they are days on horseback apart. Moreover, the use of portal gates for long-distance travel, for travel of any sort, has been strictly prohibited ever since your kind first arrived through them. It is not a light sentence for anyone who dares break that rule.¡±


    ¡°So you can use it for travel in this world, not just as a gate to other worlds. I¡¯ve been wondering about that.¡± Clyde mumbled to himself.


    In the dark, damp basement, the four men sat in silence, pondering the mystery that Marcel brought up, as there was not much else they could do to pass the time.


    ¡°Long-range teleportation magic?¡± The large Warhound asked, looking up at Perriman.


    The duke only shook his head.


    ¡°A mage capable of a spell of such magnitude would not wait for the Queen to arrive to stop us.¡±


    ¡°So, we are looking for someone who¡¯s inconspicuous enough not to alert the guards or raise their suspicion, not strong enough to stop us but capable of covering a distance of ten days in only four days. Yeah¡­¡± Jeremy sucked on his teeth.


    ¡°The only one who comes to mind is that woman that you sent to escort us into town. The one you threw into the dungeon later on, Perriman.¡± Marcel said, sitting with his back against the wall, fingers intertwined, thumbs pressing against one another in a quick rhythm.


    ¡°Layla?¡± Albrecht asked.


    ¡°EL GATO!¡± Clyde suddenly screamed, jumping to his feet into a squatting stance.


    The other men were startled by his sudden outburst, looking at him with puzzled expressions.


    ¡°The cat. The cat that chick Layla had with her. The one wearing overalls.¡± Clyde continued, waving his hands around, drawing the shape of the cat in the air.


    ¡°The cat? You¡¯re saying the cat ran a distance of ten days in under a week to deliver a message to the queen?¡± Jeremy asked, chuckling softly.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Maybe it¡¯s like a familiar. You know, those animals wizards have? Can shapeshift into other animals, like birds. Maybe the cat is like that, flew all the way here.¡± Clyde tried to explain his reasoning.


    ¡°I doubt Hedwig the cat delivered any messages. It¡¯s just an ordinary cat.¡± The other man argued.


    ¡°But it¡¯s wearing PANTS.¡± The behemoth of a man insisted.


    ¡°People back home dress their pets in stupid outfits all the time, you¡¯re reading too much into it.¡± Jeremy retorted, now adamant about debunking his friend¡¯s theory.


    ¡°Fuck the cat.¡± The dark-skinned Warhound interrupted the other two soldiers, knowing that their debate could go on for hours and there were more important issues that needed solving.


    ¡°The Queen will send us to the elves. The elves will kill us, no doubt.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right.¡± Jeremy settled down, leaving the debate with Clyde for later.


    ¡°We need to let the squad know we¡¯re alive and where we are headed, so they can intercept.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but how do we do that? We got nothing.¡± The largest of the three soldiers leaned back on his hands and sighed.


    ¡°Marcel, still got your lizard around? I know those things follow you everywhere.¡±


    His companion shook his head slowly.


    ¡°No, the Queen¡¯s presence scared them off, just like it did the wyverns.¡±


    Perriman just sat in silence, listening to them talk to one another about all the options they had available. His prediction, the words he told Clyde when they first arrived in the cell next to his, were coming true. They were out of tools, out of tricks and out of luck, truly it seemed even the Gods had finally abandoned them. The duke closed his eyes, slowly drowning the last bit of defiance he had, the last bit of hope that he¡¯d see his loved ones again, accepting that he would die very soon. Albrecht¡¯s lips curved into a smile, those lofty ambitions he had when the otherworlders first arrived in his manor seemed so insignificant now. All that replayed in his mind were the Queen¡¯s words, her promise that his family would not be hunted down and executed for his crime of treason. Those words echoed in the vastness of his mind, mixing with memories of those he loved most. As memories of a happy life began to flood, he could feel his throat close up in sadness and anger. He cursed himself for thinking his ageing shoulders could support the weight of such unfounded desires. He hated being treated like a dog by the elves and now, in a cruel twist of fate, he will face a death unworthy of even dogs. The silence of the cell seemed endless now, letting regret and self-hate spread through its void, suffocating the duke. Silence. Why¡¯s the cell so silent all of a sudden?


    Albrecht opened his eyes, only to be met with the three soldiers looking at him from their cell, smiling like children about to ask their parent''s permission for some unbelievable stupidity.


    ¡°You know where our outpost is, right P?¡± Clyde asked, still grinning.


    ¡°Yes. What does that have to do with¡­¡± Perriman paused. Their angle, their final trump card, was him.


    ¡°You don¡¯t actually believe escape from this dungeon to be possible? There is not a single soul in this entire kingdom that is willing to even offer us a glance, let alone help!¡±


    But the Gods were not done proving the duke wrong. Before he could say another word, the door to the dungeon basement slowly opened, carefully to avoid making any noise. A silhouette of a guard slipped through the doorway, shrouded in dark. Whoever it was carried no torch as they did not want to be seen, and if they did not want to be seen, they must¡¯ve come without knowledge or permission from the other guards.


    Seeing the silhouette approach their cell, stepping into the barely existing light that seeped through the cracks in the prison walls, Clyde grinned even more, turning to the other two men with an ¡°I told you I was right¡± look on his face.


    ¡°I¡¯ve come to apologize for getting you three sent down here. You took the blame for my reckless actions without even knowing my name.¡± The guard whispered.


    ¡°I am Savik, pleasure to meet you and thank you. You really saved my ass up there.¡±

 Chapter 18 - Fate in the Traitors hands

    ¡°Savik, nice to see you again. Hope Elisia is not right behind you this time.¡± Jeremy approached the bars, shaking the guard¡¯s hand.


    The young guard did not recoil, shaking the otherworlder¡¯s hand eagerly.


    ¡°No, no, the other guards are oblivious to the fact I¡¯m here.¡±


    Savik¡¯s eyes shifted towards Perriman¡¯s cell for a second, disgust flashing across his face. Jeremy was not surprised by this; the duke was a traitor to the crown and kingdom after all. The soldier was certain that they would be getting such hate-filled stares from Savik also, were it not for his overwhelming fascination that he had for them.


    ¡°So you¡¯ve come here just to say thanks? Pretty risky if you ask me.¡± Clyde chimed in, now approaching the bars as well.


    ¡°No. A simple thanks would not be enough to cover what I owe you.¡± The young guard replied, letting go of Jeremy¡¯s hand and focusing on the towering behemoth of a man who approached.¡°I¡¯ve come to tell you that you will be sent to the Vatur kingdom tomorrow, at first light. The Queen does not wish to make a spectacle of it, so it will be done before most townsfolk even wake up.¡±


    The three otherwolders exchanged looks and nods before Jeremy turned his attention back to Savik.


    ¡°Is that all?¡±


    ¡°No, uh¡­¡± The guard paused as if trying to remember what else was there to tell them. He snapped his fingers and smiled.


    ¡°Ah, yes. The group escorting you will be overseen by the Second of the Queen¡¯s Guards, Lady Elisia. She will personally make sure you reach the Vatur kingdom without incident. Now, erm, this is just what I¡¯ve overheard from the guard captain, it is not definitive.¡±


    ¡°Do you know how many guards will accompany us?¡± Marcel asked from the back of the cell.


    ¡°No, no I don¡¯t. All I know is it will be a small party, small enough to draw no attention from townsfolk or bandits that plunder roads this time of year.¡±


    ¡°I see.¡± Jeremy sucked his teeth while nodding, before pointing over his shoulder with his thumb.


    ¡°What about him?¡±


    Savik looked over Jeremy¡¯s shoulder towards Albrecht¡¯s cell, his smile disappearing and a look of contempt taking its place. His voice was laced with a tone of cruel satisfaction as he told the otherworlder what fate awaited the duke.


    ¡°He will be beheaded tomorrow at noon, right in the middle of the town square. In his case, the Queen wants a spectacle.¡±


    The duke just sat on the floor of his cell, not even bothering to look at the guard. Clyde approached the bars that divided the cells and squatted down, asking Perriman for the translator stone that they had given him a few days ago so they could communicate. With a sigh, Albrecht forfeited the translucent gem back to the Warhound.


    ¡°We¡¯ve held on to this for you, Savik,¡± Clyde said as he stood up and walked over to the front of the cell where the guard stood.


    ¡°You dropped it back when we were horsing around.¡±


    ¡°The translator stone. Oh, thank the Gods, I was going insane with worry that Lady Elisia might have found it.¡± Savik smiled, exhaling in evident relief.


    Clyde held the stone in his left palm, motioning with his head for the young guard to reach out and take it. Silently, almost unnoticeably, Jeremy took a few steps back from the bars at the front of the cell. Savik smiled, reaching through the bars for the stone. Clyde also reached out, only he was much faster. The Warhound moved with speed and precision terrifying for a man his size, his right arm extending through the bars, grabbing Savik by the back of his head when he got close enough. The young guard¡¯s smile immediately disappeared when he felt the grip of the behemoth on the back of his head.


    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    ¡°What ar-¡° Savik¡¯s words never formed a full sentence as his entire body was moved effortlessly forward, his face colliding with the bars. Clyde¡¯s other hand grabbed the bar that Savik¡¯s head had struck at the exact same time, squeezing tightly to absorb the vibrations and dampen the noise of the impact.


    ¡°Mak lae der?¡± Perriman asked, watching with wide eyes as the guard crumpled to the floor.


    The Warhound tossed the translator stone to his right, through the bars, and Perriman caught it between his palms before repeating the question.


    ¡°Is he dead?¡±


    ¡°No, just unconscious,¡± Clyde replied, looking down at the body on the floor before grabbing it and dragging it as close to the bars as possible so Jeremy could search it.


    Jeremy quickly frisked the unconscious guard, pulling out a single key from one of the pockets and immediately trying to open the cell door, despite the key looking too small for the bulky lock. As expected, it did not work.


    ¡°The key¡¯s a bust. It must just be for the prison entrance and not the cells as well. Back to plan A. Bend ¡®em.¡±


    In the duke¡¯s eyes, Clyde, Jeremy and Marcel seemed like entirely different people now. No banter, no unnecessary words or explanations. All three of them moved to execute a plan that Perriman wasn¡¯t even fully aware had been set in motion the second Savik opened the prison door. Marcel was walking along the side of the cell, looking and tugging the bars that divided them from Perriman. The shortest soldier of the three suddenly stopped in front of one of the bars and looked at it up and down, before calling to his comrades.


    ¡°This one.¡±


    Without a word Clyde walked over and gripped the bar that Marcel had pointed at, straining against it with force. Albrecht could see, even in the dark of the dungeon, how the man¡¯s muscles flexed in effort against the steel. And in this battle, the steel gave way. The bar began to bend to the right until it created enough space for someone to squeeze through. Clyde let go of the bar, looking down at Albrecht as if expecting something of the man, but the duke still hasn¡¯t pieced together that this was his prison escape.


    ¡°Move your ass, Perriman.¡± The large soldier said, snapping the duke from his daze.


    Perriman got off the damp floor and moved to the bars, squeezing through them with some effort. Now in the cell with the otherworlders, he was tossed Savik¡¯s uniform that Jeremy took off the unconscious guard.


    ¡°Put it on.¡±


    With trembling hands, the duke put on the uniform, disregarding the uncomfortable feeling of clean clothes on his skin that was covered in grime. The uniform was a tight fight, Perriman could feel it cutting into his thighs and under his arms, restricting his movements somewhat, but that didn¡¯t matter as the night should bolster his disguise, so long he kept to the shadows.


    ¡°This one,¡± Marcel said, pointing at one of the bars next to the door of their cell.


    Clyde immediately walked over to it and began to bend it. Albrecht opened his mouth to say something but Jeremy interrupted him by placing a hand on his shoulder.


    ¡°You know what we¡¯re asking you to do.¡± Said the soldier.


    ¡°I do,¡± Perriman replied, his voice trembling slightly.


    ¡°Hold on to that translator stone so our people can understand you. If you lose it, just yell our names, that should be enough for them not to drop you immediately.¡± Jeremy continued, taking the stone from the duke¡¯s hand and placing it inside the pocket of the uniform.


    ¡°We trust you¡¯re smart enough to get out of this city without getting recaptured or killed. Once you¡¯re out, head straight to the outpost. Tell them what Savik told us.¡± Clyde added, stepping away from the front of the cell, presenting the duke with another opening to squeeze through.


    ¡°We won¡¯t lie to you man, you¡¯re our trump card here. Do not fail us, so we can stick it to the elves.¡± Marcel patted the duke on the back with a smile, ushering him through the hole in the bars.


    Perriman looked at the three of them as he stood on the other side of the cell, next to Savik¡¯s limp body. The duke¡¯s life was turned upside down ever since he met the otherworlders, but he only had himself to blame for that. His actions caused innumerable deaths and grief, things that would require more than a single life to atone for. Albrecht nodded, a silent agreement between him and the soldiers before he quickly left the basement.


    The otherworlders stood in silence as the heavy doors slowly closed behind Perriman before Jeremy looked down at Savik.


    ¡°Sure, he ain¡¯t dead?¡±


    Clyde shrugged.


    ¡°I think so. Wasn¡¯t my goal to kill the kid.¡±