“General Aishe! We’ve received word that the detachment has isolated the adventurers!”
The sorcerer corps, with monsters under their command, had successfully lured the adventurers away from town. Within the town itself, their number one concern had been the beastmen—but since the death of one of their elders, their command system had been in disarray.
With a silent nod of acknowledgment, the dark elf general Aishe pushed herself to her feet, her armor clinking. She was tall for an elf woman, and her body—marked with scars from various cuts—was wrapped in black leather clothing, with the chest area open. She brushed aside her silver hair, and her golden eyes stared intently at the men lined up before her.
Aishe raised her beloved black greatsword high, and declared, “Your general commands: All forces, advance!”
✦ ✦ ✦
Meanwhile, a hooded figure looked down from the sand dunes at the black-clad demon legion as it advanced across the desert. Under the harsh sunlight, she had to cover every last bit of skin with a thick hooded cloak, and even then, wisps of white smoke rose from the cloth.
She laughed maniacally under her hood.
Plans for an invasion had been laid well before her intervention, but they’d stagnated. She’d pushed them forward, won over moderates using any means necessary—including her own body—and come here herself, despite being weak to sunlight, just to make sure that things would progress.
All to avenge a dear friend.
All out of hatred toward humans.
Despite the pain of the desert sun reaching her even through her cloak, the vampire chief was delighted to see the marching army.
“War at last!” she exclaimed. “A curse upon all humans!”
✦ ✦ ✦
“The main forces have begun to move,” a hooded dark elf reported. “We now commence our operation.”
“Yeeeeeeeah!” the Krus people of the Reezan mafia cheered.
There were two types of dark elf in this town: those born here or in the desert, whose mentality was similar to that of forest elves; and those who hailed from the demonic nation, who, despite having left their homeland, still took pride in it.
In the past, the Holy Church, upon establishing itself on the continent of Sars, had branded dark elves as evil, persecuted them, and driven them out of fertile lands. To ensure none forgot that history, the dark elves had embraced the derogatory term “demon” and repeatedly clashed with nations and people who followed the Holy Church’s teachings.
Most citizens of the Demonic Nation of Dais were part of the army, even when living outside their country. Despite having moved to this town, made human friends, and shared drinks and laughter with them, these demons would take up arms at their nation’s command.
Such behavior was beyond the understanding of the Krus people of the Reezan mafia.
Their objective was to seize authority over this town. They’d brought the demons on board as mercenaries to weaken the other factions’ power from within. They believed everyone—even demons—had a price, and couldn’t understand the dark elves’ true nature.
Meanwhile, the demon army’s objective was to secure Cutlass as a military base from which to launch an invasion of the Kal’Faan empire. Though the Reezan knew as much, they were ignorant in matters of politics and had assumed the demons would simply operate out of Cutlass and nothing else.
Using that naivety to their advantage, the demons had formed superficial agreements with the Reezan and used them to blockade the town. The demon army had provided them with equipment and military power, incited them to attack the bases of the other three factions, and encouraged them to wreak havoc in town as needed to serve their own objectives.
Fools, a dark elf thought, scoffing as he watched smoke rise from the town in the distance.
The attacks within Cutlass had been commanded by the dark elves who lived there, but several demon military personnel had blended in with them to negotiate with the Reezan.
One of them—Gieva, a Rank 3 sorcerer—was stationed with members of the Reezan at one of the main roads through the walls surrounding the town, attacking caravans and residents attempting to escape. This was a temporary assignment, lasting only until the main forces arrived—their role was to secure the roads so the main forces could enter the town.
The Reezan seemed to believe the demons would eliminate the other three factions. In reality, once the main forces got here, the armed Reezan mafia, too, would become a problem to eliminate.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“Wait, don’t—”
The Reezan members had fallen upon a party of adventurers guarding a fleeing caravan. Blood sprayed into the air and fell upon the dry earth, staining it red.
The blockade of Cutlass was meant to prevent information from reaching Kal’Faan. It wasn’t sufficient for the demon army to secure the town itself; if Kal’Faan were to hear of their plan before the demons’ forces were ready, it might attack first. The slain merchants and adventurers were from Kal’Faan—the demons could not allow them to escape.
The Reezan were more than happy to assist, as it meant easy plunder: coin, merchandise, and good-looking women for their pleasure districts. Though the residents here, used to harsh living, could fight back, they were no match for fully armed Rank 2 and 3 fighters. Those trying to escape had their property seized and families taken, and those who resisted were mercilessly cut down.
“P-Please, at least spare my baby!” a young mother pleaded while holding a crying infant.
“Hmm? I dunno. Boss, what do you think?” the Reezan member asked Gieva.
Though young humans had value as slave labor, babies were a problem. Gieva gave the mother and crying child an annoyed look and spat, “Useless. Kill anyone who can’t work.”
The Reezan member laughed and raised his single-edged blade. “Shit luck, babe.”
“N-No...” the mother murmured in despair.
Such actions were unthinkable for a soldier, but these people were with the Reezan—worse than the worst back-alley mercenaries. For his part, Gieva held no sympathy for those whose lives were forfeit one way or another, and he wasn’t interested in anything beyond his orders.
“Hurry and hand over that brat—”
Just as the man tried to tear the baby from its mother, a mutter came from somewhere.
“Hey. What’s that?”
A shadow raced through the hazy desert, distorted by the scorching heat of the sun overhead. The figure’s cloak fluttered like phantom bird wings as they moved at unbelievable speeds, drawing closer so fast that the men couldn’t believe their eyes.
Before the stunned men could react, the shadow had closed in and slashed the throat of one of them with a black blade; he hadn’t so much as had the chance to ready his spear.
“Huh?”
Only a few had the time to utter exclamations of disbelief. Most had no idea what had happened, barely registering the blood suddenly gushing from their dead comrade. The only sounds came from those who’d realized that they didn’t know what was going on, and by the time they understood that they were under attack, five men on the perimeter had already collapsed, their blood gushing forth just as the spearman’s had.
“Someone’s attacking us!” Gieva managed, his voice cracking.
The Reezan men hastily readied their weapons, and Gieva began casting his specialty—fire sorcery. But before the spell could activate, the figure was upon the men, cutting them down with such terrifying speed that space itself seemed to warp around them. The large fluttering cloak, seemingly unsuited for battle, concealed the figure’s form, triggering a primal fear that this enemy might not even be human.
“Ngah!”
Seized by fear, the men froze, their movements dulling. Black blades swung and flashed and danced, and one by one, the men were slaughtered—eyes pierced, foreheads stabbed, throats slashed.
“Raaaaaah!!!”
The survivors had finally come to their senses. They roared as one, swinging axes and thrusting spears.
“Die! Flame Javelin!” Gieva chanted, his spell piercing through even his own allies.
No matter how inhuman their foe was, surely they couldn’t survive this—
But the figure leaped into the air instantly, clearing the spears with ease. A shield made of pure light deflected the flame javelin. The air whistled around the fluttering shade as the surrounding men had their skulls crushed, throats pierced, and carotids torn in a gory spectacle.
“Gah...”
At the surreal scene of his allies drowning in a sea of blood, Gieva stopped moving just long enough for a throwing knife to find his own forehead. In his darkening vision, he caught a glimpse of peach-tinted brilliance—and then he was gone.
The girl who had annihilated the dark elf and his Reezan co-conspirators in but a few dozen seconds pried her knife free from Gieva’s forehead, then turned toward the stunned civilians, her expression unchanged.
“The demon army is coming. Flee or go back into town—you have your lives to do with as you please.”