“Well, would you talk about exciting! Did ya see that pompous nobleman’s undignified end?”
“You little shit… You’re completely wasted. Now there’s no point in me sayin’ anything.”
“But it was a major upset! And we got a raise! And my wife’s happy! A man’s gotta celebrate, y’know?”
“Shit, keep it down. You’d be better off goin’ to bed.”
For all my scoffing at Adan’s drunk antics, I still found myself holding a glass of liquor in a tavern later that night. My drink was crude and strong. Just one sip burned your throat, coating it with a chemical bitterness that only guys like us can handle. The food was also shit. Dried meat covered in dirt and dust. It was rough to the touch, too. One lick of it was enough to make you feel like there was a fistful of sand in your mouth.
Then again, Eltania was in such a sorry state these days that even shit like this counted as top-shelf cuisine. Things were so bad in the kingdom that meat alone was considered a luxury.
We were sitting at a table with bad food and bad drinks. But Adan was in a good mood.
“People are sayin’ we’re real close to slitting that shitty queen’s throat. Doesn’t it get ya pumped?! Eh?!”
That was a sign that this rebellion was nearing its end… And that witch had no one but herself to blame for it. Her name was Mylene Eltania. The reigning king, Albert, had married her because she possessed the Hair of Sulberia—silvery-white locks streaked with vermilion that were a sign of being blessed by God.
Once she became queen, Mylene got up to all sorts of wickedness. She taxed her people to hell while living a life of luxury, and she would severely punish anyone who voiced even the slightest complaint. The king was her puppet—he couldn’t defy her since she was “God’s Gift.”
When civil unrest had reached its apex, Duchess Melissa Tullio du Lulutrois, who had always sided with the common people, was executed. That was what kicked off the war. The peasants revolted and hired mercenaries. And just like that, a campaign to kill the evil queen got underway. Most of the mercs weren’t even in it for the money—they just wanted a regime change. Went to show just how much that bitch Mylene had pissed everyone off.
And now victory was in sight. The noblemen who were corrupted soon after Mylene’s coronation had atrophied over the many years of peace that had preceded her. With our triumph all but assured, rebels, citizens, and mercenaries alike were in a festive mood.
However…
“O, Dia Milus, almighty god! Hear your pious follower’s solemn vow: I will bury that cursed child of Eltania. I will rip out her entrails, and I will smash her head with a cobblestone!”
“Mylene’s head!”
“Let the head of God’s Bitch be an offering to thee!”
…No matter how you sliced it, this kingdom was on the outs. I ignored Adan’s drunken babbling and indulged in a little thinking as I sipped my booze.
Mylene’s coronation had corrupted Eltania at an alarming rate. And the rot didn’t end with the nobility—the peasants who relied on their protection had gone bad, too. Heathenistic flags were springing up randomly in the streets, and everyone and their mother muttered the name of some bogus god as they spat out violent, profane curses.
The deity that these psychos ranted about was Dia Milus. If I recalled correctly, that was the name of one of the Gods of the Moon, which were worshipped by a cult. Its members would gather around a statue of a serpent with horns, like they were putting on a Witches’ Sabbath. If you asked me, a god like that had no business being invoked at a celebratory feast.
I gave less than a shit about religion, but all the cultists in town sure looked proud of themselves. When they yelled the same psychobabble at you every day, ya couldn’t help but retain what they said.
And that wasn’t the only thing that was rotten these days.
“Ah… Here it comes. The rush. Yeah, it definitely hits ya faster with booze… Hee-hee…”
“Wh-whoa, there… Isn’t that ludus? Gimme some… I just ran out of the stuff—”
“Fuck off! This powder’s mine! I ain’t partin’ with a single hit!”
A narcotic, whose use and distribution by citizens was banned by the government, had become widespread. It was called ludus for the pleasure it brought, and it was created from a crimson flower. People claimed it caused no long-term damage to the body, but as a healthy person watching other poor saps use it, it was obvious that it made people slowly lose their minds.
And while there were some guys like Adan who hadn’t been affected, this country was putrid. From inside out. Like a plague was running rampant.
But then again…from where I was sitting, I didn’t really care about any of that. I just kept watching, feeling everything at a distance as I quietly sipped my liquor.
Noticing I was by myself, Adan came stumbling over from his drinking buddies. “Ha-ha… What a mess, eh?”
“You’re telling me.” I smirked. Adan was an optimistic guy, but he must’ve had some anxieties over the situation we were all in.
“If only the Duchess Melissa were still alive. Then maybe none of this would have happened… Curse that motherfucking queen!”
Adan claimed he was in the fight for the money, but it was really avenging the duchess that lit the fire in his belly. I, on the other hand, had no such noble motives. Then again, I wasn’t really after the coin, either.
“You wanna make her pay, too. Right, Envil?”
“Yeah… Guess so. Though I’m not as gung ho about it as you,” I answered agreeably, chuckling over Adan’s drunken antics.
But I wasn’t participating out of apathy, either. The reason I came back to this country to battle as a mercenary was…in a word, principle.
I had no parents. I mean, of course someone had brought me into this world, but I’d been an orphan as long as I could remember. To be honest, I don’t think I had a bad life at the orphanage. I hadn’t known it at the time, but all the grown-ups at the orphanage were equally kind to all of us. Even to plebeians like me who were ridiculed for being magicless.
And I could say the same of the kids I’d grown up with at the orphanage. Though I don’t remember being close friends with any of them, none of them were ever mean to me. It had been years now since I’d left the orphanage to be on my own, but I was so grateful to the people who raised me there that I still sent them letters from time to time. Only after striking out by myself did I realize the orphanage was a nice, cozy place to grow up. I liked it enough to describe it that way.
“Oh, right… I heard that bitch queen burned down the orphanage you called home…”
“Yeah. Something about them paying for the sin of hiding the fact that plebeians had turned to worshipping a cult to bring comfort to their pathetic lives.”