“Heeheehee! They fuckin’ killed everyone!” A pair of men were standing in the corpse field of the gray guild, taking in the carnage. “This was Liel’s place, wasn’t it?”
The speaker surveyed the room, a jovial smile twisting his lips. Death was everywhere he looked. Some guilders had been cleanly decapitated, while others seemed partially crushed to death. Others were skewered by so many kunai, they seemed more cactus than man. The only constant between them all was the expression of terror on their faces and the great spatters of gore that surrounded them. It was hard to tell how many the dead numbered, given the state of many of the bodies.
One of the men doubled over. “Ugh… I’m gonna be sick.”
“Wimp!” The first man sighed in irritation. “Is that any way for agents of the Steel Matriarch, Heinichen, to act?!”
He himself was more than a member of the infamous dark guild—his name was Luscelt, Heinichen’s own guildmaster. He was pale and lanky, and something about the way he held himself could make any observer feel unclean. There were such dark circles beneath his eyes that it seemed nearly inhuman.
The guilder tried hard to swallow his bile. “B-But sir… It’s not every day I see so many men t-torn apart like… uegh…”
“Are you a killer, or aren’t you?” one of his guildmates jeered.
The man on the verge of losing his lunch was young—in his early twenties, if that. His passably handsome face was twisted and pale. He—Yild was his name—had killed his share of people during his time with the guild, much like the other men assembled there. He only differed in that he didn’t play with his marks before or even after the kill, and his resistance to such gore was significantly lower as a result. Nonetheless, Heinichen as a guild delighted in all manner of horrific crimes, and his weak stomach in the face of a few corpses was nothing short of laughable.
Luscelt bared his teeth in a “smile.” “Look, Yild, you’re useful, and I wanna keep you around. If you keep on bitchin’ like this, though, I’m gonna fuckin’ murder you. Capiche?!”
“Y-Yes!” Yild yelped.
Under Luscelt, Heinichen had one goal—to become the single strongest, most ruthless guild in the world. Yild was strong enough to earn a prime spot in their ranks, but his fragile constitution was nothing short of infuriating.
Luscelt turned back toward the piles of bodies. “Damn that dark guild! And here I thought those idiots were useless since they never show themselves… This’s a great surprise!”
The sight was still grotesque, however, and it made Luscelt’s heart soar. If Yerkchira could kill so many adventurers so easily, they would be worthy opponents indeed. He wouldn’t underestimate them now—even if going against the other dark guild at all was a mistake.
Yild finally nodded. “Yeah… They must be really strong.”
Luscelt felt another wave of anger since Yild had forgotten the threat against his life already, but the guildmaster calmed himself moments later. He’d far prefer insubordination to listening to the man continue to whine—not to mention that the youth was right.
One of the other guilders, a tall man with large muscles, scratched his head. “So, uh, who did this shit again?”
“C’mon, the master just said so,” Yild replied with a sigh. “Yerkchira, remember?”
Heinichen’s current target and greatest perceived enemy was the other dark guild local to their kingdom, the Messianic Legion Yerkchira. They were far older than Heinichen and were rumored to have a storied history that rivaled even the most respectable of legal guilds. Nowadays, they almost never showed themselves—especially compared to in the past.
“Right.” The muscled man nodded in recognition. “Ain’t never heard of those clowns before.”
At his side, a scrawny man shrugged, the long katana in his belt jangling. “I hate to agree with the gorilla, but I don’t know ’em either.”
Instead of being furious at them, Luscelt found himself sympathizing with them. It wasn’t surprising. Yerkchira had barely done a thing in ages; while they weren’t as committed to secrecy in the past, they had all but disappeared since. Most people wouldn’t even know the name these days, save those who lived in the shadows like him and the country’s ruling elites. It was his duty as guildmaster, however, to ensure his men stayed on their toes.
“Heehee, don’t get too careless, boys! We’ll be dukin’ it out with them to prove who’s the top dog sooner or later!”
Yild grimaced. “Great… Of course we’re fighting them.” Luscelt turned to glare at him, prompting the youth to sweat. “I-I mean, I’ve read about them, y’know?! Look, it’s here in this book!”
He held out a battered old book with trembling hands. The guildmaster took it, examining the battered cover. The title was weathered to the point it was unreadable.
The biggest of the men peered over his boss’s shoulder. “The fuck? What’s with this junk?”
Beside him, the scrawny man started cackling at the sight.
Luscelt sneered at Yild. “Heeheehee! You think I’m some kinda trash can? You really wanna get it, don’t ya?!”
“I-I don’t, honest!” Yild hurriedly shook his head. “That’s a history book from the Raeld Empire.”
“Never heard of it.”
“I’m not surprised. It doesn’t exist anymore—and supposedly, Yerkchira’s the ones who destroyed it.”
“Huh?”
Luscelt blinked vacantly. Villages disappeared every other week, for one reason or another, with the most common reason being monster attacks. Larger towns were exponentially more resilient, since they had at least a militia to protect themselves. Even if the monsters posed too great a threat, they could almost always buy enough time for the capital to send reinforcements, and the country’s elites were always enough to hold the line. That meant towns were shockingly resilient—the thought of an entire country getting destroyed was ridiculous. That was the work of entire rival armies. No guild could possibly manage such a feat.
“Don’t fuckin’ lie to me!”
“Ow?!”
Luscelt smacked the younger man hard across the face, his eyes shifting a little more uneasily than usual.
Tears gathered in the corners of Yild’s eyes. “B-But the book says—”
“Heehee, it’s all lies, idiot! Like hell any dark guild could pull off shit like that!”
“Well… um…”
Yild had no reply for that. A village or two was one thing, as the country frankly couldn’t afford to kick up a fuss over every little settlement, but even targeting a town was a serious infraction. Such a loss of resources would force the country to come down on the guild with all their might. Even if the guild managed to take down the country itself, they would instantly make enemies of all their neighbors—politics be damned, no nation would let a crime syndicate with such power have free rein. If Yerkchira had truly destroyed the Raeld Empire, they would’ve been wiped out themselves by the combined might of every nearby country. Heinichen itself had destroyed many villages and even two full towns, but they were far from able to take down a country.
Luscelt scowled. “C’mon, enough bullshit. Let’s get on back to the guild.”
“It’s not bull!” Yild protested.
“Shut the fuck up already! One more word and you’re dead.” He emphatically crushed Liel’s decapitated head under his boot, causing Yild to freeze in fear. Luscelt made a show of throwing aside Yild’s book before turning for the door. “All that matters is that their guildmaster and some girl infiltrated some tiny-ass legal guild. For now, we sit pretty and wait ‘til we hear more from our spy.”
“Roger that.”
The buff man and the lanky swordsman followed him obediently, and the three left together.
Yild’s eyes drifted to the discarded book. “It’s not just lies… is it?”
Blood had already begun to seep through its pages, and he had no desire to retrieve it to check.
“Hey!” Luscelt shouted from the door. “Get your ass over here!”
“R-Right!”
Yild hurried out of the room after his comrades like a startled hare, leaving the musty tome alone with the piles of bodies. In his haste, he failed to notice the old note that had fallen from its pages and was now ruining itself in the blood.
In our hubris, we… what must not be… paid the price. The Raeld Empire has… nster… alliance has fallen… no survivor… Soon I will follow… heed this last…
Do not touch that man.