Note: Best read at 3/4 or 1/2 Story Width

Rogues

Chapter 1: Hearts and Minds

Have you heard?

The rumors about the red-eyed monster and the blue-eyed demon?

They say they're a pair of Apostles, chasing after the wicked to deliver punishment. Slavers, smugglers, bandits, all sorts of dirty and immoral men, they are the prey. Entire marauder camps are slain to the last man, their slaves freed and their treasures barely touched. The leaders are usually found dead or beyond saving, and their bodies tortured and broken like the slaves they captured, their minds shattered. Whether they do this as a testament to their prowess, a warning to others, or even both, no one truly knows. An infamous brigand was found with his hand speared to a tree, gibbering and sobbing like a child. All he could talk about were red eyes and blue eyes.

Does it not send a shiver down your spine?

Who are they, really? Of course, no one knows. Perhaps they are the collective anger and indignation of all those enslaved by the Empire and other kingdoms, given form, flesh, and fury to claim retribution. Some think they were born from the blood and regrets of the thousands killed at Alnus, when the armies were beaten back by those men in green. Others claim they serve the same gods as those men in green. Whatever they are, they came after the Gate opened, like vicious hunting dogs unleashed from their cages.

No. Not even like hunting dogs. They are wolves.

Moving swiftly yet silent like the wind, they've become ghosts that haunt wicked men. You will never see them coming until it is too late. And when you do, you had best pray you are not their quarry. At least then, your death with be quick. Otherwise, you may lose everything before your life.

They sound like the monsters our mothers warned us about for misbehaving, true; bad children are eaten by witches, stolen away by ogres, or have their eyes plucked out by evil fairies. Now those terrible things are coming for us! Watch your words and especially watch your actions. You will never know where the red-eye monster stalks, or if the blue-eyed demon is watching you. A good man has nothing to fear, but a sinful one should keep an eye on his back.

There's no tracking them. They're not like the Apostle Rory Mercury, who follows war and battles. These monsters just show up with death in their wake, following the wicked and the depraved.

They could be walking among us, our judges and executioners.

They could be here, weighing our sins.

They could even be right behind you, waiting for you to fall.

You laugh? Do you really think such rumors spread that easily? Time eventually reveals lies and exaggerations, but these kind of whispers get around because more than one person saw the same thing.

Fine. Don't believe me if you wish.

It won't save you when they come for you.

"That's the rumor going around, sir."

"Hmm. Aka-oni and Ao-oni? Odd that they'd have a story similar to our red and blue demons."

Koda Village was small but lively, a place to live and raise a family rather than devote one's life to trade. Children and wives looked on, curious, as strange men and women clad entirely in odd green clothing and riding horseless carriages came into town. Thankfully, they were peaceful, if not completely able to communicate, but that was the village chief's problem.

Being one of the first settlements they encountered, the members of Japan's Ground Defense Force Third Recon Team approached the populace with open, friendly hands. The people here were not connected to the Imperial forces that had attacked their nation—at least, not directly—and could likely provide some vital information, such as local events, rumors, and more importantly: where to go next. Communication was, as expected, spotty, but each member of the team learned something in their chats. As they regrouped, they shared what they learned. Curious among the small talk were rumors of demons and monsters.

"Maybe that's how it is around here? Without cameras, there's no way of proving things without direct contact. Even then, people can exaggerate stories." Private Kurata watched with half-lidded eyes. Only humans around here; not a single catgirl, dragongirl, anything-girl anywhere!

"Could just be their own boogiemen. Japan only has eight million of them." Another man, Private Tozu, adjusted his glasses. "And we've plenty of scary movies and games showing them."

The oldest man among them, Sergeant Major Kuwahara, interrupted. "You're thinking kannazuki, kid. Eight million gods, not monsters. But you may be right. Slavery's a nasty thing, so maybe these stories are spread to make them think twice?"

"Or it may be actual monsters. I mean, there were corpses of ogre-like things at Ginza and Alnus Hill, right?" Kurata asked, leaning against his vehicle's steering wheel. "They got bandits and stuff like that, too."

"Maybe it's just coincidence."

"A lot of maybes and not enough certainties. I doubt HQ would want to know about the could-be and might-be around here, but if that red and blue thing pops up frequently we should take note of it."

"Heads up. There's someone on horseback approaching, and he doesn't look all too happy."

Leaning against his heavy machine gun's turret, the private frowned. Only seconds to decide: was this hostile or something else? Open fire, or let them pass? Apart from rifle marksmanship, his weapon had the longest range. His hand hovered over the fifty-cal's charging handle.

"Keep calm but keep an eye on him, Katsumoto," Kuwakara cut in, old steely eyes tracking the rider and beast. "He's alone on a light horse, so he's probably not after us."

Katsumoto's hand left the charging handle, but he refused to relax. "Understood, Sergeant Major."

"Rest of you, keep out of his way. He's in hell of a hurry."

They watched, with some relief, as the rider sped by them without so much as a glance.

"Wonder what's that all about?"

"...Did anyone notice that guy had pointy ears?"

Kurata perked up.

Inside, the town, two JSDF soldiers spoke to a shorter, older man with a bowler hat; the village elder. With the same broken words as the rest of the troops, they tried to keep a solid conversation, but both sides knew that there was much lost in translation. Their conversation was interrupted, however, by the sudden arrival of a large beast and its rider. The horse gave a discontent whinny as it came to an abrupt stop, the rider leaping off and approaching the village elder. Words and greetings were passed, but the frown that marred the elder's face did little to supplicate the team. Whatever was said was not good news. A final few words passed between the Japanese and elder, the former nodding in thanks as he stepped away. As if spurned by that, the village in its entirety exploded in fervor of anxious movement.

Horses were roused from their stalls, carts drawn up and sacks of goods thrown about. The Japanese recon team watched as the sleepy town transformed into bustling, if a somewhat panicked, chaos.

"What's going on, Lieutenant?" Kuwahara greeted their returning leader.

"Damned if I know," Lieutenant Itami Youji gave an exaggerated shrug as he approached. "They spoke way too fast for me to keep up, but there's something about fire that's got them all spooked. He couldn't talk anymore after that. I don't know if it'll affect us but we should be careful. In any case, they're too busy to deal with us now so we might as well head out. I did manage to get some directions."

Kuwahara nodded, turning to the rest of the Recon team. "Mount up!"

Behind him, a young woman frowned. "We're just going to leave them, Lieutenant?"

"Hmm, you know, maybe we should help. Maybe also confirm what's got them all panicky," Itami rubbed day old stubble. "We'll raise some flags, score some points, then let them go once things look clear."

"Glad I thought of it!" Shino Kuribayashi gave him a wide, toothy grin.

Really, kids these days.

"Sure sure, Kuribayashi. Whatever you want," Itami shrugged, turning to Kuwahara instead. "Hey, old man, let's give these folks a hand?"

"Yes, sir. Third recon! We'll be helping these people out a bit, so get moving!"

"Make up your mind, old man!" someone shouted, though without any true annoyance. The team chuckled as they dismounted, spreading themselves among the townsfolk. While they could not communicate all that well, the townsfolk understood well enough that these men and women in green were here to help.

What would have taken the entire morning was done by midday, a literal train of horse-drawn carriages filling the streets. At the convoy's head, Third Recon's three vehicles would lead once everyone was ready. Still, the line was impressively long. Virtually every family had some sort of cart, be it horse-drawn or human, with an incredible amount of belongings piled haphazardly in.

The language barrier's bigger than I thought... Itami scribbled a note. There didn't seem to be much similarity with any language from the other side of the Gate, and his attempt to put together a decent translation was interrupted with the town's scramble to pack up and leave. At least now, with everyone helping, he could do a bit more while spreading the love.

What he would do to have an actual linguist on the team instead of him and his crew trying to piece together a translation that didn't sound like some foreigner stereotype! At least then he could delegate that task too.

Snapping his notebook shut, he broke into a jog to join his crew, only to stumble when a loud burst of rifle fire shattered the air.

Oh fuck.

Itami snapped into a sprint, slinging his rifle around into his hands.

Oh fuck!

Unless under immediate threat of violence, all of Third Recon were to hold fire until ordered; the gunshots were a clarion call to the other Japanese soldiers as they scrambled over to investigate, rifles in their hands.

"What happened?!" Itami shouted as he approached, the crowd parting easily as he pushed through.

Kuwahara was still holding the smoking gun, both metaphoric and literal. No less than two meters away, a dead horse lay slumped perilously close to a fallen child and the squad's medic, Kurokawa. A private patted the old man's shoulder. "Good shot there, sarge!"

"Everything's fine, Lieutenant," the same private gestured to the horse carcass. "Looks like they loaded too much and it broke the axle. The whole thing tipped over, that child was injured and the horse started panicking. Would've crushed those two kids and Kurokawa if the Sarge didn't put it down."

Oh. Oh good. Nothing terribly wrong then. A breath of relief escaped him.

Apart from the scary noise, the crowd seemed to be staring at them in awe. Rather than the people, however, Itami's attention was soon drawn to the small girl that stared wide-eyed at the gathered soldiers. Sky blue, almost cerulean colored hair, with matching eyes and unusual choice of clothes. Compared to the rest of the town's population, this girl stood out the most in appearance alone. Was she from the town at all?

He had no more time to think about it, however, as others arrived with a stretcher for Kurokawa and the injured child.

"Alright, let's help them clear this out of the way and get this line moving again!"

Soon, they were all moving again. His troops' idle chatter was background noise to his own thoughts.

"But what if there really is a red oni and blue oni?

"Let's hope they're actually nice monsters and not the people eating kind!"

"Would they even survive against us?"

"It's like that one American film, with that Schwarzenegger guy fighting that alien. Hunter? Uh, Marauder?"

"Predator." The answer came from the driver.

"Yeah! Predator!" A short pause. "I didn't know you were into foreign films, Kurata."

"I'm a man of many interests! Besides, western films can be pretty good! Though, their animated works have a lot to be desired compared to Japan," Kurata had a smug grin, confident. "And that's an awful comparison. The human won in the end against a superior foe! There's no way we're gonna lose here!"

"Hey, remember that guy on the horse? I'm pretty sure he's an elf!"

"Oh maaan~! Are we gonna see some cute elf girls? I wanna touch their ears!"

"Elves are quick to recognize lewdness, so you might get an arrow in the knee before you even get a chance."

"Did you just— You son of a bitch."

Their chatter came and went as the caravan rolled on.

On a hillside, two men on horseback watched the Japanese roll by. At a distance, they seemed like any other rider, tattered cloaks draped over their shoulders. Yet, should one get closer, they would see articles unknown to the rest of the land. Pleated wool pants, dusty and torn in places; oxford shoes, once polished to a shine, now scuffed and dull; white dress shirts that had seen better days and striped silk ties stained with dried blood, mostly hidden under thick travelling cloaks.

"Red circle on white. Japan's Nisshouki flag. Looks likes they got their response together," one announced, letting his binoculars hang. "Nice of them to help out."

"It only took them, what, a month? Two? Though it's not like we've anything to show," the other said, already bringing his horse around. "Let's go. That dragon's still nearby."

Past midday, the sun hung over them like a merciless god. What would have been a pleasant drive had transformed into a sweaty, sticky mess as the lack of wind and slow progression ate away at everyone's sanity. Progression was slowed to worse than a crawl.

Rain from days past had turned the ground into mud while also adding unwanted humidity to the air. What resulted was an outright miserable experience for everyone, even for the modern JSDF with modern engines and modern wheels. Weighed down with their lives' works, wheels sank into the mud. Those that could not be pulled out had to be abandoned, families left to walk with only what they could carry. It was a small mercy that the men in green took in some of the young, the elderly, and the injured.

Kurata, tired yet comfortable in his driver's seat, made a cursory glance into the rearview mirror. Of note on his mental headcount, he checked off the ever present shapes of Third Recon's Light Armored Vehicle and light truck, a few horses and their carts, and a huge red dragon swooping down on the caravan—

"Contact behind!" he howled, already jerking his wheel to the side. "Contact behind!"

Their mounted gunner whirled about, racking the medium machinegun as he did so, while the other occupants scrambled for something to hold onto. Despite it all, they were already too late. In a single breath, an enormous gout of flame poured onto the convoy, as if Hell itself had opened a river of fire and agony upon them.

Screams and lives cut short as entire wagons were engulfed, wood and flesh scorched to ash in an instant. The convoy broke apart as the people panicked. Horses, already exhausted from the trek, squealed and bucked with their heavy loads. They trampled people and grass alike, pulling with desperate abandon as their masters whipped their hinds.

"A goddamn dragon?!" This was the fire thing they were talking about?! Itami and his team mirrored each other as they yanked their weapons' charging handles. "Go! Go! Move it! These people are dying!"

Meat. That's all these people were. Meat to consume, raw or roasted. A mother and child turned to pulp against the dragon's sword-like teeth. Meat wasted as a wagon tipped over and crushed the dropped infant. Meat lost as it burned into inedible black carbon. Meat denied as the JSDF roared across the field, all guns blazing away.

"We of the JSDF have a history of fighting monsters!" Kuwahara shouted, pointing a defiant finger at the great beast before them. "Show that thing who's boss!"

Their bullets did no visible damage, even the venerable fifty-caliber heavy machine gun, but they served well enough to draw the dragon's attention to them. A mixed blessing, the soldiers would soon discover as the dragon reared its head back and took a deep breath. Itami knew what was coming.

"Incoming breath! Evade! Evade!"

Kurata jerked the wheel, snapping the entire vehicle to the side as a stream of liquid fire washed over where. They could feel the residual heat from the dragon breath, some of them reflexively raising their arms to protect their faces. Children screamed as their faces were bathed in hot reds and orange, gripping each other in terror as the world around them shook and jerked. Kurokawa held the smallest against her, the child burying his head as deeply into the larger woman's vest as possible.

"HOOORRY SHEEEIT! Everyone, hang onto your butts!"

"I need more bullets! Tozu! Gimme one of yours!"

"How the hell did you run out so fast, Kuribayashi?!"

"I hope we level up from this encounter."

"Is this really the time?!"

Itami grit his teeth as he slapped a fresh magazine in, already two down and without anything to show for it. Shooting the dragon was like fighting a damn tank with a BB gun! For all their speed and advanced technology, something as primal as this fire dragon was proving to be insurmountable. If anything, they were just pissing it off even more! At the very least, they had the dragon's attention, but they would not last much longer.

We're not equipped to handle something like this…!

Not only that, the beast was learning. Every fire breath came closer and closer. Was it corralling them using the scorched earth?!

"Lieutenant! Look ahead!"

He heard it before he saw it. The loud thunder of hooves drowned out the noise of their engines as dozens of men and women on horseback flowed over the hill in a river of sun-kissed hair. The air around them seemed to shimmer and sparkle, short bows drawn tight before loosing a barrage of arrows. Like the SDF before them, however, their weapons bounced off adamantine hide.

"Reinforcements?"

Hostile? Negative. Their aim was the fire dragon, just like them.

The enemy of my enemy is my friend.

"Watch your fire! New units are allies!"

While not as fast as Third Recon's vehicles, they were far more agile, riding opposite to the SDF's position around the dragon and splitting its attention between the two of them. A single horse split off from the group, its rider gradually coming up to speed next to Itami's humvee. The rider—a startlingly beautiful blonde young woman—waved at him, shouting something he couldn't figure out.

"Ono! Ono!" He could barely hear her over the cacophony.

"What?!"

"Onooo!" she shouted, pointing at her eyes then pointing at the beast.

Itami's head snapped around, cracking as he stared at the creature. There. He could see it. In its left eye, a small arrow, the rest of the organ dull and milky compared to the sharply reptilian orange of the right. He squeezed the broadcast button so tightly he thought he could crush the handpiece. "The eye! Aim for its eyes!"

As one, Third Recon's combined firepower focused on the dragon's head causing it to flinch back and wave its arms in futile effort. This was the opportunity he was hoping for!

"Katsumoto! Hit it with the Nissan!"

"Yes sir!"

As one of the largest men in the group, Private Wataru Katsumoto was both the LAV's turret gunner and the one in charge of the team's anti-tank weapon. Hefting the heavy tube up, he grinned as he sighted his target.

"Oh right," he paused, looking over his shoulder. "Back blast clear…"

"God damn it just shoot already!"

He squeezed the trigger just as the LAV hit a bump, jostling his aim at the last second and sending the rocket veering off course. A decisive blow lost.

"You fuckin' missed!?"

"This is it. We are going to die."

"Shut up and get me the second warhead! Hurry!"

The order was almost futile, the warhead being safely tucked away and sealed inside a solid box that would waste precious seconds to open. In that time, there was so much the dragon could do to ruin everything.

Before they could do so, a flicker of light and wind drew their attention away. Distant, the Japanese soldiers could hear distant chanting coming from the cavalry.

Although it appeared that the rocket would miss, it shook and tumbled as the strange light enveloped it. The JSDF watched in awe as the warhead flew as if it were a bird, twisting midair unnatural to its design, and righting itself in a straight shot to the dragon. Stranger still, the rocket seemed to shoot forward in a burst of speed, a trail of incandescent lights following.

The dragon, however, recognized the panzerfaust rocket as something dangerous. Despite being pelted at all sides by gunfire and magick'd arrows, it heaved its massive body to the side. Yet it could not dodge the rocket completely, the warhead spearing the creature at its shoulder and erupting in a thunderous burst of flame and smoke.

It howled. Oh, did it howl. The children in Itami's vehicle all screamed in terror, tiny hands clasped over tiny ears as they desperately tried to block out that horrid sound. Even the grown men and women of the JSDF flinched at the cry. Katsumoto ground his teeth as he fumbled the second warhead onto the rocket launcher, locking it in just as the dragon's wings spread to its full width.

Its thin flesh was peppered with small holes, but it would not slow the fire dragon down as it beat its wings. The wash the wings created cleared away the smoke, revealing a ragged stump of flesh and exposed bone where its left arm used to be. First its left eye, now its left arm. Too bad they could not claim its left flank, as within seconds, it was too far for anyone to fight. The dragon had disappeared into the clouds. Third Recon rolled to a stop, its soldiers heaving a collective sigh of relief.

They had won… barely.

Kurata heaved a tired breath, leaning heavily against the wheel. "Oh man. It's over, isn't it?"

"For now, I guess…" Itami slumped against his seat, feeling equally exhausted. The blonde elf girl trotted up to them, earning a tired wave from the lieutenant. She smiled, returning the gesture. As she came closer, certain details about her became evident, and Itami jabbed an elbow into Kurata's side.

"Ow! What?! What is it?!"

Itami Youji, Lieutenant and Otaku of the Japanese Self Defense Force, wordlessly pointed at the miracle beside them. Kurata Takeo, Sergeant and Otaku of the same, gaped and rubbed his eyes. Was what he saw true? Was it…?

She was still there.

"Dude, dude! She's an elf! Her ears!" Kurata cheered, punching his commanding officer in the shoulder. "Oh my god, elves exist! This is the best day ever! You know what this means, right?"

"Heh. Ehh…"

"If elves exist, then other monster girls gotta exist! Hell yeesssss!"

They, or rather, Kurata, felt their previous exhaustion slough off, replaced by a childish glee in seeing not only an otherworldly beauty, but one that was well within their "strike zone." Or perhaps, this was just one man's interest. Itami was just laughing along.

She tilted her head, giving them a quizzical look. That only caused them to giggle and swoon even harder, falling over themselves as they giggled. Their cheer was so infectious, she could not help but laugh as well.

What silly people!

"Well shit, they survived."

"They're still a trained army, if lacking actual combat experience."

"Not an army! They're a Self Defense Force."

"They're the ninth largest military in the world, and that change in their constitution bolstered their numbers. On paper, they're SDF. Here, they're an invading army."

"Please. I was stationed in Okinawa for a while. I know what they are."

"Should we show ourselves? You can reintroduce yourself to them."

"Not yet, no. There's still a lot we need to get done first."

The sun set upon grieving mothers, broken fathers, orphans. A large grave was erected on a nearby hill, dozens of crosses marking where families and friends took their final rest. Among the tearful were twelve men and women in green, standing with folded hands and bowed heads in solemn prayer. It took all of them until now to salvage what they could, burn the rest, and bury the fallen. Once the prayers were finished, the convoy could continue on, this time without fear of attack.

Even then, there were those that were left behind. Some children, some elderly, and some too wounded to be taken along. They could not go with the people they called their neighbors anymore.

"Can't take with?" Itami had asked (oh gods it sounded awful) the village chief, to which he got a solemn shake of the head.

"I know it to be cruel, but we cannot support them with what meager supplies we have left. We are already pooling our resources just to give us strength to keep moving. I fear we do not have the luxury to go much further."

"I see…"

The village chief turned to their other companion. "Lord Hodor, could you not help these people as well?

Hodor Ray Marceau, the leader of the band of elves that came to help, stood equal to Itami's height, though his vestments and stance gave him a very regal presence. His men and women were helping the people recover alongside the men in green. He also shook his head, frowning.

"We too suffered from the flame dragon. Our home and forest is completely destroyed, leaving us homeless and seeking distant friends and family. Fortunately, we were warned by a pair of travelers about the monster, giving us precious time to evacuate. We thought it best to pay it forward and warn Koda Village and other settlements. Our homes may be but ash and cinder, but we are alive."

"We can always rebuild, but we can never bring back lost lives." The village chief bowed his head. "You have our eternal gratitude for saving those you could. It is not your fault, nor anyone else's here, that the others fell. The Flame Dragon is a force of nature, much like a dangerous storm. It was by your strengths and guile that so many of us get to continue on."

"Indeed." Hodor nodded. "If only we had such strength when the dragon came to our home, we could have celebrated a great victory instead of running away. Had it not been the two travelers' warning, I fear we would be attacked completely unaware, our entire village utterly consumed."

A grim, but accurate prediction. Even with Itami and his men's quick reaction, at least a hundred and fifty people were killed or consumed. That thought sent a shiver down Youji's back. Some people couldn't even bury their lost, the bodies melting away in that dragon's stomach.

Uuugh.

"Kind sirs, your strength and kindness will never be forgotten, and we will be sure to let everyone know of your feats. Please, find it in yourselves to help them. They've nowhere to go, and they cannot rely on us." With those last words, the village chief donned his hat and joined his caravan. The rest of Third Recon waved and shouted wellwishes to the departing people, earning confused but happy waves back. All the while, the elves watched on a few steps away.

Sergeant Major Kuwahara approached Itami, clasping his hands behind his back. "What will we do, Lieutenant?"

He referred to those left behind, still resting in Third Recon's vehicles. Kurokawa joined them, giving him an expectant look.

"Well…" He looked over to those that remained. They stared back with furrowed brows and tight, nervous frowns. Please don't leave us, they begged with their eyes.

Really, there was only one choice.

"Don't mind, don't mind! We all go to Alnus together!" Itami gave them a big, toothy smile and an energetic V.

The children and others understood, even if his words were not. They cheered and returned the smile and gesture, much to the glee of Itami's team.

"Lord Itami, if I may?" Hodor approached them, along with that beautiful elf girl from before. Without her horse, the slender girl stood a little shorter than Itami. "Allow me to introduce Tuka Luna Marceau, my daughter. In the interest of cooperation, I would have her travel with you and establish relations with the Jay Ess Dee Eff, acting as both representative of our people and myself."

Well, that was no problem. What was one more person to the list of refugees?

Tuka, however, did not seem to know Hodor's intentions. She whirled about, lustrous golden hair flaring behind her. "Father? You didn't mention this!"

The older elf placed a hand on her shoulder, calming her. "My precious daughter, I must help our people find a new home to settle, but these men in green represent a new and unknown power. It may be wise to open discussions with them, or at the very least, give them a venue in which to communicate. As my daughter, you will be the representative of our people."

Tuka paused, hesitant, but she gave Hodor a serious nod.

"I understand, father," she nodded, hugging him close. "Please, be safe."

"Tuka, we survived a fire dragon! Anything else will be simple to deal with, in comparison." Hodor chuckled as he returned the hug, giving his child a clear and warm smile. "When we settle, I will come for you. Until then, let these people know of the humble pride of the high elves."

Tuka watched as her family rode off, to join her brethren. She knew her mission, granted upon her by her father and her people. She would see what these men and women in green truly were.

Hours later, they approached the holy hill. These horseless iron wagons could travel faster than her horse, she knew. After all, she had barely managed to catch up to them as they battled the dragon. Yet, they kept a comfortable speed alongside her. A polite people, she decided.

The insular lives of elves betrayed Tuka as she bore witness to the strange and new Alnus Hill. She had known this place before, a holy place for many and for that reason, it was a neutral site. No group could claim it for their own and settle it, until now. Towering grey and white structures, numerous men in green standing upon them in watchful vigil. The land bristled with strange briars, large metal crossed bars, and and the deep scars of many battles. There were signs in both common tongue and unknown characters, warning about trespassing and certain death.

So many things she never knew of, never seen before or even heard. The air was dirtier here, much like the cities she had visited briefly, but more acrid and sharp. It was faint yet dizzying.

She shivered as she saw what may have been defiance of said warning: a deep crater that was still blackened by fire. Scraps of armor and a broken sword lay aside the upturned soil, remnants of the fallen. Distantly, she could hear familiar thunder of these peoples' weapons. A heavy rumble followed, strange metal chariots with bulky tops and a long pole protruding from it ripped apart the earth as it rolled along in formation. Even stranger was another set of chariots, bright yellow in color with large claw-like arms and gouging deep holes in the earth with a mere swipe. What would have taken a group of men hours of hard labor was done in a second with a simple gesture.

Tuka would not realize it until later, but this was no mere settlement.

This was war.

Elsewhere, hours ago.

A half dozen men sat around a roaring fire, laughing and feasting upon ill gotten goods. A wrecked wagon was overturned nearby, a ruined man's corpse cooled against congealed blood. Closer were two other bodies, still as death and stripped completely nude. These were were not clean deaths.

"Hey, I heard Koda Village is on the run."

"Hmm, a good opportunity, don't you think? Like a herd of sheep without its dogs, just waiting for a pack of wolves to pounce."

"Do we even have enough men?"

"No problem! Plenty of stragglers from that Alnus garbage to recruit! Who wouldn't want in for some easy loot and pussy?!"

"Hmm, maybe we could even kick the local lord out, enslave the rest, then take over!" The largest man among them laughed. "From a bandit leader to a lord! That doesn't sound too bad at all! Should I knight you all then?!"

They jeered and cheered, hoisting dirty cups as they saluted their erstwhile leader. Their roar of laughter was cut short, however, as one of them staggered into the firelight.

"H-here! They're here! Oh gods, the monsters are right behind!" He took uneasy steps towards them, a hand clutching a bleeding wound tightly as he babbled.

One man grabbed onto his tunic, a lazy attempt to steady him. "Whoa, whoa! Calm down! Did you slip and fall, or something? Prick yourself on a little flower, did you?"

"I can't! They're after me! They're coming for me!"

"Who, lad? Who's coming for you?"

"The red eyed monster. The blue eyed demon. They're coming!"

Rather than look concerned, they burst into mocking laughter, slapping their legs and taking deep pulls from their wineskins. "Pah! He sounds like he's had too much drink! Did you see Rory Mercury while you were pissin' down the hill too?!"

"The poor sap cut his hand too! Look at him!"

They would not believe him, not while they revelled in drunken cheer.

He would open his mouth to speak more, only to choke as a javelin pierced the back of his throat and over the tongue. A wet gurgle was his last words.

With silent, gaping maws, they stared at their dying friend. As one, they looked to where the weapon was thrown.

Barely lit by the campfire, there approached an ominous figure clad in a thick cloak and large hood, swaying with each step. As the men squinted into the darkness, finally they could see a little clearer. Their other companions, six of them left to sift through the wagon's goods, were slumped against the rocks and unmoving. Only the stranger in the cloak was there, walking towards them with a bearded axe in hand. The fog of drink cleared in an instant, washed away by growing fury.

"Who the hell is you?!" Swords and axes were drawn. It didn't matter what this bastard said. He was going to die! "All together now! Get 'em!"

They had barely taken a step when it was among them, axe sweeping low to hook one man's leg and send him head over ass. Up the axe came and down it went, splitting another's helmet and crushing the skull underneath.

One.

Snake-like arms lash out, grabbing a different axe by the haft and twisting hard. The wrist could not rotate that far, and with a cry, he relinquished his weapon, only to have it returned into his head. The axe blade buried into his temple, cleaving the jawbone and left it dangling.

Two

Two-handed overhead cut. He could not bring the blade down as a hand thrust itself between his arms, crushing his nose and snapping his head back. In his stunned state, he only noticed the world spinning around him before coming to a sudden halt, flat on his back and eyes open to the skies. His ribcage became his sword's new sheath.

Three.

The one knocked down first stumbled to his feet only to receive the a heavy fist into his temple. As he tumbled down, a second hook smashed his jaw. Groggy, punch drunk eyes failed to see the third strike that would dash his skull against jagged rock.

Four.

The last one took a step back, having just watched four others be caught in a chaotic storm of limbs and blades, naught a chance to strike back before they were felled. He dropped his weapon, to show his surrender. It was not enough.

A thin, almost needle-like knife. It lashed out. Stomach. Between the third and fourth rib. Side of the neck. Three holes to bleed. He collapsed like a stringless puppet.

Five.

And their mighty, esteemed leader, with dreams of overthrowing a young lord and taking over his land, cowered behind a rock. What could he alone do what a dozen could not? Surely, by numbers alone, they could have overwhelmed this so-called monster and ended its miserable existence. Its name rang true, a monster indeed. Six men outside the camp and five men around the fire, all dead by a single relentless creature. Slow, deliberate steps brought it closer and closer to his hiding space, as if it knew exactly where he was hiding.

As it drew closer, he could see its face.

Dear gods, its face.

Two round blood red eyes, staring at him unblinking, as if gazing into his soul and beyond. No pupils. Just a blank, almost mirror-like sheen that reflected the flickering fires. It had no mouth or nose… or perhaps, the round thing that seemed to protrude from the face was the nose. A round, grotesque mouth, open as if in eternal howl. A red-eyed monster.

A wordless warcry echoed over the dying campground, a bloodied man in gore-soaked rags and hefting a large, heavy club charging the thing with red eyes. A survivor!

It turned to face the man, bringing up a strange black object, not much bigger than his hand, and pointed it. The bandit was barely a dozen feet away when fire and thunder erupted from the thing. He choked down a scream, cowering from the terrible sound. And the bandit… just slumped forward, as if all his energy suddenly left him and allowed his body to collapse in a shameful heap before he could even get in reach.

A survivor no more.

Sucking in a breath, the remaining bandit crawled on his belly as quick as he could without kicking too much dust. Tiny rocks scraped his chest, pressed between his skin and his leather vest. His hands hurt, a nail like ripped off as he clawed into the cold dirt, but he didn't care.

Get away. Get away! Need to get away!

The campfire was behind him, dim now that they managed to put some distance between them. A dry, hacking laugh escaped him for a bit before he bit down on his tongue. Too far to ruin everything now! So close. Almost!

Almost.

Before he could get any further, a large hand clamped around his ankle and pulled.

"No! Nooooo!" He howled, clawing at the dirt like a wild, mad beast. It was to no avail, the monster's grip like a manacle crushing his ankle. Sweet escape slipped away, the light behind him growing stronger as he was dragged to the fire again. Suddenly, his ankle was free! But then he tumbled over dried bush and stone, thrown like a sack of filth towards the fire. He landed with a heavy grunt, a particularly large rock jabbing him right in the spine.

He rolled onto his belly, a desperate hand reaching out to a discarded dagger. Inches. An inch. Too far. A shoe stepped on his hand, heavy enough to stop him but not to crush the delicate bones.

He looked up, trailing up a mud-caked shoe to a dirtied brown cloak until he stared into the iridescent blue visage of the one called the blue-eyed demon. Though its face was human-like, no man had eyes that large or unnatural. Its gaze seemed to pierce right through him with the same intensity as its opposite. A dark chuckle escaped the demon's lips, mocking.

"This just isn't your lucky day." It gave him a toothy, blindingly white smile. The bloodied tip of a sword hovered near his head, a silent dare for him to move. Inhumanly strong hands gripped his shoulders, hauling him to his feet and spinning him around. The red-eyed monster had caught up and now caught him. Those same hands grabbed fistfuls of his tunic and lifted him up, armor and all. The barest tips of his toes could touch the ground. This way, he could do nothing but meet the monster's bottomless gaze.

It spoke, a terrible sound somewhere between heavy gravel and a hissing beast, guttural in its heavy words.

"You know something we seek. We will ask, and you will answer."

Notes:

Hello.

It's been a while since I've written anything, so I hope I'm not too rusty.

This is my foray into the wacky world of soldiering, politicking, and harem shenanigans. You may have noticed that things have already gone differently from canon, while other things remained the same. Fighting and wounding the fire dragon seems to be one of those "must happen" events, as it leads to other happenings and flags. And where's Rory in all this? Don't worry, she will be show up soon enough. Apostles like her are a whimsical sort, though whether or not this is a good thing is up to debate.

Anyways, I hope to see you again at the next chapter.