Enters the Demon Merc

On the small elevation at the end of the vineyard, a lone traveler stood on his horse. A black hooded cloak covered his head and body. With sharp, golden eyes, he scanned the village below like a shepherd counting his sheep. Blunt gray hairs grew scattered throughout his chin. His palms were covered in scars that told the histories of many battles.

Lumen felt a knot in his throat as he approached the stranger. He stopped about 20 meters away from the man. The two were alone in the empty field. Only the faint rumbling of the village interrupted the moment's silence.

“Why are you here?” Lumen asked, his voice trembling with deep concern.

The traveler watched Lumen attentively. His piercing eyes narrowed, yet his rigid face seemed to relax to a certain degree.

“War always attracts the two of us, though for different reasons,” the stranger replied with a nod. “In any case, it's good to see you again so soon, old friend!”

The stranger pulled out his hood, revealing a haircut, pointy and wild, not too short and not too long. It was a mix of gray hair with some black strands still in place. Energetic as he was, he looked like he was in his 30s. But Lumen knew that the man was about twice his own age, somewhere in his early 40s.

“Edge, I…," Lumen started, not sure how to begin. He was not afraid, but he was rather troubled. “Edge, you are my most cherished friend; it is always a joy to see you. But your presence here, I feel, bears a very bad omen.”

“Is it?" Edge replied unconcerned. “For a merc like me, it’s a day's work, and Dresda’s blood money is still money. But yeah, I’m not particularly excited about today either.”

The two remained in silence for a few moments. Lumen’s head tilted forward, sad eyes fixing upon a random spot on the ground. He seemed pale. Edge looked at Lumen for a while, then looked back into the distance. There, in the village, the multitudes shuffled as they braced for the upcoming battle. Edge followed:

“Dresda's intel claims that some of them were provided with some Sticks,” Edge added. “One of their captains, a young man named Dandelion, is said to have been revealed as a Stick User. A Kynetic Stick User, to be more precise. That means he can manipulate swords and other kinds of weaponry from a short distance. It's unclear who the generous sponsor is that gave them the Sticks. But all leads point to Lord Barriton. Not that it matters now."

“I see,” replied the young mage. “With these Sticks... does that give them a chance at victory?”

“Not at all, they are as doomed as they can get. Even if they have a Stick User, Dresda has about 6 Kynetic Stick Users in his Elite Squad. That’s enough to plow down half of this Rebellion. To be fair, Dresda alone might have been able to crush this Rebellion all by himself.”

Lumen flinched. His face contorted. Edge sighed.

“I met with Dresda two days ago,” Lumen replied, wanting to change the topic.

“Yeah, so I was told,” Edge replied, looking straight into Lumen’s eyes. “Lumen, you really thought you could convince him to be a bit softer on Maugalin?”

“I… I did,” the mage replied. “But then he said a ruler needs to rule with a firm hand if he wants to command the respect of his people. But then the way he treats Maugalin, it’s horrific…”

“I agree, it’s absurd. He’s not even trying to be a leader; he’s just starving and terrorizing them, hoping to break their spirit. Maugalin so far is the only region he has treated in this way. Dresdapolis and its people are much better off since he took the throne. Even the other regions he conquered are prospering. It’s because Maugalinians are unwilling to follow his lead that he treats them like this. Still, it doesn't change the cruelty of the fact.”

“So you agree that’s not right?! Then why do you fight for him?” mumbled Lumen, looking back into Edge’s eyes for a moment. He stopped short, and his guilty eyes drifted sideways.

“I’m no saint, Lumen,” Edge replied, his mouth twisting in dissatisfaction. “I’m a paid mercenary. They call me the Demon Merc for a reason. As for you, you know very well you could save these people yourself if you wanted to. We’re both guilty, though I agree my share of blame is much greater.”

“But there’s nothing I can do…” Lumen whispered.

“Why don't you tell the peasants to surrender? Tell them Dresda has a total of 8 Stick Users on his team, including himself and me. Everyone knows by now that Sticks are a most formidable weapon. If they still decide to pursue this hard-headed rebellion, it’s on them.”

“Edge… is there any way I can convince you not to fight for Dresda?”

Edge’s lips twisted, and they stood silent for a few moments. Moments that felt like forever. Lumen could feel his breath getting harder as the expectation grew longer and longer. He saw hints of both anger and disappointment passing across his friend's face.

“No,” the merc replied.

And with that, he pulled a single Stick from his pocket. It looked like a black crystal of sorts, a thin, long rock, less than a third the size and width of a pinky finger. The color was not uniform; rather, it was like glass containing a thick, dark fog. Edge raised the Stick to his mouth and opened it just enough for the Stick to fit in. He crushed the Stick with ease between his molars and a dark fog emerged from his mouth. The fog swirled around his head and body, engulfing him.

Within seconds, nothing remained of what used to be Edge’s human body. Instead, a tall demon, about 3 m tall, with pitch-black skin stood in front of Lumen. Horns rose on top of his head, his eyes glowed like a predator’s, and bat wings spread behind his back. His hands grew thick claws, and his body grew dark scales.

A roar so loud came out of the Demon Merc’s mouth that Lumen instinctively covered his face. A roar so loud that once it finished, the entire valley fell still. The noise and shuffling from the village ended. The Demon Merc batted his wings once and rose into the sky for everyone to see, and roared again for everyone to hear.