Rise of the Noble Spirit

Chapter 1

Mark found himself in a daze. His crumpled wreck of a car laid silently in the nearby ditch it had skidded and swerved into. Not even two hours ago he had found himself setting out on this desolate road, who would have thought that his trip would be cut short like this? Soft rays of light began to filter down and illuminate the scene as the weak winter sun rose, bringing the full extent of the damage into focus. He swore to himself, and checked his body. The airbag deflated as he moved his left arm. Swinging the door open, he tumbled out onto snow. Bones snapped, his left arm was like a twig. Broken in two, no, thirds. Weak on his only good hand, he steadied himself against the red sedan. It was here when he felt the cold winter air on his skin. Snow had started to fall as steam flowed from his flared nostrils. Tears streamed down his face as he tried to remember what had caused this to happen. Two hours ago, he was driving down this country road, now not even mere moments ago that was rudely taken from him. Crimson leaked down his chin, gashed open from being slammed against the airbag. On meek legs, he inspected the damage. Whatever he swerved away from had clipped into the bumper. But what was that thing? Branches shook in the gentle wind. Blissful snow fell onto the asphalt, uncaring to where it would land. "Where am I?" Mark voice gasped out as he looked into the treeline. Snow obscured his vision as he clutched at his torn cotton t-shirt. The cut on his chin had gotten larger, and dribbled onto the snow. Clutching his right arm, he prayed as he stumbled down the road. The cold air nipped at him as he looked back at his totaled car. His phone... his phone! Fresh footprints were retreaded over as he lumbered over to his car, and rummaged through the red sedan. "Where in the hell did I put my phone?" As he grumbled to himself, the phone couldn't be found even if he searched on the best of conditions. He sighed. "It's back home..." He swore to himself, dumbstruck to what compelled him to leave it home. Before he knew it, he was back stumbling toward whatever scant civilization was here. While the sun had brightened up the sky, that contemptible snow whited out his vision. Air burned and nipped at him as he swore, cursing the sky for bringing this blinding white to him. It picked up, a blizzard must have been rolling through these forests. Almost from pure shock, he found himself wandering into the forest. His mind burned, the only trace of his energy being truly used to motivate him forward. Forward to where? Where was here? Those questions pondered him, and his only response to the former was this. Forward to warmth. While the flakes landed on his skin, he could feel them burn and hurt. Frostbite must have started to set in. As he turned and looked back to where he had came from, he couldn't. By the time he had figured out the question to his first motivator, the sun was still obscured by the massive pillow-like clouds. Hours had passed, and as he wandered aimlessly, he found himself laying on a pile of branches. Great oak trees dotted the landscape, and branches had fallen down. He laid there, the cold taking him as he let out a tearful cry. His voice was caught in his throat as he gripped at his jeans, searching for any warmth in his body. There was none to be given. While he laid there, he could see the steam rising off of his own body. Sweat from wandering had frozen onto his skin and looked brittle. He blinked, why was steam coming from his body? The ice melted for moments as heat traveled through him. Caught in his throat was his voice, unable to say a thing as he looked around. What had cause this to happen? With a single hand, he groped at his broken, numb-to-the-world arm, and picked the ice off, and saw steam rising from it. Hot steam. Brushing the ice off of his arm, there as no frostbite. No frostbite? He touched again. The skin, by some grace of god, had been healed. By what, that remained to be seen. Pulling and ripping at his clothes, he found himself to be overwhelmed by the heat that flowed through him. Now, if this was any other time, when a man felt the need to remove his clothes, he would have died even quicker. Late state hypothermia causes the mind to wander, to panic like an animal and to remove the clothes. It wasn't the case here. That burning energy coursed through his veins, the bones snapped back into place as he let out a quiet whimper. Curled up in a ball, he shivered, not because of the cold. The cold was gone at this point. But his internal temperature, it kept rising and rising. Sweat caked his body, rolling down his skin onto the branches. Footsteps echoed through the forest, two sets of them. All he could do was mutter as he realized that an animal might have been found his trail. But Mark wasn't a hunter, nor did he wander the trails. He was in fact, a college dropout traveling away from home to live up in the boonies. Rent was cheap, and his friend... he drew a blank on his name. Friend? What friend would let him lay here in the middle of a forest to die? As soon as he thought that, he closed his eyes and cried. "No. This is my fault." Mark said. "Right, it is your fault." A feminine voice could be heard. Mark snapped his head up, and only saw the trees around him. "Who said that?" Scrambling to his feet, he stabilized against a tree and tried to keep his eye out on the treeline. "Ohoho, I've been watching you from afar, struggling whelp." That damn woman's voice echoed throughout the area. Before he could even attempt to make a remark, her voice continued. "Look at you, all warmed up. If it wasn't for me, you would be dead miles back. Be grateful that someone like me had come into your pathetic life and saved you. What, are you scared?" Her voice was predatory, that of a wolf... no, a lion about to get a kill. "No... You're a wendigo aren't you?" Mark said. His eyes scanned around the trees, the snowfall had stopped but nothing was in front of him. That's when he looked up. Dread had washed over him as he saw whoever was talking to him. She was a woman, her long legs draped across the oak tree branch as she looked down at him upside down. Two long obelisk black horns jutted out of opposite ends of her head. All the while her cream-like skin sparkled in the now parted rays of light. Her fair hair was blonde, with the tips being of burnt umber. The last thing he noticed before she blinked out of existence for a split second, was her eyes. Damnable eyes, burgundy red iris with black sclera. If he didn't know any better, he would have assumed that he was face to face with a beast that beckoned for his death. But she landed on the ground with a perfect flare, and without skipping a beat, cupped the now standing man by his leaking chin. "Jean!" She called out. "You forgot his chin!" She laughed as she toyed and teased with the wound. "What can I do about healers, you know? Of course you don't know, besides, here you are sleeping on a bed made for me." A bed? This was bullshit and he knew it was bullshit. But, seeing how the fear of dying of the exposed cold had left him, he figured it would be best for him to... "Hey, watch it!" Mark yelled out, a blade had taken form. Short, and serrated as she pressed it against his neck. "I don't take kindly to those who sleep in the bed of a wendigo!" She really was one? He blinked again, and felt his lips curl. "Yeah, okay wendigo-" Snow had started to pick up, and the wind burnt against his skin. Whatever heat that came from her... or whomever was gone. "As punishment, I, Mariah..." There was a pause in her voice. Caught on something, but the knife pressed against his neck gave her the courage to continue. "Will take you, pitiful lowly whelp into my care." Into your care? If a blade's edge was pressed against his neck, was it really care? But as he looked upon the woman, he found there was no real other option. Death was a choice, but if a hellish beast like her could devour him at any moment, what chance would he have if he died now. And within that split second, he just gave a short, curt nod. "If you're the one who saved me, then I might as well repay my debt to you." Mark, now honor-bound to this hellish woman, felt his skin crawl as he realized something. This woman wasn't a wendigo, nor was she someone from this world. No, in that brief moment when he felt his skin crawl, he felt as if his entire being had snapped out of existence. Being trapped in this dark void of nothingness was nothing new to Mariah. It wasn't anything new truly, she had found someone to take on the job of her assistant. Traveling through the many worlds had taken a lot out of her, her body ached as she clutched at Mark's arm. He held on tight too, not knowing if his eyes were open or close, for light didn't exist in such voids. Gripped tight against her arm, the two traveled forward, before the inky voids gave way to reality. Falling to the ground, Mark touched at his chin as he looked around the stone room. If he didn't know any better, he would have guessed from the icons of devilish beings that he was in hell. But that's not right, he wasn't dead. Was he? He looked over at the woman, brushing off her silk clothing from all the branches and twigs that lingered in the forest. "Am I in hell?" "No, poor fool. Hell had risen and this is our domain, both mortal and the damned. For I am one of the many princes and leaders of this great empire of Seven Seals. Now I will say this once, servant, that you are to call me ‘her highness', and to assist me in all the matters of courtly affairs." Courtly affairs? What Mark couldn't understand was why he was saved in the first place. "I'll get right on it." But would he? As he looked upon the many haunting faces of charred men, of men with goat-like legs that shot what appeared to be lasers out of hands. Magic, this place had magic. Bewildered, he looked at her and shook her head. "Mariah I-" Her hand slapped across his face. "I am a noble! Only those who have my title can even think of calling me by my personal name. Now leave here, the door is open and you need to get that chin healed quick." Before he left the stone chamber room, covered in paintings and symbols that were of Sanskrit-like in origin, he saw one of the lines glow, and struck him in the chest. His body burned as he stumbled out of the stone summoning hell chamber and into the well furnished halls of a modest palace. Out in front of him was Jean. Now Jean... Jean was Jean. Nobody knew where the angel was from, or why this divine being was with Mariah. Light illuminated the darkened manor, radiating straight from Jean. With a single, outstretch thumb, the winged angel pressed their thumb against Mark's gash. Healing rays dashed across his chin as he felt a kind of peace that he never felt before. A real peace. Jean kept working the magic into Mark's wound. "If you follow me," the angel's voice said, "I'll show you to your quarters." So the two traveled through the manor-palace. The many walls were dotted with the strange icons of hell. One caught Mark's eye, it hung over what appeared to be the servant's quarter. It was an imp, a nasty little creature with the skin of an overripe tomato holding a pitchfork downward. Underneath it was a sign in the Sanskrit script of "Servants' room." Looking upon all of this opulent wealth, he found himself in a trance as the angel led him into the ever expanding hallway. As he stepped and walked across the fur rug, he felt a sense of unease. "No really, this isn't hell right?" Softly muttering an incantation, Jean held a small key and pressed it against a wooden door. "This key will open any door, and it will take you to your bedroom. From now on, you are to help the countess here with any billing, title claims... and other trivial things that you might need to do." Trivial things... Trivial things like what? Being a maid? Those thoughts crossed his mind as the angel threw him his uniform. It was a black butler outfit, with a white undershirt, a black overcoat, black slacks and a pair of shoes that looked suspiciously cobbled for his feet. He didn't mind though. It beat dying in the woods, alone.

Chapter 2

Now by happenstance the angelic being existed in this world was an anomaly. How could such a being of good faith and with the abilities to heal others be in such a dire world? Jean didn't think on it much, but understood that this wasn't right. The world shouldn't have been conquered by demonic forces, yet here the world was, burned by the scars of the seventh seals. For the sake of convenience, the angel was considered a woman by most of the staff here in the manor. Hell, ironically enough, most of the demonic forces of the world considered it a massive gift to have such a noble spirit in their halls. So here she was working in her office in the manor. Lines formed outside the of it, just to get an audience with the magical healer. Sure, there were others in the bureaucratic affairs but Jean was the most popular among the poorer population that would travel just to get blessed and healed. Oh but how she lamented this fact. She should be in the poorest part of the city working with the population. But her guards would tell her over and over that if she left the manor without any protection, who knows who would try to destroy her. Angels here, especially in the providence of Luna, were a very rare sight. Very rare indeed, to the point where she might as well be considered the last of the angels that walked the land. But her heart stung as she helped a poor beggar child who waited patiently all day, skipping an entire week's worth of food just to see her. Mark sat outside this office. His hands at work marking down how much money was given. He was good at that kind of thing, the tiring bureaucratic system of marking the amount of coins were given. This was he was assigned to do, just sit here, take the coins, and allow them in. It was a rude awakening of sorts when he was forced awake by Jean and told to sit out here and be a glorified sectary, but he knew better then to complain. Now the coinage here was simple, sliver was the main form of currency that was used. Two sliver coins could buy a loaf of bread. Her services? It ranged from 50-200 sliver coins. But why did she need to be paid this money? Because angels needed to eat too. And this was how she made her keep. "Next." Mark said, pointing to his sign. The beggar child approached and placed his coin bag onto the wooden desk. He looked no older then twelve, his skin parched. White flecks of skin flaked off as Mark counted the coins. The process took no longer then ten seconds when he looked up at the child. He was short ten sliver coins. Fishing around in his pockets, he placed ten extra coins from his pocket, half of his wages, onto the table without the boy noticing. "You here to see Jean?" The boy nodded. What a poor child, mute. His hair was long, lightened by the sun so it was obviously a brunette. Those white flecks must have been some long running disease, because the child was one of the many that had such afflictions to him. Just as another man left the angel, the boy went inside the cramped, closet like room. That's when he saw her. Her form as a doctor looked motherly. Fair white hair went down her back, with a hime cut that slightly covered her eyes. That robe of hers flowed in the gentle breeze that was in this cramp place. There was no halo, but her wings had bulged in the back of her dress. Her legs were long and covered in a fine silk stocking that rode up her thighs. She was a miracle worker, but damn she looked like a whore. Demonic taint had spread throughout the boy's body. The taint of the world had taken it's toll on the humans that lived here. Seeing that it was them that had managed to lose the great fight against the first Demon Kaiser, they were given a consolatory prize of sorts, the gift of the demonic ways. Most die when confronted with the corruptible taint, their skins would slough off and they would become mindless thralls that worked the fields. First, the victim skin would become ashen, whiter then a ghost, before the skin would flake off. If they survived the flaking, then they would be well on their way to becoming a lowest of the low demon, a miserable ghoul that can now survive these rough times. So here it was that Jean healed the poor boy from this taint. Her healing skills, and her magic for the most part, was able to cleanse the body of the taint, but at a price. No not through coin but in his soul, he would have to either keep coming here to be cleansed of this corruption, or to die of it. Poor child must have been going here for years, begging just for the price of being cleansed of this filth. Mark kept looking on at the boy as he left the room, his skin lost the ashen splotches that dotted his skin. He didn't weep for the child, because he knew nothing of what had happened to this world. Only that the corruption had existed and destroyed the wills of many people. Another customer came up, plopped his sack of coins and went inside. 2 golden coins were inside, and gave off a dull light. What the man's ailment was, Mark wasn't certain of. There wasn't any sign of corruption, but he knew better then to ask questions. After a moment, the non-descript man left with a red bottle. "Heh. Now I can finally stop coming here every week." The man said. Mark got a good look at him, seeing his withered, scared up face. His head was bald, and one of his ears were clipped off. His stink of necrotic flesh wafted into Mark's nose. The smalls of his back started to decay, and could be seen through the tight fabric. How did he manage to get by without smelling like hell? Such a question wouldn't be answered, but he noticed and the line of people coughed and hacked, that mute child even threw up. Calm as ever, and pinching his nose, he escorted the rotting-back-man out of the chambers and called for a guard. Jean stepped out of the chamber and with a wave of her hand, caused the great decayed flesh smell to disappear into the ether. "I don't even know how he managed to get back in here." She glared at Mark as she said that. "But I suppose since your new here that you could learn something." Her voice was clear, filled with an emotional dread as she explained. He was one of the few people that weren't allowed to be in the clinic, or even in the manor. Orders from Mariah herself. Why? Because he had tried to usurper the throne, and she had marked him with the stench of rot. He already became a demonic entity of sorts, but his fleshly suit that he wore would rot. That stink of his rot caused him to come into the clinic every day, he would even pay for the highest amount of treatment, but no amount of treatment would get his way. "It's such a shame I have to heal him, maybe this new growth on his skin will make sure he caught the message." Jean coldly eyed Mark. "Just make sure you don't tell Mariah about this little incident." Mark nodded and helped the poor boy up from the ground. His legs were weak as the two walked out. As the two walked out, Mariah shot a dirty look. "Did you allow that rotting corpse into Jean's office again?" Stonefaced, Mark gave a curt nod. "I did." "Why?" "Because he paid and asked for help, I don't know what the problem is-" Mariah slapped him across the face. "That problem is that you allowed my rival to get healed! At least this time all that skin he had will slough off like nothing. Bastard is trying to corrupt the population here into following him." She cupped his chin as she continued. "Let me remind you of this, I'm the one that saved you from the frozen pits of whatever plane you are from. If he gets in charge, you can kiss your job security good bye, and you kiss your life away too." What did she mean by that? "My life?" She gave a ghastly grin, "Oh? You didn't realize this? This is your first day on the job and you now realized that your bound to me?" She never said anything about being bounded to her. All she did was drag him from the frozen cold. "Since I can't trust you on this... Dammit I need to hire new people. Boy, yes you." She got on her knees, the blonde hair flowed down as she grabbed the mute's cheeks. "You come here every week, yet your corruption still continues to fester. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you might actually be one of the few that could become someone like me." He said nothing. "If you work for me, I'll make sure you'll get your treatments." The boy's eyes widened. With an excited nod, he looked up at the man and gave a look of despair. Almost as if she read his thoughts, she gave a cute laugh. "Ohoho... No he can still work here. What a compassionate child." Leading Mark by the hand, the two walked off in the hallways. He understood only one thing in this manor, with all of it's wooden furnishings, was that it was understaffed for the work she needed. "Her highness, correct me if I'm wrong but, don't you have other staffers?" She looked at him. "That's why I'm having you do this." "Do what?" "You know, recruiting people. So here," she led him through one of the empty antechambers, where in the past, it was used as a court of sorts. Right in the far end of the room, was a table of sorts. Not a bench, but just a table. A wooden table. Was this a joke? Where was the budget for any of the furniture? "You'll be sitting right behind there, and candidates will be coming in." "Putting a lot of trust into someone you just met." She laughed and gripped his throat. "Well I'm just putting my faith into someone who's deadly aware of the circumstances that got them into this place. All I'm asking is that you do your job and help me find some new blood for my offices." "Why are you understaffed in the first place?" That slight pause when he said that, and the tightened grip around his neck punctuated an idea in his head. Did she just take control of the city by herself? It would make sense, but now that begs the question, how did she do that? With a throw, Mark tumbled to the ground and let out a yell. "Your job today, from this point forward is to judge the talents of people. Understood, now stop asking how I got into power, it... delegitimizes the support I still have for the people here." So she did get into power as a tyrant. "When did you-" He stopped himself. If he knew any better, he'd argue she just got into power this week, and he was just one of the random people she pulled from a plane she happened to be traveling in. "Nevermind. What are you looking for then?" She paused for a moment, her black horns glistened in the light as she looked at him. "Listen, anyone that comes into that room as far as I'm concern can join in my government." He questioned himself, why did I have to be saved by a fresh face, new in charge noblewoman? But then as he looked at his arm, he stopped questioning it. He was saved by her, and by god he would have to put up with this too. "Can you at least tell me how you got into power?" Mariah stared at him and let out a cute laugh. "Why, so you can take over this county too?" "No, I'm being serious, how did you even get in charge of this land?" "Inheritance, since no one wants to work with a noblewoman who owns land, they left. What fools they are, don't they know I'm directly related to the Kaiser? Whatever. That man who left the building with all those rotting \marks was my father's accountant and master of the house. And he abandoned me." Tears rolled down her cheek. "But I'm glad I found someone who is willing to help me fill the positions that I have left, my steward." Great, now he was given a title too.

Chapter 3

Two gorgeous women entered the massive hall some three hours later. Both of them holding each other like lovers would. One woman, the taller and more lean of the bunch stood, her chest more pronounced then what would seen normal in this world, with a harden expression. A small scar was on her nose. Long flowing black hair flowed. Her leather armor was a blackened brown, with the many straps holding it together. While on her back was a massive blade. This was Marie. The other woman, who by happenstance was smaller and more motherly, had her hair done in a bow that reached the smalls of her back. Around her body were vials and flasks, decorating her skin like it was nothing. Only her neck was and head was exposed as the overwhelming robes covered her body. This was Estelle. What was odd was her ears, pointed. Pointed ears like an elf. Human and elves existed in harmony, due to the wrath of the demon-Kaiser controlling the world, many such couples would appear. The two women happened to be in love, and the society at large, made up of Demons, couldn't care less. Progressive in some respect, but was it truly progressive to live under the boots of demons who cared little for the affairs of mortals? The two women made their way over to Mark, who's eyes were glued to the two women. While they held hands together, the buxom brunette spoke. "Are you Mark?" "Yes, I am." Mark said, nodding. "Well, my partner and I were just hired by your boss, Mariah. She told us to come here and have our abilities judged. And looking at how cute you are, I think there might be a little bonus." Marie said. The two women gave their names, both giving a bow to their supposed leader. Directly down the pipeline were these two buxom women. But instead of just accepting them on the spot, he motioned his hands. In the massive gym, there was old training equipment, massive straw-like dolls that could be held up. With some ease, Mark was able to set one up and place it in the middle of the grand hall. So Marie stood and with the quickness of a cat, her blade was revealed and swung at the massive straw-doll. The metallic blade glinted as it slashed through like it was butter. "That's... That's pretty powerful." Due to that one swing alone, Mark was sold on Marie. He watched as her short armor rode up her body, and blinked as Estelle put her hand on his. "She is cute, isn't she?" Estelle eyes turned dark as her blue eyes became red. "Potions dear, I have the ability to craft any potion." "How will that help with the affairs of the state?" Mark asked. "Simple, because of my ability to create these potions I have managed to bring along someone as a... pet of sorts." In came a wizened old crone of a man. His beard down to his chin. Not knowing any better, Mark looked at the man and back at Estelle. "Who is he?" "My pet." Mark looked confused. "Does he have a name?" "Maybe, I couldn't tell you. I did summon him though, through potions of course. Honestly it's pretty simple if you have all the right ingredients for it." She gave a cute wink. "Besides, I'm only here to act as a manager for my client and darling over there." Taken aback, Mark looked at the wizened crone and tried to reason what had happened to him, why did he look so wise and old. Was he a creature created by her hands, or was it just a poor fool that got in her way. He leaned toward the latter, and looked at her with some disgust. "I can't believe you would take someone and turn him into a slave." "Slave? Well that's just not true. What I gave to that man is a new lease on life, he was a poor old man, and now he's wise enough to understand the intimacy of government. Again, through my potions~. It rattled his mind to think that this man would have become such a slave, but with her words, Mark felt some sense of ease. That he was okay despite his circumstance. "Then what about you? What do you bring to the table?" Mark asked as he looked into Estelle eyes. "You ask me this, yet you can clearly see the fruits of my work in front of you. Are you blind or something? No matter, we were already promised jobs by your boss." "But that's the issue, what position can you really fill?" She chuckled. "Oh sweetie, I was hired to be an advisor and chief medicine maker. If you want, I could give you one of my potions and see how you fair against my lover~." Her chest pressed against Mark's as she whispered in her ears. "Maybe if you win, you can have a chance to be in a warm bed with the two of us~." Here the situation lied, Mark knew better then to accept such an offer, but such an offer shouldn't be passed up. Even though he saw the woman cleave through the straw like it was nothing, he knew in his heart the he should at least make an attempt. If anything else, it would show some bravado. A single swing from her sword knocked the wind straight out of him, the blade had cut him, but with a deftness the potion seller came over and squatted to look him in the eyes. "Well, it looks like you lost and with all that blood coming out, I'd say you should take one of my potions~." Mark sneered and with some pride left in him tried to stand on his own two feet. Marie was obviously holding back. "Babe, don't try to make him into a thrall too..." Marie said. "Eh?" Mark stared at Marie, but before he knew it, a potion slid into his hand. "Drink, please." "If you make me into a thrall-" "I won't." Estelle said. Her voice cold to him. "Stop worrying so much, besides you're bleeding all over the place." He looked down to see the massive tear that formed across his stomach. He stared at the red liquid that dripped down his throat. Within an instant, the wounds healed as he drank and drank the liquid. It tasted oddly of cherry. Wondering if this was her doing, he was about to open his mouth, but found himself unable too. But he touched his skin, and felt a scar form across his body. His thoughts raced as he tried to communicate to the woman. "Oh, you lost your voice?" Estelle squatted down, and gripped at his chin. "If you want to be able to speak, just let me do this to you." Without saying another word, she kissed him. Her tongue snaked down into his mouth, and within a quick moment he found himself able to talk, and tried to speak. "Thank you..." He coughed and stood. Touching at his fleshy skin, he managed to get back to his feet without any problem, and looked at the two women. The wizened old man watched and clapped. "Good show, good show." His voice cracked as he approached Mark. Now as he looked at the man, he inspected and gave him a look at his mole-spot on his chin. He looked older, he was an oddity among the world, seeing how most people wouldn't age past 50. But he had the appearance of someone who was older then anyone he had ever seen. Even in his past life, someone this old would have been in a nursing home, but he blinked and remembered that this was a new world. A world that had fallen. "What's your name?" "Me? Well wage-master, I am John von Eros. Call me John, though." The two shook hands and managed to look at each other, understanding that they would be working together. "Well John. I suppose you'll have to do." He shrugged as Mariah entered the massive gym. Both women and John bowed, while Mark looked at the demonic women. Right behind her was the mute child, or rather, the mute child if he had grown. His skin was pale and bruised as his tall, gaunt-like as he sneered and looked at the surrounding people. Mark could tell, he knew something was odd. Mariah eyes were blue, changed from the original red, and looked almost in a glaze. The giant man pushed her to the side. And with a giant horse-cutting blade that manifested in his hand and held it tight. "You, cross-planes walker, why did you come here." Mark was in a shock. What had happened before hand? -- Ten minutes earlier, Mariah had led the two women around the manor, and noticed that the boy was sitting around. "I know Mark put you here, and I'm glad about that, but you'll have to go." Mariah spoke sweetly to the boy. In her hands were a small amount of coins for wages. But as the boy looked at her, Jean walked out and cupped at the boy's head. "Mariah, this boy isn't right." Jean concentrated as she tried to use her magic to heal him, but almost with the deftness of a lion, slashed up with his hand and shoved her back. Because of how weak she was, she was knocked to the ground. On the ground, the original boy laid there, passed out, while the tall gaunt man now stood, his form exposed. He appeared as though the boy had been aged. There was no line, which meant that nobody was truly guarding it. And because no one was truly paying attention, the boy was knocked unconscious by him. So Mariah stared at the man, and almost wept. "You must be one of the agents from-" The demon-Kaiser envoy brushed the dirt off of him, and his massive halberd-horse killer and pushed Mariah to the side. "Where's the planeswalker?" "Planeswalker, we don't have anyone like that." "You lie! Don't lie to me, owner of Luna!" He pressed the blade against the woman's neck. Leading him through the manor, she tried to distract him for the last ten minutes by making sure he wouldn't find him. Because Mark was someone who was outside of the world, he could in theory collect the powers of the demonic forces. But because he was so weak, he wouldn't have any chance to do anything to defeat him. That's what the Kaiser envoy thought. Barging through the massive wooden doors, he saw the quiet leather-bound woman with a sword, and the thick brown hair elf who held potions on her body. His eyes scanned the room, and at the far end, he found Mark. Mark turned around to see him. He asked again. His massive blade that manifested in the air looked ready to slay anything in the room. But Marie was quick, and by the time he started to swing, the blades were parried. Marie didn't buckle as the two clashed blades. Watching the two fight, Mark had found himself grabbing for something, anything at all. Throwing him a potion, even Estelle understood that he wanted to get into the fight, and she had the perfect weapon. He downed the potion and within the moment was able to manifest a short blade from the ether. It was a potion-spell, a drinkable sliver liquid that combined a scroll with whatever natural ingredients she used. It was a secret of sorts, but truly she had this ability to recall objects by drinking potions, what else could be achieved? He felt an overwhelming energy flow through him as Marie and the envoy clashed. Mariah called out to Mark, "If you kill him, you'll be a target for the damn Kaiser!" But he ignored her, and joined the fray. He had not real experience, but seeing how he was distracted, a slash behind the gaunt man's knee caused him to crumble. So unaware that Mark was there, when the blade slashed him, he fell back, screaming. "Ah! Don't kill me!" Marie said nothing, and swung her massive sword into his body. Blood squirted out as his body was split in two, cleaved. Marie and Mark looked at each other and nodded, agreeing that what they did was right, and a certain urge filled Mark. Energy from the hellish demon flowed right into him, and his right arm became pale and covered in skin-flakes. Mariah looked in desperation as she swore. "What's wrong?" "You know why you shouldn't have killed him right? Now you'll be a target for the Demon-Kaiser men!" Mark put his hand on Mariah, and held her tight. "Listen, nothing bad is going to happen to me. I'll promise you that much, okay?"

Chapter 4

Body drenched in sweat, Mark woke up in his cramp room he found himself living in. It had been a week since the incident in the gym, and his reward for killing the envoy was people scowled and saw him with mistrust. Ignoring those thoughts of mistrust and fear, he put on some slacks and his work shirt and entered the hallway. Standing in front of the three new members of the government and the man in charge of giving was Jean. She could see the mark that burned into Mark's arm and grabbed it tightly before saying anything to the group. "Can't believe you get corrupted the first week you even manage to get here. I don't even know how you managed to be saved by our highness." Mark listen, not at all excited for the new task of work. "Marie, I heard that you were good at weapons training, I would like that to be proven here today. Go take the planeswalker out into the courtyard and teach him how to use a blade." Disappointed marked both Marie and Mark's face. Marie wasn't that bad of a swordswoman, hell she was able to cleave the pale-skin demon envoy with ease, why shouldn't she be able to teach him how to use a sword. "John and Estelle, you two are to head out toward River Plaza, Mariah is planning on taking the village but we need the proper documents to prove that our claim is real." The wizened crone nodded and taking Estelle hand, the two left toward the village called River Plaza. Reason it was called River Plaza was because a tributary snaked across the village, which provided the irrigation water for the crops to be grown. It was small, barely 200 people living in the village and the surrounding farmland. Short stocky houses dotted the village proper but in the middle of it, between two rivers was the mini-fort that acted as a garrison for the local elected noble. If Mariah were to take the village, it would be seen as a boost to her ego, and an expansion of the plot of land she now had. So of course she would send the old coot down there, and under the watchful eye of Estelle, he should be able to find something in no time. In the meantime, Mark and Marie had both managed to make it out into the courtyard. Middle of the courtyard was a massive fountain, that water burbled out of. The sky was a hazy blue, clouds dotted the sky. Small pathways dotted the area, making a cross-section with grass filling out the remainder of the area. So they stood on the grass, Marie with her massive sword, not saying much to Mark. And Mark put his hands in his pockets, trying to take in the little heat they had. It was freezing cold to him, well anything that wasn't 80 degrees was cold to Mark. "Well, what do you have to show me?" Mark asked. "I'll teach you how to swing a sword, you still have yours from last week right?" Blinking, Mark realized that the small sword was still in his inventory, a great pocket dimension that was created by Estelle magical potion. It was odd, for a split moment he managed to realize this, and his sword appeared within seconds. "You'll get used to the pocket-dimension storage." Marie chuckled. Mark said nothing, and gripped the blade tight. "No really, it's honestly really convenient! All you have to do is reach out and think about the object that you summoned, and it will appear in your hand. It's how I keep my potions." Still saying nothing, Mark gripped the blade tight as Marie managed to pull a potion from the air. "Each potion can be stored into itself too, here." She threw him a bottle of red liquid. -- While the two were busy not-training and learning about the mystical pocket dimensions, the duo managed to make it to the village proper. The crone of a man looked about and chuckled to himself. "Child's play. I think today we'll be just checking into the inn." Estelle said nothing, she was just the supplier and nurse to John. She understood that her pet would need to be fed her potions, and as they walked around the river-plains, she realized she was going to need to make more potions for him. His bones cracked and popped, the long walk from out of the city proper and out toward the village took a lot out of him. But he didn't show it. But Estelle had first hand knowledge in front of her, she could tell he needed to rest. So as they passed by the many wooden buildings with their thatched roofs. Many of the people looked at duo, seeing it kind of perverse that this old man, his nose so drooped and low that it seemed almost comical, and this buxom, young elf. Many of the mutterings in the village was "Elf from whore Palace" and Estelle paid them no mind. John explained a bit of his plan, to investigate the local fort tomorrow and to rest here for the night. It seemed simple, but to pose as a husband and wife seemed off to her. But she supposed that her pet had his immoral thoughts, she supposed it was weird to even summon someone like him so easily. "Speaking of which, we need to collect some Rose Water here, I heard it's to die for~" So the two took some time to gather some supplies near one of the houses. It's roof was especially thatched. Only taking mere moments, she scooped down and grinded some rose pedals with her summoned mortar and pestle. Grinding the rose into a fine paste, she then collected the water and combined the two. John looked on, almost impressed by the whole scene of it. Only for an arrow to strike him in the chest. An arrow? Estelle looked up, and saw off in the distance, on the fortification wall, a man had strung his bow up and was ready to fire upon her. She panicked as she grabbed at the air, and the health potion she just created landed in her hand. John gasped and sputtered, blood leaking from his mouth as the arrow had pierced his skin. Cradling the old man's head, she gave him the newly created potion. Coughing even louder, he managed to pull the arrow out of his body and stood. "Thanks, honey." He said, his voice now cold. He casted his hand out and lightning came out, the long bolt struck at the man and caused wall to give way. Estelle looked on in a panic as she saw knights traveling out, most of them human while one, with his giant armor rode forward. "Oho! I guess Mariah is sending someone to kill me, eh!" The large, imposing red-skin demon spoke. Luke Chains controlled this small village, it was his to keep. He rode out with his men, carrying a massive blade. His skin exposed to the air, now free of any human corruption. The wizard minister said nothing as Estelle was pushed back by his hand. "Head toward the inn, I'll hold them off!" John yelled out as Estelle looked on in horror. He shot out another bolt of lightning, blowing off a horse's hoof with the mighty blow. Estelle cried out. His body started to decay faster in front of him, and since she was out of any real potions, she panicked. By the time she had fled toward one of the inns, she could see his body become impaled on the great cleaver that he held.

Chapter 5

It became dark outside, and the courtyard was bathed in the moonlight while Mark and Marie traded swings at one another. Marie obviously was better, it was certain, she had been swinging that massive hunk of metal for years. With all that training she had been given, and trying to pass down to Mark, it would be fair to say that she was overpowering him with her strength. But Mark didn't falter, he took each blow, each massive sword blow toward him was parried, unsuccessfully parried, but would still stand his ground. Marie was impressed by this. "How are you still able to stand?" "I don't know, if I had to guess, it's probably because of the demon's soul I consumed." "If what you say is true, then I hope you'll be able to defeat the demons that rule this world." She said. While the moon hung overhead, Mariah stormed out from one of the doors approached. She appeared peeved as she stopped the two from fighting. "I got terrible news. Estelle has been captured by that damn Luke Chains. He was the regent here, and left after I became of age and took the village that exists outside of the city Luna. I want that village back, it was my father's. You two, go down there and get Estelle back, I won't have one of my own captured by such a cruel man." Mariah said, her voice filled with anger. Mark asked, "Was there no ransom?" "Of course not, and I wouldn't ransom her back anyhow. That's why I'm sending you two in to collect her back." Marie let out a heavy sigh, and hefted her blade up, and was ready to walk out into the city. Mark followed her. Her heart beated as they walked out into the desolate streets of Luna, the many taverns that dotted the main-street, the many small streets were filled with opulent stores. As they walked around, beggars walked the streets too, with guards pushing them out into the second sector of the city. So they walked through, and saw the great walls that split off the rich sector of the city with the poor section. This was where the many folks, the corrupted beings of demonic taint lived. Beggars roamed the streets, their faces disfigured by the growing ashen taint that ruined their skin. It was surreal to see, the people walked aimlessly, ignoring both Mark and Marie. But they managed to walk through the city gate, it was uneventful, their minds were more focused on how to defeat the demon that controlled the village down in the south. The village of River Plaza laid ahead. They walked on the cobblestone roads during the night, and by dawn, they managed to make it into the small village. Water splashed as the two looked around. Villagers came out, ignoring them as if business was usual. But was it truly business as usual? But as they walked across the fields and saw the rise of smoke from the fortress walls, and while he admired, Marie could tell this was the old man's doing. Marie stumbled through toward the rough patch of grass, and the blood splatter on the ground made her grumble inside. As the two stood outside the fortress, knights trotted out. Their lances in hand as the group approached and gave Marie a catcall. "Hot damn, I can't believe a swordswoman is even here." Mark looked at them and quipped, "You know them?" "Former boss." She pointed at the fortress. "Then why did you join with Mariah?" Mark asked. Not caring that he was in front of her rival's retainers. One of the lancers pulled out their swords and dismounted from his horse. The other horsemen snarled and looked at the two. "I can't believe you would be so stupid to reveal who you work for!" The dismounted knight said. Two of the knights rode off back to the fortress, while the knight swung his sword at Mark. The blade cut through his body, slashed at the chest. He stumbled as the knight looked ready to kill him, when Marie knocked him to the side with her sword. Mark still stood as he saw the other two horsemen riding off and realized they would attempt to get help. So Marie chased after them, while Mark dealt with the dazed man. By dealt with, it was more he failed to hit the dazed man, giving him enough time to wake up from his daze and pull out his sword. His cheek was bruised, and showed signs of a concussion. Riding off on the knight's steed, Marie chased after them, swinging her massive sword around, missing them as they approached the gate. It rose, and the two knights started to enter when she chopped one horseman in half. His armor dented as it couldn't protect him, and he went flying to the ground. Comrade-in-arm was forced to turn, standing outside the fortress walls. The gates still opened as he saw the brutal sight. With the deftness of hands, she swung again, crashing the blade through his horse, knocking him flying into the air. "Damn you, swordsman of hell!" The knight yelled. His body crashed into the wall. Just as that happened, Mark swung his short-sword into the man's body. The blood squirting out as Mark clutched at his own chest. Blood seeped out as he tried to walk toward the fortress. Marie spotted him, and rode back to pick him up. Hefted onto the horse, Mark held onto Marie, her hair flowing in the wind as she rode through the fortress gates. The massive courtyard was impressive, to the north lied a tower that overlooked the place, while buildings to east were squarish and squattish. A barracks of sorts. Many soldiers were training, looking on in horror as Marie got off her horse, and Mark tumbled to the ground. What in the fresh hell are these beings, was the line of thought that crossed through the soldiers minds. "Where's the elf?!" Marie barked. It hadn't been even a day, and they already arrived to take her? The soldiers looked at the weakened man next to her, blood seeping from his cloth clothes. "Look at him, he can't even stand." One soldier said. Mark ignored their jeers, while Marie stepped forward and slammed the blade through the crowd, many were slain by the massive impact as the soldiers took their arms. Swords and spears were wielded in the vain attempt to stop this rampaging warrior. But with a clash of blades, Marie overwhelmed them. Mark looked around the base, where the hell was she? He heard her voice off in the distance, through a grate underneath the dusty boards. "Help me help me!" Estelle cried out. In the background Marie was breaking spears and swords. The pile of gore formed, the swordswoman was having an easy time with this. Mark held onto the sword as he stumbled through one of the open doors, the fortress-tower held the elf. As Mark looked around, he could see that the tables were upturned, a fight must have broken out. While the door that led toward the basement was locked. As he searched for a key, he could hear Estelle rattle her chains, forcing him to search harder. Footsteps sounded and a pale demon jumped through the wooden door, shattering it. Whatever need for a key was gone. His face was freakish and his black hair flowed down to his back. Huge claws slashed through the air, but Mark reached up with his sword. The clattering of the sword ringed out as Mark held his own. So the two stood, slashing and battering. The finger-like blades clattered against him as the black hair demon chuckled. "Fool, if you're searching for Luke Chains, then you'll be disappointed. For he has already marched on your city!" Mark scowled. This demon must have been lying. With a step forward he slashed, but the demon dodged at the last second. His face mirthful. The hands clattered against Mark as he lunged himself at the demon, shattering the sinew-like hands and jabbing the blade into the demon's neck. Black ooze poured out as he felt himself empowered even more. The corruption started to fester into his arm as he stumbled down the stairs. His chest still bleeding as he spied upon Estelle, trapped in a metal cage. Her robes tattered as a chain connected to her neck. Mark kicked open the cell door, and grabbing at the chain, he felt the demonic blood flow through him and rip the chains clean off. Estelle looked at him, almost gasping as she managed to stand. "My supplies are here." She said, her face blushing as her brown hair had trestles, strands also poking out. So she stood, and grabbed the many salves and potions. He healed himself, using one of the potions that was stored in his pocket dimension, and downed the entire bottle. The wound on his chest healed as he touched the now scarred remain. "How were you even able to defeat that demon?" Estelle asked. Her voice breathy. "It was like, I felt the power of hell rage through me, and I stabbed him!" Mark was ecstatic as he help lead her out of the room. The demon still laid dead.

Chapter 6

Fires spread throughout the manor, while soldiers in crimson armor laid waste to the massive doors. Their torches licked and scorched as the guards laid dead all around. Those who didn't oppose the Demon Kaiser soldiers were spared, told to join in the bloodshed. Their armors glinted as these men swarmed through, guards not knowing to lay arms, knowing that this is a just capture or to fight and die for their mistress. "To arms men!" One of the red-armored men bellowed out. The air tasted of embers as from the inside, the sounds of the many butlers and maids were fleeing to the back. Even in the midst of such a crisis, the demons that spotted them slashed with their long, crude blades. With a loud thud, portions of the door were shattered off, revealing the inside, the grand wood and marble walls and tiling. A torch was thrown and ignited the flammable wood. "We'll drive out the world interloper and bring her head on a pike!" The imposing Luke Chains held his sword high in the air. When he visited the manor just a short couple of days ago, he had found himself investigating the reports that a planeswalker had arrived at his former master's manor. When he spied Mark, he knew that he didn't belong to this world, and knew that Mariah had royally fumbled on her decision. What drove Luke Chains mad was that Mariah would even consider it as an action, to just steal another human from a far-flung plane. For what? For what purpose did he even have? His two massive chains that wrapped around his fists slammed through the walls. "Mariah! I'm coming for you!" Luke barked out! His long pale hair flowed as his men entered long hallway that led to the golden throne room. While he swung his chains, clattering against the tapestry as one of the chains ignited into a great fireball. The whip-like motion caused another fireball to smash out, shattering the imp picture that held over the servants corridor. "Aha, in here!" He yelled, seeing the strains of hair that flowed out. Bashing his way through, he could see Mariah and Jean holding each other, fleeing through the servant corridor. Throwing one chain at her, the flame-rippled chains clattered and wrapped around Mariah leg. The heat burned as she kicked at the chain. Jean turned around and shot a bolt of blinding holy light at Luke Chain. As Mariah watched in horror, Jean fired more of her holy bolts into Luke Chains, causing him to stumble back. Her hands worked at the massive chains that wrapped around Mariah leg. "Your highness, close your eyes for a moment." With a quick rabbit punch, Jean knocked Mariah out. Having her knocked out would ease the pain as Jean pulled out her holy blade and slashed at her leg. The metal melted, and Luke Chains stumbled back. Mariah picked up her friend, her holy healing had scarred her mistress's leg, charring a portion of the skin with blinding light. Within moments Jean pulled Mariah up, holding her tight as she traveled through the corridor, while Luke Chains was blinded by the pure light, not able to see them escape. -- Carrying her on her winged back, Jean traveled through the city. Through the narrow corridors and now burning buildings of a besieged land, she rushed through it. Wooden embers flew through the sky, burning at the air as she turned to see the manor burned to the ground. A sign of things to come? She wasn't sure, but knowing that Mariah home was torched, she found herself painfully aware that her mistress had made a mistake. Mariah didn't stir, but her hot breath was on Jean's back. As Jean ran through the many streets, she could see her former guards patrol, looking for the two of them. While that was happening, Luke Chains stood outside the burned remains of the manor, with a grin on his face. "I can't believe I did it, and it was all thanks to her making the mistake of bringing planeswalker into our world." One of the demonic lackey asked him, "what's the big deal if someone was from another plane of existence?" "If he's from another dimension, that means he has the ability to get stronger. Look at humanity here, look at how they toil and suffer. Only those with innate talents survive in this world, or those who come here from a different plane of existence. I'm not sure why she would bring him to our world, but I know for a fact that if he's still alive, that he is a threat to the demon kaiser and to our way of life." Luke Chains said clearly. "And we need to kill Mariah because...?" "Because Mariah just damned us all, bringing a planeswalker here is a crime that is punishable by death, don't you know?" "Right but..." The lackey motioned to the burnt manor. "Was this necessary? Where are you going to be staying?" "Manors burn all the time, they'll be repaired soon enough. Enough talk, go get a messenger and try to inform him that we've recaptured Luna and we're sending forces to find the traitor." He waved his hand, seeing him off. The lackey ran off toward the city gates, himself trying to flee. All while this was happening, Jean was in the waterways, her magical light shinning through as they managed to get to a grate that led to the grotto. With a wave of her hand, the rusted metal bars snapped and gave way as Jean leaped down into the cold water. Former guards of the manor gave chase, following them with torches in hand as they found the burnt hole in the grate. As Jean looked up, she could see one of the former allies, and a bolt of light shot out, piercing his skull. There was no reason to keep them alive, they had betrayed her mistress. "It's going to be okay mistress Mariah..." She said, adjusting her dress as she dove under the cold water and swam toward another grate. With a lash of her hand, the light cut through. By the time the smoke had settled, Mariah and Jean made it outside the city walls and out into the small lake. Mariah finally was able to wake up, her eyes widening as the two managed to make it down the river. They floated for a while, the sun beamed down on them as they reached the shore. It was here that Mark, Estelle and Marie spotted the duo near the fortress walls. Mark helped both women out of the chilly water. The small amount of demonic soldiers that lingered at the fortress were in awe of Mark strength, having slain another demon. So they looked at him to be their next leader of sorts. It was awkward for him to explain, but the powers of a planeswalker was able to be influenced by the things he killed. All that taint grew inside him, festering in his arms as he gripped the steel sword in his hand. Estelle gave potions to the two soaked women, and laughed. "I appreciate that you're coming down to see me like this!" "How can you be joking?" Jean asked. "Easy, I realized while being held here that Luke Chains is incompetent. Look, here comes one of his lackey's now." Estelle said as the lackey ran down the road, ignoring the five people standing outside the gates. Mark charged out, sword in hand as he sprinted down the way and slammed his body into the lackey's body. The imp fell to the ground, his bones cracking as he let out a hoarse scream. "Dammit! I knew we should have left more guards here!" The lackey imp said. Seeping out of his skin were bone fragments, bits of it sticking out as the imp looked up at Mark. "You better not kill me, I have important business to attend too!" The imp spoke. But seeing the imp's speed rushing down the road only incensed Mark into slaying him. With a quick blow to the imp's neck, the lackey laid dead. Corruption seeped into Mark's skin as he felt himself grow quicker. Whatever message that imp had was gone, and the knowledge of Luna falling in the hands of the Demon Kaiser would never reach them.

Chapter 7

Passing down the road were many soldiers wearing red and black armor. Why was it red and black? Why was that? For what purpose did their armor being red-tinted with a black trimming have on them? Well it was simple, the armor was enchanted for the corrupted ilk that joined this army, allowing them to take punishment. The general leading the men down the road grumbled as he rode on a pale horse down the road. His face was like chiseled marble, his chin pointed. "Is it true the city is still under siege?" He said this aloud to no one, but his companion, a younger centurion with his helmet gilded with bone ash looked up from the ground. Despite his high rank, he was treated like the lackey for the general. "The city of Luna? We haven't gotten word from Luke Chains in over three days. It's only precautionary, you know Mariah of Luna must have a trick up her sleeve if she was able to summon a planeswalker here." "Oh brother Daedalus, I know you're a lackey but you overestimate the girl. I just don't see the point in coming down." Daedalus let out a groan. "Sir, this is an order from the Kaiser himself." "I understand that. But I also understand that Luke Chains was one of the more advanced demons in the realm, and his messages are always sent in a timely manner." The head of the massive 10,000 plus army had started to reach itself into the small, sleepy village of River plaza. Runners came from the front down to the rear, spreading information to the general about their current whereabouts. "Well, we might as well enter the fortress." The general said. "Why?" "Let's see, we don't have any supplies, and if Luke Chains is dead, then shouldn't we be entitled to the fruits of his labor? Men, loot the village." Daedalus was shocked at this man's words. How did he even reach these conclusions? How shameful of him, to loot the village. But the demonic forces held no care for the normal civilians, and Daedalus was only besides himself that his reprehensible boss would do such a thing. The village was sacked. The ten thousand men had marched for the past three days with little supplies, this was only to be their only action if the general was correct in his assumptions. So the many humans of the village screamed out in horror as the chiseled general put them to the slaughter. Daedalus himself was a human, still a human. A lowly centurion and a guard to his master. While the general took a great pleasure in destroying the village, Daedalus heart grew darker. He had been a slave to him for the last 10 years, working under him. While River Plaza burned, the general had his eye on the fortress itself. His wispy gray locks flowed in the wind as he took off his helmet to see better. The haze of smoke formed as he noticed the garrison was doing nothing. "What sickening cowards! They do nothing while we destroy the very land their supposed to protect? Come with me Daedalus, we'll slay these yellow-head bastards and send them back to the rampaging hells below!" With his massive claymore sword in hand, he stormed forward through the gates by himself. He looked around, seeing that the many militiamen laid dead. He questioned, who did this? Who would do such a thing? The many corpses laid dead as he investigated. Nothing was found in the courtyard, only those who appeared dead from fright. "How could this be? Did that bastard Luke Chains kill his men and storm off?" The general grimaced. His heart beated quicker as he searched around the stone walls, trying to find any source of life. While his hands glowed, he felt the air grow stagnant, the light danced in the miasma haze of rotting flesh. "Bastards, cowardly bastards." The general coughed as his companion entered the courtyard too. "If I didn't know any better, it looks like they killed themselves." Daedalus spoke. He held no remorse for these hellish beings. "Pity." "You talk about pity like you know what it means. These men are worth more then any human left in the slaughter. Don't you forget that." His words like venom as the general huffed. "Then why would they kill themselves?" "Despair does a lot of things. Cowards." He spat at the ground. "Bunch of no good cowards. Look at their throats. Slit open without any regard for their own well being. When I'm done with this village we're going to march into Luna and put the citizens to the sword." Daedalus grew quiet. "You changed, sir." Daedalus spoke. "I changed? No, this was always my nature. I hated humanity more then any demon that exists here. The only reason you are even here is because of the pity I took upon you. And it's a shame you refuse to become a demon like me, Daedalus." What a misanthropic shit, Daedalus thought to himself. "But weren't you a human before?" "No you fool, I rejected my humanity, what happened before me was before, this is me of the now. And all I see are dead cowards that are rotting. Call for some men to get in the courtyard." "Yes sir." Daedalus let out a dejected sigh, motioning for soldiers to enter the courtyard and help burn the corpses. All while that was happening, the general entered the stone interior by himself. His bravado knew no bounds, and fear only existed as a concept that was strange, almost foreign to him. The small, rolling burning pyre for the dead was made, and the demonic kin threw their brethren into the flames. Their skin shriveled as the blaze grew higher. Daedalus searched around the fortress himself while this was happening, finding himself more suited to explore the ruins of dead men then leading an army of soldiers. But as he lamented his fate that he was a slave to a demonic general of the kaiser's army, he spotted something odd. A large sword was resting against a fountain. He attempted to heft it up, but he lacked any real strength to lift and carry such a massive blade. When he turned his head back, he could see the general walking out of the stone interior with three prisoners in tow. Three women in tow. An angelic being, the only angelic being in the area... Jean. He knew of Jean, and as he looked at her celestial form. Then he saw the elf, and warrior step out. "Oh that's where I put my sword." Marie said, but the general lifted his hand to silence her. "General, what did you find?" He said nothing, and motioned to the three women. "I can see you have Jean and two other women but why aren't you talking." The general pointed to his throat. "Ah. Jean where's your boss?" "How do you know her name?" Marie spoke up. "What do you think? She's the only angel on this cursed world is she not?" Daedalus kept his eye on the general. Darkness filled Jean's heart as she looked down at the ground. Tears formed in her eyes. Whatever hope she had in fleeing was dashed in front of her as she wordlessly pointed back to the inside. No point in putting up the charade any longer. "I see. General let's see if the disgraced princess is in here." While entering the building, Daedalus felt a knife-edge chop to the back of his head. With all that strength boiling inside his hands, the general looked down at Daedalus and finally spoke. "Can't believe that actually worked." Mark said, his face shifting from the of old general. The general laid dead, his neck cracked. "But why did you spare him?" Jean asked. "Look at him, he's the second in command of this army that's waiting outside this fortress. It's such a good fortune that an army arrived when we needed it." Mark crouched down, and motioned for Estelle to come over with her potions. "Why not have me heal him?" Jean asked. "I don't want him reviving at full strength." "How did you-" "When you healed me, I felt like the king of the world, or close to it. Neither here nor there, Estelle, if you could." Estelle bent down on her knees and administered the red liquid into the centurion's mouth. It was a chimera potion, one that could heal but at the same time one that would slow the body. Perfect for restoring damage and wanting to keep someone prisoner. His eyes wandered, looking at the crease and how fine her ass was. But he shook those thoughts out of his head, she was dating Marie, and his moral principles got the better of him. The man cough and sputtered back to the land of the living. Eyes wild, he looked across the room and saw the corpse of his dead general. A sigh of relief came over him as he attempted to move his hands. He couldn't. Tipping his head up, Mark looked down at him and chuckled. "You look knowledgeable on the world, what's a planeswalker and why am I being hunted?" "Planeswalker?" Daedalus looked at him and shook his head. "No, you can't be... Only planeswalker can obtain the powers of demons without being truly corrupted. Who are you?" "Mark, just Mark, you got a lot of questions to answer." Jean let out a hoarse sigh. "You're an idiot Mark. Why would you kill the general?" "Wouldn't you kill someone who would put an innocent village to the torch?" "Don't snipe at me- Daedalus, Former Servant of General Uerial, your boss is dead." Daedalus was too scared to speak. "I'm not going to kill you." Mark said, squatting on the ground next to him. "I promise you, on my life that I will not harm you." "But what about them?" Daedalus said, as he looked at Estelle and Marie. "I promise you that no one is going to hurt you, I just want some questions answered." "Why am I being hunted? Why is Mariah being forced out of her own home?" "Fool, the kaiser forbade anyone bringing outsiders to this world. You see, humanity here has been conquered by these devilish beings as you can quite obviously see, and the reason they want to kill you because you are an interloper. Someone who doesn't belong here. I don't know Mariah's reasoning and if I could ask her I would, but if you already got summoned here, then that means the fabric of our reality is starting to shatter. It's a sign, a sign of weakness." Stormy clouds drifted over Mariah mind as she looked at the two men chatting. "You want to know why I risked everything to bring you here?" Mariah asked. "It was because I've been watching you for years, Mark." "Years? What do you mean years? You only showed up in the freezing cold claiming to be a wendigo!" She chuckled. "I've been traveling the different planes for years now, even my former regent, that bastard Luke Chains knows how to travel too. Every demon here can travel between the planes, it's just I brought you back." "Why?" "Because Mark, you were going to die in the freezing cold, and I couldn't do that to the mortal that saved me."