Several days later, the first of the levied troops arrived at the gates of Ovespuerte, and was let into the castle. Some were part of their local militia, while others were [Farmhands], [Smiths] and all manner of occupational Roles that one would fulfill in a town. Only a few have the Feats that the ruling Commerros were looking for, with the rest not suitable for a battle, much less a war.
Graten Haovel did not blink at this fact. Recruitment and training, in his opinion, was the most challenging part of managing a band of [Mercenaries] because most were not [Fighters] at birth, and therefore must build their skills from the ground up and earn Feats in the process. He stood before the men and women who had been brought to the grounds of the castle, who were nervous or idle, ready to make the best of this situation.
“You have been brought here by the rulers of this place to become the new…Household Guard. I am Graten, a foreign [Mercenary Captain] who's been hired to train you for this Role. Let it be known by the gods of this land that I’ll do my job. You will earn the right to be [Fighters] at the end of the week, and if you shall gain a fighting Role, then you shall be paid.” Graten announced.
Cultrost saw the [Mercenary Captain] beginning to instruct them on exercises. He turned his gaze towards Racieros.
“Hope this is enough,” Cultrost said.
“How much do you trust him?” Racieros asked, still unsure of this arrangement.
“As much as someone who had helped us escape our homeland even if we paid him less than he deserved.”
“Still. This is fewer people than we needed.”
“The [Mercenaries] will come over, I heard. And that [Lady] from that mountain castle offered to stay with her [Knights].”
“But my mother said that the Commerros who either supported my uncle or had their agendas had either declared war or did not heed the levy.”
“Don’t you have a [King] that would stop this?”
“Father and the tutors that he hired taught me that kingship or queenship, does not necessarily mean they have authority. Their vassals are powerful too. The [Priests] too. They have their properties and armies, and their job is to keep them happy. This time, His Majesty could also watch our House war with itself so the Commerros will be less of a threat to his rule.”
“Bleak.”
“That’s what my father would think if he’s here.”
“What do you think?”
“That His Majesty will intervene, I hope. If Numisley’s–your father and mother had helped him, then…”
“Always the same everywhere, these people in power. But I can’t blame you for hoping. I feel the same way, despite everything.”
They were interrupted by [Servant] that meekly approached them, holding a letter with the seals of House Naveirei and the Mage Guild of Ovespuerte.
“Letter from Numarr Naveirei, addressed to Cultrost Gildin.”
The [Servant] disappeared as soon as he spoke, leaving the bound scroll in the Satyr’s hands. He did not need to open the letter, nor did he ask who is ‘Numarr Naveirei’ to know that his brother had finally succeeded in his goal. Nevertheless, he unfurled the scroll to read about his brother’s success.
“What do you think about that [Trader]’s deal? Can he really kill that impossibly strong [Pirate]?” Racieros asked with a noticeable trepidation in his voice.
“I have no idea. I’m still not sure. But it’s the best chance we got. He has been a decent business partner, after all.” Cultrost admitted his hesitation toward the plan that Aryyad had presented to him.
“Still. I do not trust him.”
“I’m not so naive as to trust him completely. My brother does not trust him. Once everything’s sorted, then we’ll go through the plan.”
The two walked through the corridors of the castle, and they told Racieros’ mother about the plan, which she found ridiculous and dangerous. It took some convincing by Racieros for his mother to go through with the plan, emphasizing their desperation, but she realized that this is how they could avenge their two family members. Strraina Commerro then called upon their [Servants] to summon the [Mercenaries] working under Johoon.
Now she sat upon the padded throne of the castle, the sunlight of the broken roof shining upon her while the foreign [Mercenaries] stood there instead of kneeling in her presence, without regard for their difference in status within the throne room.
“We thank you for your service in keeping the peace in our great city.” Strraina used the royal “we”, attempting to emphasize her authority over them. She tried avoiding the urge to puke, holding back the order to kill or imprison them, for she knew that she did not have enough men and women to fulfill that order without a significant amount of casualties that she couldn’t afford to have right now.
“It is with a heavy heart that I inform you that…your contract has ended.” Strraina continued after a short silence, hiding her insincerity behind polite wording. “As agreed upon by my son who had ruled in my absence, here is your severance pay.”
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A chest of gold borrowed from the bank was carried by two [Servants] and opened in front of them.
“You are all therefore dismissed. We expect your leave in five days’ time. Inform your leader about this.”
Some of the [Mercenaries] grumbled for a short while, but they left in the end, later reporting to Johoon about their dismissal.
Later that day, Cultrost and Racieros met with Aryyad in the warehouse and told of their approval of his plan. When the two went away after Cultrost took note of the goods to be sold, he ordered someone in his company to make contact with the [Assassins]. He then headed towards the guild hall of the Merchant Guild he now commanded, and placed priority orders for potions and enchanted gear.
A hooded figure appeared before him, and he knew that it was the leader of the cadre of [Assassins] that he often hires despite being unable to gleam his true identity aside from the purring tone of his voice.
“You say you have a job for our entire organization, " said the head of the [Assassins].
“Yes. I need you to kill the Silver Leg.” Aryyad said.
“It is not worth the risk.”
“That is why I shall minimize the risk. In addition to the one hundred base gold coins that I will pay right now, I will also buy potions and enchanted gear for the rest of your [Assassins]. I will also attempt a request for a summoned creature that would keep him occupied during the fight, and muster my [Mercenaries] to keep his [Marines] occupied.”
“At any other time, I would decline this request. However, this will be a boon to my reputation among [Assassins] when I slay this Famed individual. Before I accept, I would have this request written and enforced under a Bloodoath Contract and a trusted [Notary], should you not uphold your end of the bargain.”
“Of course.”
Aryyad requested the people under his employment within the guild that this [Notary] must not be connected to the Scribe Guild within the city. Fortunately, a person with that description existed within Ovespuerte, and she was hastily summoned to the office of the Merchant’s Guild. She oversaw and advised both of his clients on the contract regardless of the content pertaining to the assassination of a prominent figure. When the contract is finalized and signed a curse is placed on both.
Continuing to prepare for the assassination, he gave further instruction to his [Mercenaries, before heading towards the sole major temple of the port with two of his best [Mercenaries]. He barged past its [Guards] and faced its [High Priest], who is in the middle of ablution.
“You,” Aryyad called. “I need you to summon–”
“Shh!” Sacre hissed. “I won’t.”
“[Everything Has A Price].” Aryyad used one of his Feats to force the [High Priest] to negotiate.
“A hundred .” Sacre blurted out a price of a hundred gold coins in the kingdom's currency, provoked by that Feat.
“I will expose your heresy to the world if you do not do as I will.”
“Alright, alright. Let me call upon someone–”
“No.” Aryyad refused. “Or do you really want to be exposed?”
Aryyad dragged the uneasy [High Priest] into the temple’s underground level, where the mausoleum and reliquary is located. Aryyad already knew about the secret path that led to the hallowed room that contained the secret that Sacre desperately hid in Ovespuerte before Aryyad discovered it.
The room was pitch black before Sacre lit the candles. The candlelight touched the boxes of bones and the redolent jars, filling the sealed room with a miasma of rusting metal scattered around a magical circle that seemed to squirm in the presence of light. Aryyad had seen this before, but his hairs still stood on end.
“You say you can summon a Demon, right? Not a Daemon. Although I prefer the latter if I have a choice.” Aryyad asked for a confirmation.
“I haven’t attempted it. But the scroll I have is partially translated.” Sacre admitted.
“Damn. I really need to kill someone. Especially an idiot who can threaten a city. Can’t call for military support either. Let’s gamble. Do the summoning.” Aryyad further urged the [High Priest].
“But–” Sacre protested. “I’m not sure if I can control it once it manifests.”
“What’s the point of the people you killed then?” Aryyad pointed towards the boxes of bones and jars around the room. “You’re a [High Priest] right? Manifest a Miracle to banish him.”
Sacre ceased complaining and unfurled the scroll made his hand tingle. He put the parchment that contained the translation of the instructions written on the original scroll. He chanted in a tongue unfamiliar to him with words that scraped the tongue and inflicted a level of unease that was stranger than anything he had experienced to his soul. His identity recoiled by the actions Sacre committed himself with, and he repeatedly told himself that he is merely coerced; that he isn't doing this out of his own will. Yet he denied that he had bought this artifact because he wanted to have more power, and now this power had turned against him in a cruel twist of fate.
A rend in reality widened in front of them, and they felt the malevolence that threatened to swallow this place whole. A blade of gold widened it, and a red being of fifty-four limbs emerged from a realm of true darkness save for one pillar of blinding light which disappeared as the otherworldly creature fully manifested. It was not Sacre and Aryyad’s expectation of what a “demon” is, for instead of horns, the faceless creature don a halo of iridescent flame.
“A [Priest] had summoned me after millenia with such paltry sacrifices? A thrall of the beings I was created to kill? A joke.” The demon spoke with a voice that rang as hollow as a brass bell.
“Wha–”
Sacre tried to speak, but the demon overwhelmed his voice.
“I am…
When the demon spoke its name, it was in a tongue more universal than the common tongue spoken in the known world of the Six Lands.
When it spoke in its lipless voice, they saw, heard, and felt the essence of its name.
A single utterance of a part of its name almost overwhelmed Aryyad’s mind, while Sacre had steeled himself with the conviction given to him by his faith against the otherworldly syllable of its name that the creature had spoken.
“Regardless of the weak state you put me in, a contract between us has been made, as it was written by the original author of that scroll. What is your will, frailest of summoners?” The demon now spoke in a language and voice that was tolerable to the mortals in front of it.
“I had paid this man to summon you.” Aryyad regained his composure, thinking of the correct words to say. “Kill the individual named Johoon the Silver-Legged within five days or less, and banish yourself to wherever you came from.”
“Is this your will, summoner? The demon asked Sacre.
“Y-yes.” Sacre blurted out.
“Your will shall be done.”
The demon leaped with a force that raised dust and shattered layers of consecrated stone above it.
