Grandheart, the capital of the Order Dominion and my current home. Despite the terror festering in the streets, it was only heightened by Ickni's wicked schemes. It was quite a beautiful sight, an intricate network of homes, merchants, and various shops. I had no room to complain about the city's wonders and sights.
Leaving behind the bustling cityscape, I made my way along the cobbled streets, following the roughly drawn map that would guide me to my destination: The Broken Lance's current headquarters.
A mercenary company marked for extermination for being suspected of being Famine Devils, I hadn't the faintest clue what a Famine Devil was or what a Devil even looked like.
As always, I was left in the dark about what exactly a Devil even was, which meant I faced this mission alone and without any knowledge. Still, if I wanted to survive Ickni's schemes, I would have to adapt to situations like this.
After all, I now had a rival in the Moon. Lucius von Snow was my newfound sparring partner and comrade in arms. When he awoke, he wouldn't leave me alone, begging every minute of the day to have a rematch. It had been around a week since we'd had our clash. Since then, he had taken me under his wing and was training me into one of the finest killers in the five Dominions.
He didn't use that word, but it was all the same to me. Soldier or murderer, they followed the same path, making them the exact same: killers. Despite my feelings, I welcomed his training.
I just couldn't refuse a chance to grow my power. His cheeky smile pushed my heart onto his side. I just couldn't refuse such a curious face. Whether our newfound relationship would prosper or fall into oblivion was yet to be determined.
Oh, but how I hoped it would end in the former.
The Broken Lance's headquarters soon came into view. It was an old warehouse renovated and recently re-equipped to hold all their weapons and equipment. The headquarters was guarded to the teeth, with multiple armed guards holding a variety of weapons. Their faces were almost completely covered by black clothes.
Their attention turned to me, the blades in their hands subtly pointing in my direction. They looked at each other warily, confirming their suspicion. Around six guards stood at the main entrance and at a gate where horses could be seen through the bars.
Their suspicion was justified. It reassured me that the mask on my face was still there. I traced my fingers on its surface, feeling the hardwood of the black and white mask I had 'borrowed' from the victim of the Rebels of Revel.
I was just some sketchy wingless wearing a mask approaching them. I didn't blame their suspicion.
"Wingless, speak your intentions or begone! We do not wish for your kind to sully our reputation!" shouted one of the older guards, his wrinkles showing all over his eyes.
"I've come to hire your services. I need a certain someone disposed of. If you catch what I'm putting down."
The two rear guards on the main entrance tilted their weapons towards my neck, making no effort to hide their aversion.
The older man's body relaxed slightly at my words, signalling to the men to drop their aggression, while they didn't look pleased. They begrudgingly lowered their weapons.
"We'll happily hear out your request; we don't discriminate against anyone here. As long as you have money, then we're happy to help. I'm Victor Blackwood. It's nice to make your acquaintance."
Victor held out his hand for a handshake. As I got closer to the man, I smelled the scent of blood and death practically pouring off his body. After realizing this, his smile no longer had any meaning—just an empty gesture. Still, I grasped his hand, playing into my little act.
"Ard Ritter. It's nice to meet you as well, Victor Blackwood."
I had no particular reason for this name; it was just the first name that popped into my head. I obviously couldn't tell my real name, or I'd be found out instantly. It's not often that a wingless joins the Servants of Order, let alone battles Lucius von Snow and Artoria Luminous.
My name has long since become common in the mouths of the people of Grandheart. Even travellers know of me.
"If you'd come this way, we'll get you situated, and our leader will meet with you. It may take an hour. He is a very busy man."
"No worries."
Ever since I touched the man's hand, a stinging pain had been rippling throughout my arm. I could feel my blood slowing. My motor functions dulled.
Recognizing the symptoms, I suspected poison—likely a product of their own power. In response, I flooded my hand with divinity and purifying light, detoxifying my blood before the poison could spread further.
After neutralizing the poison, Victor led me deeper into their stronghold. We passed the outer corridors and soon reached a small reception room at the back of the warehouse. The signs were all there: this was undeniably the headquarters of a mercenary corps.
Their emblem, the Broken Lance, littered throughout the hallways, and weapons and supplies were dotted across the whole building. Apparently, they didn't know what storage was, so they just left it sitting in random places.
"So, Ard Ritter. How come you wear a mask?" asked Victor.
"I'm not the best looking of people, and I have a scar running along my face. Since I'm wingless, I don't enjoy the increased aversion."
"Ah, that sounds tough indeed."
Inside the small reception room, I saw a tea set, a coffee table, and a couple of couches and armchairs awaiting visitors. It was, perhaps, what one would expect from a mercenary company—humble but practical.
It wasn't the most fancy reception room, but that was just to be expected from a mercenary company. After sitting down on one of the couches, I looked towards Victor, who stood in the doorway. He seemed lost in thought, confused.
"Victor? Are you okay?"
"Ah, yes. I'm sorry, I was lost in thought for a moment. Please excuse my improper behaviour."
"Oh, it's of no concern, I've seen worse."
"I'm sorry. How could I forget? Please wait here, our leader will be here soon."
"Very well, I'll wait here."
"Thank you."
With that, Victor left the room, swiftly walking away, a tinge of concern running across his brow.
Alone in the room, I sipped the tea they'd served. Time ticked by, and I waited for the leader to arrive, but the clock's hands moved on—still, no one came.
It had been around an hour since Victor had left. I had already drunk the whole teapot. It was also poisoned, but I just purified it with a slight drop of my blood.
Lucius had been helping me discover all the uses of all the powers in secret. Of course, he had been extremely useful in applying the Edicts of this world to my own power. He hadn't yet figured out that I don't have an Edict.
I gave him the same vague lie that my Edict of Light was on my heart like I had to Ickni. He seemed to buy it, unlike Ickni, but I doubted it would last that long.
"Hello!?" I shouted.
I was growing bored of waiting; my little act was turning out to be quite boring. My shouts were met with silence, nothing.
Not even a slight whisper or footstep. I put my ear to the closed door and listened for any sounds beyond it. When I was sure I couldn't hear anything, I tried to open the door. It wouldn't budge. The knob just rattled against itself.
I'd been locked in here, and I didn't even notice. Their plan was most likely to wait until the poison they had been feeding me eventually knocked me out. I started to wonder if they even took contracts or just killed everyone who stepped through the door.
Creating a small blade of light on my fingertip, I cut a circle around the knob. This disconnected the lock from the door. I pulled it out and discarded the lock on the floor.
Once I opened it, I warily peeked around the corner but didn't see anyone. Then, I started walking through the hallways.
All the rooms I peeked into had the same setup: couches, a table, a teapot, and a few armchairs. Luckily, I didn't spot any other people here, so I didn't need to worry about catching innocent people in the crossfire.
In the middle of the warehouse was an unlocked, empty storage room. Two mercenaries guarded it. I didn't know what was in there, but it piqued my interest.
"Hello? Could you two help me out a bit? I've been waiting for the leader of the Broken Lance, but he hasn't shown up. It's been quite a while. Victor said he'd only be a few minutes," I said to the two men, popping my head out of the doorway.
The guards looked at each other, completely baffled. They had definitely never encountered someone who could withstand their poison; they obviously didn't know what to do.
"Hey! You're not supposed to be back here. Go back and wait."
The larger of the two stepped forward. He took control of the situation, dismissing his confusion and playing it off. Both had their hands firmly secured around their swords. Something was definitely here. That I was sure of.
"I've heard something interesting about this mercenary group. I'd thought I would test your strength and see if you deserve a heavy payday, but if you are going to treat me like this, then I'd have no other choice but to turn my attention elsewhere."
"Silence, wingless! Begone before we cut you down. This is a restricted area. Go back, I'll give you a single warning."
"Dropping the act then? Oh, and here I thought you were a band of honourable mercenaries willing to solve one of my little problems. A shame."
"I won't ask again!"
"Tell me, what exactly are you, people? You bear the mark of angels, but a putrid smell hangs over every single one of you. Do you just not wash, or is it something more sinister?" I asked.
The two guards' bodies tightened for a moment, and they both changed their stances, preparing to cut me down.
There was a good distance between us; I had more than enough time to cut them down before they would get anywhere close. Raising my hand towards the larger man, I changed my gesture to a finger gun, pointing at his head.
"Is that a—"
"Bang."
A small beam of light launched from my hands, blasting the mercenary's head clean off, covering his friend in his blood.
The other one turned towards his friend's lifeless corpse as it thudded to the floor, his eyes shaking with unbridled fear and confusion.
"Hm? Why do your eyes shake with fear? You are one of the Famine Devils, are you not?"
"What? How could you possibly know that! Who are you?!"
"I was a client going by the name of Ard Ritter, but I suppose that doesn't matter anymore since this isn't even an actual mercenary company."
The devil dropped to the floor, grasping his friend's body, tears flowing from his eyes. The scene invoked a sense of nausea in me.
How could a devil act so emotionally in the face of death? Weren't devils supposed to be creatures of death and darkness? We were in the building where many innocent angels were killed or kidnapped. How could this putrid creature cry for another after what he had done?
"Do you have no shame? You sit there in tears, spitting in the face of all the innocent devils you had led to death, who do you think you are? Your little performance only invokes pity and disgust from me; I don't feel any sorrow for you. Your weakness is apparent; that is unforgivable in this world."
"Bastard! You're nothing but a wingless freak, who are you to question me!? I'll kill you for what you've done!"
"You'll do no such thing. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang!"
Aiming both my hands at the devil, I blasted off his legs and arms, crippling him completely, leaving him a bloody mess of a person.
His declaration was met with nothing; he didn't even get to move a muscle before I halted his attack.
"Famine Devils are the weakest of the four races, right? Ickni and Artoria told me that they prioritise deceit over actual strength. He, I bet you, wishes that you had trained and not followed the ways of Famine. I bet that after a little detail of your life is running in your mind. Am I right?"
"Ickni, Artoria? Who exactly are you?"
I was glad he asked me this; the mask was becoming more of an inconvenience anyway. I couldn't see anything past the eye slots, so it wasn't the best for annihilating a band of devils. I took off the mask, shaking my hair while I did so, freeing my mind and vision.
"Third String, Evernight of the Servants of Order. It's nice to make your acquaintance, little Devil."
"Evernight? The wingless freak that holds power, uncanny for a mutt, the anomaly of Order. Why are you here? Bastard!"
"You are all famine devils, yes? Why else but to exterminate the infection?"
"We're not doing anything! Is our only crime being devils!?"
The young devil squirmed on the floor, his face twisting into a putrid display of sorrow and desperation, trying his best to claw his way out of the room, but to no avail, staying rooted to the floor.
"Hm? How do you explain the little poison plot you've got going on here? If I couldn't nullify the poison, then I'd be some tasty looking meat right now, wouldn't I?"
"We kill to survive; we can't survive on anything else. We have to eat each other or angels, or else we'll just die! It's the same as—"
"A stray dog?"
"No…"
"Do you wish to live, devil?"
"Of course!"
"How many?"
"Huh?"
"How many lives have you taken with your own hands?"
My voice was low but carried the weight of a thousand suns, focusing my killing intent on the devil.
"I… 126"
"126… 126! Why are you lying to me!? Do you think I am so stupid as to believe such a pitiful lie? Do you!?" I shouted.
The devil's actions were becoming more and more frantic; his eyes told me all the stories I needed to hear. They were the deceitful eyes of a liar, never once locking onto mine, doing everything to avoid my piercing gaze.
"It's true!" pleaded the devil.
Grasping the devil by his collar, I held up his mangled body. My fury boiling over each second that passed by only added to the sea of anger. He tried to grasp my hand but forgot that he no longer had any limbs, sinking him further into despair.
"Show me your true form; you are not an angel, so drop the act."
"If I'm going to die, then I'm not going to follow your commands, bastard! Just kill me, I don't answer to some wingless even if they are strong."
Artoria had told me just before I left for this place, a crucial piece of information for battling against devils. Light is a devil's weakness, and darkness is an angel's weakness. One drop of an Edict of Light's power will reveal the true form of a devil, and one drop of darkness will cripple an angel.
Slashing the tip of my finger with a small light blade, I placed my finger before the devil's mouth, prying his mouth open with my free hand. The drop slowly trailed down into the devil's throat before disappearing.
"No!"
He violently contorted as I dropped him to the floor, his body twisting unnaturally, trying to dispel the pure light from his body. I had Seraphina's divinity inside of me, the God of this world. A powerful foreign force must be inducing the height of agony throughout the devil's body.
The devil eventually fell silent, his hideous movements falling still. All traces of his life had been violently removed by my blood, his eyes taking in one last glimpse of me before glossing over.
I was about to walk away, thinking the blood to be ineffective at revealing a devil's true form after a few seconds of nothing. But before I could, I heard a mangled shriek escape the devil's mouth, rippling through the silence of the whole warehouse.
Two skeletal wings sprouted from the devil's back, and a pair of midnight horns appeared on his forehead. Despite this transformation, he still showed no signs of life. His final breaths were ones of warning.
"Hm, interesting. You actually look quite cool like that. I've seen something similar in a show I once watched on Earth. You shouldn't have hidden yourself. That was impressive."