Ostian-Belfroet Border

Bulwark Garrison Four.

S2 RE:volt! Chapter 1: Independent Mercenary

Underneath a bright blue sky draped across a sprawling evergreen landscape, a concert of sound floated into the air. Metal on metal clashing, horses neighing, screams of pain, anger, and fear. The raging emotions intermingling with the rising embers being carried into the wind.

Standing atop a corpse, Ark took a breath, his hands balling as he stood on a castle wall with no armor or weapons on his persons, only raggedy clothes, and blood ordaining his body.

“RAAAAH!”

Ark narrowed his eyes, tracking a green-armored man who charged at him with a spear. Ark effortlessly dodged, grabbing the spear shaft and snapping it before he kicked the man off of the garrison wall, sending the defender plummeting to his death some twenty-five feet below. He landed on several men, soldiers who were technically Ark’s allies that were busy climbing the ladders hanging on the side of the wall.

Crouching low, Ark dodged an overhead swing, the blade audibly swishing through the air and snatching the tips of his red hair before he spun with his acquired spearhead and stabbed his attacker through his liver, piercing the man’s stomach with his guts and stomach acid spilling out  

Behind you. Irelix warned, the dragon inside his soul being useful for once as Ark fought.

I know. 

Ark stood up, grabbing the screaming soldier attempting to hold his guts in and spinning the man, maneuvering him in the way of an arrow that entered through the back of his skull and out his eye socket, putting an end to the man’s screams.

Found you. Ark said to himself, smiling as the body dropped and revealed to Ark an archer standing atop a guard tower. 

The blonde archer in green leathers grimaced, eyeing the wicked smile the blood covered Ark had plastered on his face.

With his quarry in view, Ark took off, racing along the guard wall of the castle and dodging his allies and enemies fighting while avoiding the archer’s arrowheads. 

“Move you grublings! MOVE! Push forward! Are you men of Ostia or are you cowards! Push them back and stop that man!” A knight outfitted in soot-covered green platemail roared over the clashing of metal, pointing at the boy who charged forward unarmored through the crowd of soldiers fighting.

Suddenly a man stepped in front of Ark, the soldier raising a massive cudgel to end Ark once and for all, however as it came down, a shadow moved, stepping in front of Ark and catching the hammer with her bare hands. 

“WHAT?!” The soldier barked, his face one of confusion as a muscular girl with tanned skin wearing matching leather and a bandana stood in front of him, engaging him in a contest of strength. “HOW?!”

“Fuck you that’s how!” Morgana spat before ripping the bronze hammer out of the man’s hands and smashing him in the torso, sending the soldier off the wall as rocks began to fly, striking several of the foot soldiers in front of Ark with expert accuracy.

At the rear, Seventeen was on the wall, standing beside Alice and Axel, the pair in random bits of armor guarding the girl with shields as she readied her sling for another rock.

The Nobodies. Ark's newly minted independent mercenary group consisting of former slaves.

Trusting their skill, Ark left them to their own devices and kept moving, picking up two discarded blades off the stone floor of the wall and pushing forward to engage the man in green armor barking orders.

“STOP HIM! WHAT ARE YOU BASTARDS DOING!” The man roared, his eyes flaring yellow with mana, indicating he was a mystic user.

Ark’s eyes lit up, his dual cores churning as he empowered his body with positive energy and dashed forward, catching the knight off guard with Ark’s sudden boost in speed.

“You’re a mystic user?!” The man roared, barely parring Ark’s first blade and dodging the second as Ark flipped over the man, his ambush only managing to slice the man’s cheek.

“Yeah.” Ark replied, dropping into a low crouch before dashing forward, slashing with his twin swords locking the man’s blade in position before throwing a flying kick to the man’s stomach, sending him reeling where Morgana was waiting.

The former slave swung her new hammer, striking the man in his side who much to his credit didn’t fall immediately. The knight winced, turning his head to the girl glaring at him only for his field of vision to turn an entire one-eighty as Ark dropped his swords and latched onto the man, breaking his neck in one swift movement.

“That’s one down, make-” Ark began as the body slumped over, only to be interrupted by the archer in the distance shooting arrows at him. Ark side stepped, grabbing the twitching corpse of the mystic user and lifting him up, using the man as a shield as he turned to Morgana. “Make sure to collect his head so we can get the reward.”

“Sure, whatever.” The girl shrugged, grabbing the body as Ark took off after the now fleeing archer. 

“Tsk. Why do they always run.” Ark muttered, easily dispatching two more footmen who attempted to cover his quarrie’s escape. 

****

In the distance, a li away from the wall, a man watching through a telescope from atop his chestnut-colored horse adorned in heavy armor observed the battle. He smiled, watching as the green banners of Ostia were cut down off the towers and replaced by red flags bearing the eagle crest of Belfroet. 

His gaze shifted, moving toward a large flag of Ostia flapping in the wind where a boy in rags was shimmying up the pole being cheered on by Belfroet footmen as he prepared to cut down the tapestry. 

Zeltoya smiled.

“Ah, this campaign is going swimmingly.” Knight Commander Zeltoya Zey said as he signaled for his armored cavalry to advance. “Mr. Montague, once more your slaves prove to be an effective addition to our fighting force. Have you reconsidered my offer on enlisting your services permanently?”

The Knight Commander turned to the hunched over middle-aged man in a suit atop a deerling, the man once known as Ninety-Nine tugging at his collar and dabbing his sweating brow as he began a reply.

“Pardon my correction sir, but Loyd and the others are not my slaves. They are my employees.” Felone refuted, directing his deerling to walk in lockstep with the man’s horse. “And no sir, we are an independent group. We go where the money is.”

‘Ahaha! Spoken like a true mercenary!” Zeltoya replied with a laugh. “Pray tell, where did you pick up such a band of experienced… employees?”

“Orphans from the battle of the Dandelions I’m afraid. Would-be slaves of the Xigbort Estate but they were too young at the time to be deployed.” Felone said, spilling the pre-planned story of Ark and the other’s backstory. “I was a caretaker there, and using what riches I could escape with, I bought their freedoms during the slave auction.”

“I see. I wasn’t aware Xibort possessed such terrifying monsters under his employ. Perhaps the battle would have gone differently if he had time to unleash these monsters.” Zeltoya chuckled before his eyes crinkled. “Truly a tragic tale of repeated violence. Come now, let's calculate your pay.”

****

Leaning under the arch of the now opened gate of the garrison, Ark stood with a tapestry of Ostia folded over his shoulder, the flag of the castle personally taken by his hand. At his feet, a bloody burlap bag lay.

He turned his eyes, gazing on Isa leading the others in rummaging through the pockets of the dead Ostian soldiers. Despite the glares from the Belfroet soldiers, Ark's cadre of slaves paid their etiquette no mind as the went about scavenging.

“Oui! Loyd!” Felone called out, the man riding beside the Cavalry Commander of the Belfroet Demon Riders, a cadre of horsemen famous for their black armored horses.

Ark's eyes turned to the army trouting toward the gate on their mounts and the Commander stopping beside Ark. 

“Mr. Loyd. I do not believe we've had the pleasure of meeting.” The man said, dismounting as the rest of his soldiers marched into the castle seized by the vanguard. Zeltoya removed his armored gauntlet, extending his hand to Ark. 

“Good evening Cavalry Commander Zeltoya, the pleasure is all mine to meet a fabled rider such as yourself.” Ark replied, his tone cordial with a hint of reverence towards the man's station as he shook his hand.

Firm grip. Calloused. 

Judging from his complexion however and odd tan lines, Ark could tell he spent a significant amount of time in his armor. This man was a warrior through and through. 

“Mr. Montague, you didn't tell me your boy here possessed a silver tongue haha!” Zeltoya replied as Ark reached down and grabbed the bloody bag at his feet and presented it to the man.

“Is this what I think it is?” Zeltoya said, brow raised.

“As ordered. The heads of Gate Captain Lox, Bow Lieutenant Deraim, and Lieutenant Hershmer.” Ark said, presenting the goods to the man who took the bag and winced as he peeked inside.

“Ah…” the man said, gesturing to a man in leather armor embroidered with an Belfroet Eagle, no older than his early twenties, the squire approached on a scarcely armored horse. “Geoffry, take this to the prior, have him mark their deaths as honorable.”

“Yes sir.” The squire said, galloping off into the castle as Ark presented the banner.

“Unbloodied, well kept, and intact. Just as I ordered.” Zeltoya whistled, inspecting the folded flag. “This will make a fine trophy. As agreed per the contest Mr. Montague, four thousand per head. Ten thousand for the flag and an extra two because I'm in a good mood. Talk to the Quartermaster Bert and present this crest, he'll get you set up. ”

Felone bowed, taking the medallion of an eagle. “Thank you sir.”

“No. Thank you. With more of your… employees, this war may just be over yet.” Zeltoya said before taking his leave.

“Right.” Felone said before smiling at Ark, the old man reaching down and ruffling Ark's hair. “Haha! Twenty-four thousand creds boy! The double thousands boy kid!” 

Ark let out a smirk, sighing as he turned and walked off towards where the rest of the Nobodies were.