Linceleste paused and elegantly wiped her lips with her handkerchief. Turning her attention to Carmen and said, "I see. I will see it myself after the meal and recheck the health of those horses and will do resupply the needs after it.

Also, I'll take your order on my tab. Skipper." She said to Carmen and continued her eating and still kept her ears from the surroundings.

"That is not necessary." Answered the captain, rather than happy to hear it, he looked rather troubled. "It was already paid, and all expenses during this trip have been accounted for. Do not trouble yourself, or the soldiers in that outpost."

At that moment, Oswald the barkeep returned with Carmen's order. "Here they are, Sir, our signature Sausage Roll and pale ale. Enjoy."

The captain placed his hat on the table and smiled for the first time since this morning. "Muchas gracias, please don't take that senorita's coins. Thank you."

Soon after, the barkeep has already hovered around the counter, where his first guest already called.

"Blast it with the sauerkraut... Oswald, could I have a sausage roll as well, please?
Also do you have, um... a sprinkle jar of minced garlic? Do you sell 'em? I'd like one of those to go."

Sighing to contain his frustration, Oswald the barkeep went into the kitchen with nary a word and returned with another sausage roll on a plate, with the sauerkraut served in a separate saucer. It seemed the word 'blast it with sauerkraut' confused him more than Old Westernian long words, or he understood the order but found the idea of desecrating his proud hometown dish to be a horrendous affair.

"This ain't a grocery store. We aint got no minced garlic ere!"

All expenses paid? Then what did he just shill two silvers for to make the barkeep brew some coffee?
Oh well, it's not like they were his silvers.

^{『 Ludvig 』}
Takes a bite out of the sausage roll, and a spoonful of sauerkraut.

^{『 Ludvig 』}
No apology. It's worth the two silvers.

Now that Carmen's back with the group and Amaris inadvertently reminded him upon mention of her slaughter, there was indeed a question lodged in the back of Ludvig's mind ever since meeting every one of these people. He was sure this team of seemingly random people are all good people, but he just had to be sure.
He pivots from his barstool to get a better view of everyone in the tavern.

^{『 Ludvig 』}
Glances at Amaris during the last two sentences and gestures wide.

---

Carnatia picked up the utensils before starting to eat the food she had ordered.

...It was quite good actually. This was the first time she had eaten this particular combination of Sauerkraut, Schweinshaxe, and knödel so she did not have an exact frame of reference, but if, for instance, she compared the Schweinsaxe with other pork dish, she would say it ranked quite high. Not the best she had ever tasted, but if she were to give a numerical ranking, she would say it was in the 80s out of 100. Which, given the suddenness of her request and the fact this was no fine-dining establishment, meant that it was even more exceptional for the chef to have delivered this much.

She definitely would tip well.

After finishing the apfelstrudel as the dessert, Carnatia walked over to the bar.

This might not be fine dining establishment, but if they rose up to the task and gave her a fine dining worthy experience, than it was only proper and dutiful for Carnatia to give a proper review.

"It was an exquisite dish. The Dunkel in particular paired well with the Schweinsaxe. The Dunkel's caramel and nutty undertones of highlight the roasted flavours in the meat. Furthermore, though the juicy and flavourful meat of the pork's roasted crust was very tangible, it would risk being too overbearing, diminishing the taste of the side dish and the apfelstrudel dessert. However, you even compensated by giving a Dunkel brew with more bitterness, helping cleanse the palate and connecting the dishes. Mycompliments to the chef. If you wish to open a branch or relocate to the Vauclair Barony up North, I would welcome it. As the Baroness, I might even be inclined to set aside some funding.

She then took out a gold coin from her pouch, putting it on the counter, "The tip. More than deserved considering my admittedly rather outrageous request.

Returning to the table, she turned to Carmen, "I'd say it's about time we wrap up our soiree, no? But before that, is there anything important you found out from the Castellan?"

"It was an exquisite dish. The Dunkel in particular paired well with the Schweinsaxe. The Dunkel's caramel and nutty undertones of highlight the roasted flavours in the meat. Furthermore, though the juicy and flavourful meat of the pork's roasted crust was very tangible, it would risk being too overbearing, diminishing the taste of the side dish and the apfelstrudel dessert. However, you even compensated by giving a Dunkel brew with more bitterness, helping cleanse the palate and connecting the dishes. Mycompliments to the chef. If you wish to open a branch or relocate to the Vauclair Barony up North, I would welcome it. As the Baroness, I might even be inclined to set aside some funding."

"The tip. More than deserved considering my admittedly rather outrageous request.

Oswald the barkeep seemed very happy to hear that, although some words from Carnathia's review was lost in him, the additional tip made him stay and listen.

"Why of course, that's a serious compliment, Guv, most of me patrons ere come only to fill their pot and usually ain't care about the taste as long the portion is right. I will tell Nob bout this, and your proposition. Thank you."

____

"I'd say it's about time we wrap up our soiree, no? But before that, is there anything important you found out from the Castellan?"

Carmen finished his meal and set aside his empty plate, taking time to wear his hat before answering. "Only unusual tales about lack of refugees trying to cross the border, and one of the horses borrowed by Paladin's group was returned... without its rider."

The last part made the air in that room turn rather gloomy and Ludvig's question suddenly had more weight in it.

"I only know one thing, Master Ludvig. Paladin Thomas is the most selfless person I know, and everything he does is for the betterment of others. Only the most vile would wish him or his aides harm, and such a specimen of beings does not deserve to live. If we have to kill to cleanse the world from such abominations, then Dios está con nosotros."

Then Captain Friston was silent, deep down he knew from the beginning that their mission was not at all peaceful. The possibilities that caused Paladin Thomas's disappearance were many, and almost all of them were bad news. The report from the Castellan further reinforced that notion.

But despite that, he prayed to God that his sword would stay in its scabbard.

"But sometimes there are ignorants amongst the vicious." He continued, still answering Ludvig's question and everyone in general. "I pray you will be able to exercise patience and restraint toward those people, for even the Creator Himself will not punish those who are unaware of His Revelation."

@Randomguy@Cale Henituse

---

Osric watched as Amaris and Ludvig was locked into a short lived, but oddly entertaining moment of embarrassment and confusion. Amaris at first seemed at a loss for what to say, but she was able to at lest respond. For someone capable of gruesome bloodshed, it was humorous to watch. He sipped his coffee as Amaris changed the subject, bring the personal matter to a more shallow one. Another compliment to the sausage rolls. A one off comment from the barkeep to keep things simple and raving for the food it was. Maybe it was because they were on the road so long, having something fresher made was a welcome change.

Osric downed his coffee as everyone else was finishing up their meals. Wooden flatware quickly emptying as forks scrapped up the last morsels. There was plenty of daylight out, and much to be done to finalize their venture into Tretagor the following morning. Osric would double check his supplies later. There was no telling what he could scavenge in the wilds should he be under prepared. Bullets were easy. Black powder would be a different story.

Osric listened in to Carmen as he answered some of the coming questions. He quickly sniffed the air and coughed before he spoke, “I get the church is more forgiving and welcoming than most. But if any of the stories I’ve heard about Tetragor is true, then I’m not hesitating to put down anyone who raises a blade against us. It’s my job to help you guys get there quickly safely. It’s already going to be a quarter of a year by the time we get there. And already if no refuges have made it out here since then, I’m going to have to be on my guard. We might not have the time or luxury to play therapist.”

Time flies and their session in that tavern continued. Some would spend the rest of the day chatting with each other, annoying the barkeep some more, or strolling around the town, shopping for provisions or just anything Dragon's Maw had to offer.

Carmen rested in his room until sunset and woke up when it was time for dinner. There were some small celebrations, notably from some veterans who served under his command. While he no longer participates in rowdy carouses, he could afford to stay for a while and entertain his old peers for a while, telling the story about the order and his past missions.

And then he would retreat to his room and get another sleep.

The next morning, after a round of tasty breakfast, the group left Dragon's Maw without delay, each riding their horses. Nine people heading straight to No Man's Land, and no one sent them off or wished them good luck. Such a gloomy way to continue a long journey, but not something unexpected.




Life begins at the other side of despair. We cannot escape anguish. It is what we are.
_______

Weeks of grueling journeys on horseback would make anyone appear disheveled and drained, but the emptiness of the great steppe that stretched from Dragon's Maw to Sielse was almost nauseating. But it also has its boon, the plainness of the land made it easier to spot anyone over the distance, and considering the reputation of Tretagor, it at least made it easier to sleep at night.

So, when the group finally arrived at Sielse, there was a joyous feeling when the staple scenery was green forest again, although the occasional rains would hamper their journey and make their dinner cold, the change of atmosphere was pretty much welcomed.

It was, until eleven days passed since they crossed into the war-torn province.

In many places, the sign of blight could be seen in the forestry. And houses, either ruined or abandoned, had become the occasional varieties to see along the way. It was hard to imagine what fate befallen the inhabitants, but one thing was for sure, Carmen knew they had to double their vigilance.

Today was the thirteenth day since they crossed the border.

The smell of mud and horse dung made Carmen spit on the brown tarnished earth below. It was still morning and some of them had slept half the time healthy person was supposed to.

After seeing the first sign of slaughter, the fellowship had decided that a night watch was necessary. The threat from wild animals, especially during wartime was very real. Not only that, they also need to watch out for potential danger from fellow humans. They had yet to witness any battle, but the aftermath of it had been very apparent so far.

Followed by others, The Captain guided his horse to walk slowly. Ahead of them, there was a wooden beam placed diagonally on top of two crossing logs. At the summit of that beam dangled a dried skeleton.

It was the first time the vulgar memento of the cruelty of war laid bare before them, but that poor hangman was not the only sign Carmen was focused on. In the distance, there was a faint trail of smoke ascending, and as they rode further, the sound of someone crying for help could be heard.

____

"You hear that?" Carmen raised his index finger and reined his horse to stop. "Sounds like someone is in distress. Let's find them!"

Either moved by a sense of duty as a clergyman or simply tired of not encountering any locals for almost two weeks, the captain raced his horse toward the source of the voice. Thankfully the voice did not guide him off the beaten path, but rather, straight to the country road they intended to take.

"It wasn't me! You gotta believe me! Gods! Gods In the sky! Mercy for this poor soul!"

The cries were clearer now, but after that only silence followed. Thankfully the person in distress could be easily located after they rode past a turn. But something was amiss.

Dead ahead they could see six people, five clad in red-striped uniforms while the last men wore ragged clothes often associated with peasantries. One of the uninformed men bashed the peasant's chest with his musket, while another had already collared that peasant with a rope affixed to a similar wooden apparatus they had seen earlier.

The arrival of the fellowship startled the men, who immediately assumed a position to attack.

""Halt! Halt! Who goes there?! State your business or we will hang you like pigs!" One of the men shouted and pointed his poleaxe toward the incoming riders. Unlike his friends, this man wore a distinctive metal helmet and seemed sturdier and more armored, giving the impression that he outranked all others.

"We mean you no harm!" answered Captain Friston, slowing his horse and eventually dismounted. "My name is Carmen Andario Friston, We are from The Order of The Golden Sun, and I approach you without any intention to incite hostility, we are simply here to look for someone."

"Golden Sun? Never heard about it. Who is this someone?!" Hoarsed the sergeant, who upon closer inspection looked like soldiers belonging to an unknown faction, presumably Tretagorian revolutionists from their color scheme, but they lacked any identifiable insignias.

"That will be our Paladin, Thomas Sanders, and volunteers. Perhaps you have seen him? Or heard about him and his group? They were dressed in blue like us."

"Oh yah? What are they doing in these parts?"

Carmen offered the man one of his friendliest smiles. "To help the locals, Good Sir. Paladin Thomas and some of his attendees are capable doctors and healers. They are here to practice the pillars of our teaching, which is to do good to all living beings. Sadly we have been in lost contact with Paladin and all of his entourage. So please sir, if there is something you know, would you kindly inform us?"

When Carmen mentioned the Paladin's predicament, the sergeant snorted like he had offended him somehow. "We know nothing. This region is under military supervision and you all have entered unlawfully. I suggest you turn back to your country, pronto!"

It was Carmen's turn to frown. "Excuse me?"

Before the disagreement could continue, they were interrupted by the peasant, who already had his head covered by a burlap sack and standing on top of a wooden stool with a rope around his neck to keep him from falling over. Behind the coarse fabric, his desperate voice cracked by the tension from the rope and fear of death.

"Sir, I know who you are looking for! I saw them, clad in blue like royalty, had a sword but never raised against the poor and defenseless. Came with lads and gals! I know sir and I know where they went... please save me, save me sire! I ain't do no wrong I swear!"

Hearing that, the sergeant looked even more agitated. He looked back and shouted. "Quiet! Argh! Just drop the bastard!"

One of the soldiers kicked the stool, and what followed was an agonizing strangling voice of a man.

"You heard what I said. Return to your country while you can. And While we still ask nicely."

But Carmen's attention was already on the dying peasant. "What crimes he was guilty of?"

"That's none of your business, but I will tell you anyway. He hunted animals and stole grains from Eldorman's warehouse. A capital offense, but we had hanged people for less. Now, there you go! Answered your question, Get lost! All of you before I hang you all too!"

A mixed feeling of anger, frustration, and doubt now swirled inside Captain Friston's head. As he watched the peasant struggling for breath, he wasn't only seeing a man being punished unjustly, but also his chance to find Thomas being taken away from him. Sternly, he looked at the sergeant, and in that moment, he knew he had to make a choice.

Mirielle had almost thought that a supernatural phenomenon had befallen the entire territory and whisked everyone else away, what's with two entire weeks went by without meeting a single living person. She had expected to at least run into someone coming out, but nothing. Odd, just like that barkeep had said.

Thankfully it turned out to not being a completely deserted land after all, though the circumstances of the encounter could've been better. Urging her horse after Carmen, they soon ran into a small group of uniformed men surrounding a ragged sixth.

The former preparing to execute the latter.

Scowling at the sight, Mirielle dismounted and followed closely behind the captain who tried to talk to the men, not like he's making much headway - the fools had more bluster than sense, lots of good those muskets would do when outnumbered at this distance even if her companions were but mundane soldiers.

Her scowl deepened as Carmen's speech made little progress in front of the near-suicidal idiocy of the fools before her, bringing back to the little conversation they've had at their last rest stop. To think that it came to relevance so soon after meeting the locals...

"Indeed. We are not always afforded the chance to be kind. Try avoid unnecessary harm if you can, but do not hesitate to take action for both your own well-being and the mission itself."

And it looked like the time to take action was now. The hanging started, though by her experience such method wasn't immediately fatal. Enough time to subdue these fools and mount a rescue.

"The Order of The Golden Sun does not recognize your authority over this land." Mirielle stated, stepping past the captain as her burning aura flared. "We will be taking custody of that man. Stand aside, or be made to."

She hoped that this much was sufficient show of force. Best if she didn't have to expend the holy power to power through musket shots, though if necessary she wouldn't shy away from drastic measures. Would need to break some limbs for it though, just to ensure they didn't try again. Wouldn't that be such a shame?

"The Order of The Golden Sun does not recognize your authority over this land."

The sergeant moved to block the advancing Mirelle. Now he had two inquisitors in front of him, and God knows how long their patience would last. But the order was the order still.

"What? Who says...?!I suggest you step back. Lady." He said, now pointing poleaxe at Mirielle. He did not fail to notice the change of air around that woman, but, Mirielle too should know that soldiers were not her run-of-the-mill cult members; they were trained to remain unwavering under pressure, and as natives of Tretagorian harsh environment, they had seen worse.

"We will be taking custody of that man. Stand aside, or be made to."

"You do not want to do this!" the sergeant shouted at her. "Move! Or we will put you down! Do you really want to die for a scoundrel?!"

Behind that sergeant, three of his men had already taken a safe distance and were now in position to fire their muskets. Things were escalating quickly.

"So be it."

Mirielle charged, soft glimmer of gold materializing over her person, fully trusting her divine armor against any maneuver the poleaxe could bring. Letting Carmen and the rest to deal with the sergeant, she bypassed him in favor of running straight at the musketeers with sword drawn. Between the phantom heat that would soon take effect and her own formidable approach, better if they panic and try to shoot her than anyone else.

---

As the group made their way through Sielse, Carnatia's face occasionally scrunched up in disgust. The province of Sielse was in poor condition. Whoever was charged in the province had failed utterly at upholding their duty. She cannot imagine what conditions the common people living here were facing. At this point, calling it a failed state was not an exaggeration. At the very least, it made her feel better should her actions here would indeed end up in Westernant annexing the province. Surely, life under Westernant cannot be worse than this for the people of Sielse.

If any even yet lived, that was, Carnatia thought as they travelled through the province with nary a soul in sight.

Eventually, however, they encountered natives of the province. A group of soldiers attempting to arrest a man. The man claimed that he had the information they were seeking, but then again, of course, a man on the verge of death would claim that, clinging to the hope that their group may be his salvation.

For a moment, Carnatia mused the current conundrum at hand. One side of the argument was to respect the 'laws' of the land. These soldiers claimed to be the authority here, and thus far, nothing Carnatia had seen betrayed that fact. This was definitely unlawful conduct, considering that this was in the middle of nowhere, Carnatia doubted that the man had been sentenced in court and was simply being executed here, however...this was still their land—for the time being—and thus it was their prerogative to enact such barbaric law enforcement.

On the other hand, the fact that such barbaric law enforcement was upholding might count toward the eventual argument Westernant would make that Sielse was a failed state and thus they needed to move in to restore order. Thus, as a noble of Westernant who had a duty to advance her country's agenda, it might be prudent to save the man as a witness to the barbarism of the ruler of Sielse.

That, coupled with the fact that currently the representative of the Church, meant that her duty would be to not tolerate such blatant wickedness...

Yes. Saving the man probably would be the correct choice. That being said, killing the soldiers of the land's ruler would be ill-advised as they would have enough trouble without being wanted by the ruler of the land.

Therefore, diplomacy should—

Just as Carnatia came to her conclusion, however, Mirielle charged.

'That hothead...!' Carnatia thought.

Carnatia put herself between Mirielle and the soldier.

"Hold, Mirielle. Best we pursue diplomatic avenue further!" she shouted, her rapier drawn and enhanced with magic, her senses sharpened to sense any incoming attack with her prescient defence, just in case Mirielle did not incline to reason or the soldiers attacked anyway.

Then, she added toward the soldiers, "We clearly have conflicting interests, let us parley with your lord. That is the only scenario in which this won't end poorly for you. If you refuse, then we have to fight, and this is not a fight you'd likely win."

Gesturing at Amaris, she continued, "This Sarkaz is the infamous 'witch' who massacred an entire town. I'm sure you've heard the rumours of a border town between Varenhaim and Westernant being destroyed by a single witch.

Then, gesturing at herself, she added, "Even if you somehow win, it will not end well for you. For I am a daughter of Westernant's Ducal House, de Luson. Killing me is ground enough for Westernant to declare war. You will be known as the soldiers who invoked the wrath of Westernant, probably causing a war. I'm sure your lord won't look kindly at that."

_{Fifteen days ago...}

Ludvig felt significantly less bad about spending two silvers for coffee, after Carnatia's generous tip of what does amount to ten silvers.
Before that was a lengthy positive review, followed by more sentiments about splurging. It felt strangely nostalgic, seeing someone in nobility just gleefully part with coin.
Oh, how rare they ever do it.

Then came their replies to his question. Statements of their resolve, or some might rather view as justifications for their future misgivings. Sadly, Ludvig did not disagree with it. There exists lost causes that are simply permanent, unamendable. Best to lock them away from society, yet to him death still seemed too much for a prison.

He knew that thinking so was hypocrisy. He'd be lying to himself to think it wasn't.
He hoped to match their resolve with his. The first thought was to finally procure a weapon again.

After the little breakfast party, Ludvig was out and about, wandering around the city, observing the people. He would not be seen by the rest of the team for the ensuing twenty or so hours.

The morning after, before departure, a leather-sheathed steel dagger could be spotted along his left waist, and for the more discerning, a little rectangular shape filling the right breast pocket of Ludvig's pink polo.
One could tell he was a tad dismayed, seemingly about this new horse. But of course, it wasn't trained to trot like the previous one. A galloping horse, he muttered and sighed. He supposes reading a book during the ride was finally out of the question.

_{During the trip...}

The object in Ludvig's pocket reveals itself to be a polished silver, stainless steel harmonica, with which he would skillfully play some tunes with as they rode the days on horseback.

When he's not playing the harmonica, he resumed his habit of sleeping on the galloping horse during the day, and with the extra vigilance, he afforded extra sleep during the night as well... except for the nights when Amaris took watch, opting to stay up and try to chat with her. Meaningless topics like the moons and stars in the sky, and how beautiful she is as these celestial bodies reflected their lights about her.

A worry develops in the back of his mind that the extra sleep's gradually turning him into a deeper sleeper...

_{Present day...}

... as is proven by Ludvig still being asleep during the entire ruckus that is currently happening.
He jolted awake at the sound of Carnatia's voice pleading for Mirielle to stay her ground, and the wake of mana surrounding the two women.
Trouble. Five uniformed men and a sixth hanging by a rope.

With about zero hesitation and a hopefully adequate evaluation of this team's members, he unsheathes his dagger, leaps off his horse, grabs the biggest guy in the team -- that being the masked man in green named Sten Rezello Ashton-Fulsteel -- and teleports¹ both of them right beside the hanged peasant, slashing the rope while mid-air and letting the peasant fully drop to ground.

There they were, Rezello, Ludvig and the peasant, in the middle of two uniformed soldiers, one of them visibly more armoured.
Obviously Rezello would deal with the more armoured one, right? He could only hope.

^{『 Ludvig 』}
Provocation is such a fun prelude to any conflict. He gauged their reactions as he prodded with the important question, and swiftly came to a conclusion.
These people are hiding something. They need to be kept alive.

From this point on, a shield² of slimy, gooey nature, may pop up around Rezello or the peasant if they are unable to dodge an attack. Ludvig's confident he can dodge attacks without having to spend any mana to shield it, even from one of the muskets.

_{¹『 Jumpscare 』
²『 Prismatic Barrier 』}

In a matter of seconds, a group that had never seen any battle for two straight weeks suddenly instigated one for themselves. Mirrielle was the first to charge forth, bypassing the sergeant at breakneck speed toward the three other musketeers, who had positioned themself 20 meters from their sergeant.

Simultaneously, two of the group's frontliners had suddenly repositioned themselves near the hanged man and one of the soldiers. A blade swung to cut the rope, and the poor peasant dropped with a thud. But at least he breathed.

Landing smoothly, Ludvig spoke nonchalantly.

"Greetings, mortals. Fine morning we have today.
So, are you loyalists or revolutionists? Doesn't matter, you're all the same anyway. Do y'all know of a Paladin by the name of Thomas?"

His answer was delivered in the form of a swing of an axe from a nearby soldier, but years of experience in the circus taught Ludvig a thing or two about preparing to evade such an onslaught. He spun a swift pirouette, and the soldiers tumbled off balance as his axe struck empty air.

----

Meanwhile, at the same time, the sergeant was clearly not amused by Carnathia's blatherings. Although some diplomatic words were clearly understood, the gesture this group showed was clearly the opposite. How could they parley when three of them had already invaded the boundaries, releasing a criminal and pointing weapons at them? There was no turning back.

He was quick to assume a stance, and the follow-up jab was delivered almost instantly. Carnathia evaded instinctively, and Carmen sprung into action to prevent another follow-up. With his saber, he parried the outstretching axe and deflected it sideways, away from Carnathia.

Meanwhile, the baroness dived low into her opponent's defense and countered with a quick slash on the sergeant's gambeson before deftly retreating back to her position.

The man was startled by the sudden strike, but beneath that gambeson, he wore a chainmail and a few layers of leather. The attack did not go through but caused him to take a few steps back.

'Enough!" Carmen barked."Senor, attacking a lady is unacceptable! You are outnumbered! Tell your men to stand down!"

For a brief second, just a fraction of it, the sergeant seemed to consider, but the loud bang from the musketeers sealed the deal.

___

Someone who charged straight into a firing line would either have a death wish or a highly formidable opponent. That was what their training dictated.

Similar to archery, shooting takes skills, and in Tretagorian's massive army reserves, it was what differed the marksmen from the common ground troops. They were well-trained, and trained to use their brains on the battlefield. A common grunt needed only to swing a weapon, but the marksmen had no luxury of follow-up shot, and thus every shot must be counted.

From the safety of their temporal distance, one musketeer fired at the charging inquisitor. Meanwhile the other aimed at Ludvig after timing his movement.
Smokes and burning stench of gunpowder permeated in the air. The first shot ricocheted off Mirielle's divine armor, While the second shot hit Ludvig on his collarbone.
They only had one second to congratulate, because it was now apparent to them that the Inquisitor was not stopping, and in fact, closing the distance rapidly.

By the next second, the last musketeer fired his musket, but the divine armor still prevailed.
By the third count, they were already in Mirielle's striking range.

---

Linceleste was still on her horseback as the situation escalated fast as her fellow teammates acted fast. She kept her distance behind the skipper. She closed her eyes and took deep breath. The hair started to glow, and as she opened her eyes, it began to glow too. A cubic shape was created in her palm, and she threw it to the ground. It burst out and shaped into a spider-like. It was a crystallized spider stand nearby.

"Pin down the sergeant. We will make him as a bargain," the ice princess commanded her drone. 

The drone rushes to the sergeant. Passing at the side of the red-haired baroness. The drone pounces on the sergeant to pin him down to the ground. Once the pinning is successful, the drone will aim it's ice bolt to the sergeant face. Telling him not to move a muscle.

Ludvig shrugged with his arms, smug and indignant after that successful dodge.
For his reward, a musket round lands straight into his shoulder. He glances at the wound, then at the musketeer far off the distance that took the shot.

He simply let out a 'tsk' as he pulled the musket ball out of his wound, sprinkling some blood onto the scaffold. Promptly with the same hand, he presented the musketeers with a bloody middle finger.

Doubt they have a moment to spare noticing it, what with Mirielle already upon them. Now there was someone that actually shone like the sun, and apparently radiated such flames as well. If there ever was a poster child for the Order of the Golden Sun, it was definitely her.

Wait, were the two other shots for her? But she seemed fine.
Even that too felt nostalgic, seeing someone other than himself charge in towards ranged attackers with little self-care. Although back then they just used bows.
Nary an idea when to pinpoint the exact decade humanity made that particular advancement in weapon technology.

^{『 Ludvig 』}
Sobering from Mirielle's heavenly sight, his right hand flicked the bloodied musket ball at the lone soldier's head, aiming for an eye.

With that distraction, he spins again to attempt to disarm the poor bloke with a back heel kick straight to his wielding hand.
Then he dashes forward, trying to get around the soldier to apply a rear-naked choke while simultaneously 'healing'¹ him to drain his mana and inflict pain immense enough to make most of anyone pass out.

_{1『 Heavenly Dragon's Inverse Healing Palm 』}

The divine armor scattered into a million motes of light, rapidly dissipating as it trailed away in Mirielle's wake like the tail of a comet. It had done its job, allowing her to close in to the marksmen unharmed, and between her aura and combat expertise... they're not getting another shot.

Even if the burning sensation was relatively muted on these misguided fools, the full-body searing pain should be crippling enough that most people could only drop and writhe. Should they still stand she'd aim to debilitate, steel gauntlet and greaves striking the hands and shins. Her sword was the distraction, flickering forward in seemingly fatal feint only to create gaps in their defenses.

Rezello

---

Nearly two weeks had passed since the party had left Dragon's Maw behind and continued on their way into Tretagor. Plains eventualy gave way to forest, and though the rain that came with the change in scenery made Rezello wish that his armor's cape had included a hood, a bit of water was ultimately preferable to more of the vast emptiness that had surrounded them for most of their journey.

Within the last few days, the signs of the conflict in the region became apparent; blighted forest, buildings abandoned and left in ruin. The path they took brought them to a particularly unsightly scene; the remnants of a makeshift gallows, skeleton still hanging from a rudimentary crosspiece. Perhaps abandoned like the rest of the ruins they had passed by, or left there intentionally as some kind of warning. Whatever the case, as the party passed the hanging bones, smoke and a cry for help became visible and audible in the distance, and with Carmen leading the charge the group quickly made their way to the source.

A group of five soldiers and a prisoner they had taken, some of the former preparing to put the latter into another makeshift gallows. When the party arrived, the soldiers paused what they were doing and assumed defensive stances, clearly not expecting any visitors. While Carmen initially tried to reason with the men, it quickly became clear that wasn't going to work, especially when they started hanging their captive in the middle of their conversation.

Mirielle was the first to make a move, though Carnatia tried to stop her and insist upon diplomacy; a nice thought, perhaps, though given the predicament of the now suffocating man, they didn't exactly have the time to parley. While Rezello was thinking of what move to make next, Ludvig had already set upon a course of action; one moment he had set his hand upon Rezello, and in the next Rezello felt the world around him shift as he was suddenly moved in an instant to the other side of the sergeant, now on his feet.

As his mind caught up with his body, he heard Ludvig speak, realizing as he glanced at the man that he had already cut the prisoner loose. Turning to face the sergeant, whose focus was on attempting - and failing - to strike Carnatia, Rezello summoned his bec de corbin, swinging the hammer-head in a low sweeping motion at the man's legs as he stumbled backwards from Carnatia's counterattack.

---

Carnatia clicked her tongue as the sergeant forced her hand.

Very well then. An old adage of diplomacy was that it only worked if each of the sides respected the 'threat' of the other side enough. After all, if they did not feel the other side was a threat, why negotiate instead of merely taking what they wanted?

The sentiment that people wished to talk to solve issues diplomatically was a kind gesture, but a naive one. The truth about negotiation was that the strength projected by each side was an integral part of a successful—and fair—negotiation.

A show of force, then, was necessary.

She glanced at Linceleste's drone, which was subduing the sergeant. It seemed that one was handled for now.

Carnatia then turned her attention to the rest of the soldiers, as she leaped towards them.

Still. She would like to avoid killing them if possible. Better to avoid further troubles with whoever control this part of Sielse before they get the lay of the land.

While keeping mind of incoming shots or attacks, her focus sharpened, entering her Zen Focus state. Carnatia looked for a vulnerable spots in one of their limbs, not to kill them but certainly to cripple them, possibly for the rest of their life.

They could have walked away, or take up her offer for parley, but now that it came to this, a show of force it was.

---

Well now. After another couple week of monotonous travel, it wasn’t quite the same as the first grueling leg of their journey before the borders of Tetragor. At least then there was a more comfortable ride in the carriage. Riding horses was not an issue to Osric, but compared to the more table seats of the wagon, there was a clear winner. The barren plains and stiff weather didn’t help either. Even going for hours, the scare change in scenery made it feel like they made zero progress.

Luckily before the party suffered too much from highway hypnosis, the next location peaked the horizon. The edges of the forest stood out among the barren plains as a welcome change of scenery. The new environment even came with an event, something to take their minds off the nothingness of the once proud land. Six men, five of whom were of some faction. Playing judge and executioner, they strung up the sixth. A poor looking man begging for his life, claiming to know the information about Carmen’s lost paladin friend. To be honest, the man was probably desperate to live. But to be executed for the crimes the soldiers claimed was absurd.

Osric pulled his rifle from the straps on his back, holding it in both of his hands, muzzle down. In the sight of three other gunman, this probably wasn’t intimidating in the slightest, but that wasn’t the point. Osric needed it ready in case things escalated. And by the tone the sergeant was spouting his nonsense, it seemed very likely. Then in a flash Mirielle dashed forward, and Ludwig disappeared with Rezello. A drone of ice manifest and tackled the sergeant just as Carnatia’s negotiations failed. This was a mighty shit storm, and to be frank, Osric wasn’t sure who would take the blame for pulling the trigger first. Osric sighed, it didn’t matter too much in the end. With this few soldiers, he didn’t really need to involve himself at all. At least he could save some ammunition this way.

Four were attacking the musketeers. After firing their shots, it was very unlikely they would be able to fire another. Besides, the four of them were capable with training or experience to back up their abilities. With the drone pinning down the sergeant, Osric shouldered his rifle, aiming down to the last man standing. Carnatia was already moving to engage him. Taking a deep breath, Osric took a shot at the soldier’s weapon arm, attempting to form him to drop it. With the barrel still smoking, he pulled on the small lever on the rifle. A quick click and grind, the barrel was now pointed at the sergeant. Unlike the musketeers of that leader in red, Osric didn’t need to waste too much time preparing to fire again. The drone looked to have a weapon already trained on the sergeant. But just in case, it couldn’t hurt to have some backup in case the sergeant had something up his sleeve.

“Don’t even try it.” said Osric, awaiting what the sergeant might do to escape his current predicament with the drone. There was no guarantee that thing would be successful. At least with another threat with his rifle, Osric might make the man reconsider retaliation.

---

Tetragon was a quiet land. Plains, full of nothing but untapped potential. They reminded her of forest fires. The one she witnessed burned everything away to ash, but when she came back some half a century later, the forest was back again, brimming with far more life that it once did. Maybe this place was going throught the same, a destructive renewal that will change it for the better.

As they arrived at Sielse and seeing a strung-up skeleton,however, she was thinking it might just be a blight, of the Human variety. That was a perfectly usable corpse afteall, leaving it dangling like that was just depriving the land of it's nutrients. She hoped that it's flesh at least was used well.

Before she could ponder it more, Carmen led them on a chase after hearing some cries. After arriving, it seemed like the Natives where having some sort of dispute,which their presence disrupted.

It didn't however, stop the larger pack of Humans to continue and try to wastefully hang the lone Human.

After that, everything happened much too quick for her liking.

Ludwig disappear with Relezzo only to appear again and save the Hanging Man, before getting shot and choking someone.

Relezzo himself, along with Carmen,Osric and Lynx's cute spider pet where overwhelming the Steel-clad Human

While Mirielle charged at the shooters, some strange energy enveloping her, closely followed by Carnatia and Amaris

Mhh...
Looking at things more closely, it seemed her group weren't trying to end these Humans, just incapacitate them, so she should try to do the same.

Decision made, Amanita Rubbed her Cap a bit, coaxing her good spores out. Since they were gonna try and take them alive, it was probably a good idea not to poison them, before she slipped up and made a mistake.

After gathering a good amount, she blowed them at the group closing in the Musketeers. They seemed to have things handled, but she still didn't find anyone who disliked the empowering feeling of them, so she hoped they appreciated the gesture nonetheless.

Her part done, she moved on to do something far more important, satisfy her curiosity:

"The Spider is cute. What's it's name? She asked, Turning to look at her Lynx.