The Domino Effect - Rewrite

by Darksinner666 - alt

Forced into hiding, Sygil has no choice but to find a solution to his predicament before it is too late using unconventional means. But when his world comes crashing down and the clock is ticking, what is a real demon from outside of Yggdrasil to do? Well, build an Empire to rival any seen before to gain revenge, and crush any who would dare oppose him by any means necessary...

13. Fire and Fury

Disclaimer at start of First Chapter but again I do NOT own the rights to Overlord and its respective content.

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Hello ladies and gents, and welcome back to another brand new chapter! Sorry for the delay. I had some real-life responsibilities to take care of as priority. Additionally, I had to spend a significant amount of time to planning the next chapters ahead, as from this point on, the decisions and events that happen will play a significant role in shaping the plot. And the way things were shaping up, if I didn't spend that time to plan the next chapters out properly, I was going to write myself into disaster. Then, I would have to do an ACTUAL rewrite instead of this re-edit I just finished.

*Shudder* Just patching dialogue was a pain in the ass. No way am I rewriting whole plot lines. Nuh-uh. What I post, is what I'll live with.

Now, fortunately, I have resolved all the plot bunnies and culled their population to a much more manageable size, and have been baiting out the rest with a carrot on the stick (i.e., very rough overall draft of basic scenes and plots). We are on track and manageable!

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To Dan05: I don't want to say, but damn man, you are on the right track, but not entirely correct. You might find out soon enough though, good guesswork ;). Oh, and absolutely. Gallheia MUST suffer, that insufferable bitch XD

To mbarbiba: No free cookie, sadly. It's not Agent 47 from Hitman. However, you are on the right track. It is a video game character with a similar namesake. There similarities are quite similar between Quantum 47 and the character it is based off of. It's less a rip off, and more of an excessive fandom nod to a fun character. Keep searching and guessing, and you'll get that free cookie. Ah, why bother, have the free cookie since you're so awesome! Also, thank you for your patience with the delayed upload.

To morganvb: Thank you for you patience! Yes, I intend to release a chapter a week for at least the next 3-4 weeks. I'll see how it goes after that based on chapter size as well as real-life. Uni will be starting up soon, so that'll be a bummer in a couple weeks :/ But, we shall press on with the current schedule, this time without delays hopefully lol.

To guest: While feedback is appreciated, could you please be a little more specific, as that isn't a lot for me to work off of?

To all the other great readers that have made it this far, thank you for your patience with the recent delay, and without further adieu, may you enjoy this latest chapter. :D

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Suggested age rating: M

- Strong bloody violence

- Blood and gore

- Some strong language

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Chapter 13: Fire and Fury

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3 weeks later (~35 months before arrival of Momonga)

It had been three weeks since Reginold had left Merigold, taking his caravan of goods with him. He promised to return in a couple months time when he finished his route and restocked.

Meanwhile, Maxmillian had conducted a thorough interrogation on the still captive Clair, gleaming as much information about the world's understanding and capabilities of Tier magic, as well as wild magic.

Much to the reassurance of Sygil, the rumours initially learned in the inn on the second night had proved considerably accurate. The residents of the new world were incapable of performing Tier magic beyond Tier 6, with the only exception being a man in the Baharuth empire. While the name eluded Clair, it was of little consequence currently.

In terms of Tier magic, Tier 4 was considered the absolute professional pinnacle, so rarely achieved that very few such individuals did exist. Tier 1 alone was difficult for many mages, but there would always be the prodigies amongst the masses capable of so much more.

The couple were still kept locked in their cages outside, with the elements wearing away at both them and their clothes, which were by now filthy and tattered. Both had shown signs of starting to lose some weight, but were otherwise still in the healthy range according to Quantum.

Sygil had thought about disposing them, but the potential for establishing connections or even simple ransom were opportunities that stayed his hand. Otherwise, he had little care for their well-being.

Since Reginold had left, Quantum had used the available resources to create three drone assistants at a very meagre Level 14. The drones had assisted in starting to industrialise the mines, which had considerably expanded in the short period of time.

More townsfolk had been recruited into working in the mines, bringing the total labour capacity to 24 individuals, not counting the automatons.

Copper, gold, iron and rare mineral veins had been slowly unearthed, with the valuable ores being stockpiled in an excavated storage room in the mines.

Quantum had left a small demihuman guard detail to watch over the forcefully conscripted humans, while he had converted the resident trades and blacksmiths conjoined buildings into a single industrial centre.

Sufficient levelling on Quantum's part had unlocked the capability for him to create steam-powered equipment. While technological jumps via mere experimentation were possible, Sygil had been informed that the quickest way to advance was to maximise Quantum's levels, therefore unlocking more and more technological capabilities.

It was a contrived process, but Sygil simply surrendered to the absurd fact.

So long as we can quickly advance out of the stone age, were Quantum's glorious creator's words.

So, Quantum had set to constructing a large industrial furnace capable of mass smelting of the ores, with several foundries and work benches to immediately work on the metals in alloying them before smithing quality armour, swords, shields and whatever other essential materials/items were needed.

Sygil had relented, albeit in disappointment, that he would not be able to advance straight to manufacturing firearms. However, he also had to concede with reality. He was not yet fully established or sufficiently supplied with materials and manpower to achieve such an early feat, not to mention Quantum's limitations. Quantum had reassured him that he was only one level away from unlocking gunpowder, and by extension the ability to research firearms starting with muskets.

Salt-peter, charcoal and sulphur, listed Sygil irritably, much to Quantum's amusement. However, unlocking the levels would allow for quick mass production of the weapons Sygil desired, so he agreed to be patient and wait.

That still left the demihuman army under-armed and under-equipped. Hence, Quantum had been commissioned to oversee the manufacture of swords, knives, shields and steel armour for them. Leather armour was also being produced by several skilled townspeople.

The demi-humans that he freed had only tattered rags for clothes. That was quick to change.

Within the first week, they were equipped clean clothes and basic leather armour.

They were quick to protest, preferring their more tribal and minimalistic clothes from their days under Gallheia. Sygil, however, tolerated none of it. He was quick to explain the benefits of proper armour, and after a demonstration, they begrudgingly accepted.

Their experience with poorly trained militia had misguided them to believe full-body armour was useless, but now they had a somewhat better appreciation for its benefits. Provided, of course, that there was good quality investments in its durability, practicality, and freedom of motion.

By the end of the third week, Fort-Seven was beginning to roll out the beginnings of basic steel armour. It was manufactured with the beginnings of discovered Aluminum deposits to add to its light weight, while iron and bronze was alloyed into the metal to provide greater hardness and strength.

Of course, the armour was limited in its quantity. This was in part due to the mining only just beginning, but also due to the limited work capacity of the miners, their equipment, and Forty-Seven's level limitations.

Quantum had shown a notable increase in levelling, and was now currently residing at Level 34. At the request of Sygil, Quantum had begun isolating and storing a range of minerals and ingredients to break down into their elemental form. This way, he could have everything needed to effectively manufacture gunpowder, chemicals and acids needed for oxidation and more, as well as quickly progressing to more advanced chemicals and compounds. Sygil was eager for the eventual production of smokeless powder, and Quantum could easily understand why. It was indeed superior to black powder, which was subject to fouling guns, was more visible to opponents, and was ultimately not the most powerful. But, it was a necessary start.

Hans had taken to overseeing the demihumans and mercenaries, having them conduct joint training exercises as well as start converting several buildings in the main town street into a barracks, before assisting Quantum in constructing a rude laboratory.

By crude, it was essentially renovating a pre-existing building and sanitising it as best as possible with the limited materials and chemicals available so that Sygil could conduct his experiments in producing a cure for his Holy injury, while Quantum could have a place to research and experiment with various chemicals and materials in producing different products of interest.

Maxmillian had taken the remaining townspeople and had them work on constructing a perimeter wall as a basic first line of defense. The wall only surrounded just outside the town itself, leaving the fields vulnerable.

The wall was simple, made from an amalgamation of sharpened wooden posts that extended over five metres, and stone and mortar which provided a more solid defensive foundation. Parapets were being added to the stone walls, with the added height advantage solidifying the defences and providing a greater range of vision.

A large wooden gate was constructed at the main entrance facing the fields, while a smaller door supported by a stone archway and wall was built at the back of the town facing the forest.

Perhaps the most remarkable thing to note about the wall was the sheer speed in which it had been constructed.

Sygil also wanted a large guard-tower to be constructed, but that would take more time and resources than he currently had the manpower to afford.

As such, that idea was on the back burner until the wall was finished.

Compliance amongst the demihumans had painstakingly improved, which was to say they were loyal to Sygil, but still maintained their past reservations. The townsfolk, however, were less enthusiastic about being conscripted into their new roles, but had little say in the matter. Maxmillian and Hans saw to that, and any discontent that threatened to escalate to dissent was harshly dealt with. After a couple weeks, the residents were quick to understand so long as they contributed to the work effort, life was otherwise normal. The new occupiers were not merciless slavers, and rest and reprieve was permitted. However, the hours were long and the labour hard. To further maximise their progress, shifts were rostered 24/7 to ensure there was always a group on duty.

---

Quantum was currently in his 'primitive' laboratory, using newly-created steel equipment to take specific measurements.

Quantum was creating more glassware to store future synthetic chemicals and compounds. Graduated funnels, flasks, beakers, test tubes and more.

The Grand Creator Sygil had also requested some glassware to compound some initial herbal remedies. Quantum, of course, complied with diligent fervour, ensuring they were produced as quickly as possible.

Once he finished his current task, Quantum intended to look at advancing alternative power sources, instead of solely relying on the newly crafted steam-powered engine.

While it helped with the automated smelting and other industrial processes, it was not the most efficacious nor preferable method.

No, he intended on upgrading to carbon fuel sources. Once he levelled up to Level 40, he would unlock the ability to begin research into basic fuel sources and the early stages of electricity.

It was slow and an annoyance, but his current levels severely were impeding his ability to upgrade and progress everything. That was the other thing.

His levelling was beginning to slow down as he advanced further in his abilities. He was currently relegated to base building, mining and simple manufacturing until sufficient levels were achieved. In order to start manufacturing an army as per his Lords request, he would need to reach Level 75 minimum. Level 90 he could produce an efficient army and Level 100 he would be able to maximise its entire capabilities. That was not to say of the additional research points he needed to invest in to upgrade the army to the modern technological standards.

He could unlock gunpowder research and advancements at Level 35, and early muskets at level 40. From there, he would need to allocate mana and XP to upgrade the technological aspects of both advancements, which would divert time and resources from actual levelling. However, insufficient levelling also meant he would be unable to progress beyond a certain point with his research. It was a tight, vicious cycle. Therefore, he needed to analyse and micromanage every advancement to ensure the quickest and most efficacious route to technologically advancing towards a more modernised empire as per his Creators directives.

It would, unfortunately, take time. At the current rate of advancement with the current available resources and labour, it would take four years to fully upgrade everything to the maximum level possible.

That was simply unacceptable.

So, Quantum had taken the liberty of applying shortcut methods to speed the ranking up process. This included investing in creating summons which could help contribute mana and XP directly to him as they worked, gaining experience. Hence, the more summons directly created, the more xp and mana he could create.

Fortunately, the industrial processes themselves didn't require mana/xp, only the actual research advancements via the Levelling system.

It was essentially like being gifted a recipe. No-one knows how to bake the specific cake until the recipe is acquired, which happened once he reached a sufficient level.

Once that level is achieved, the recipe is directly handed to him, which he can share and mass produce for anyone of any level to use. Therefore, even a simple meatbag native to this world would have the recipe to bake the exact cake presented. The only limitations would be physical capacity and time. Oh, and of course the fact that the primitive meatbags wouldn't be able to fully understand the recipe itself. But that was inconsequential. These upgrades were intended only for Lord Sygil and his summons, unless he deemed otherwise.

Frankly, the whole system operated like a game. Though, Quantum would probably never know how close to the truth he was with that idle thought.

There was something curious about the whole process, however. Quantum already had the knowledge, right through to Level 100. The problem was he couldn't access it. It was like each level acted as a key to unlock a door to a new room filled with more information.

Quantum hypothesised that there could be a way to cheat the system and essentially 'pick' the locks, but there was also the possibility that without sufficient upgrades to his very being that came with each level, he could overload his motherboard with the excess of information unlocked.

Still, in order to pick said locks, he needed to have sufficient understanding of how they worked, which would likely only be unveiled through, again, Levelling Up….

Such a pesky system.

A familiar ping let him know it had finally happened.

"Ah. Now at Level 35. Took long enough," droned the synthetic voice.

He dropped what he was doing, walking over to an opposite bench.

The drones are doing their job in covering for other duties and helping me rank up. I just need to produce more of them and then I can expedite this whole process.

Sadly, he would have to wait until later before he could create more drones.

First thing was to use the recent collection of XP to unlock the next Advancement: Gunpowder.

It fascinated him how, after unlocking an advancement, a wealth of knowledge would come flowing through to him, barebones as it was.

The advancements were more of a stepping stone to enable him to understand basic concepts. It was ultimately up to him to delve deeper and further along a specific advancement branch to improve upon it.

Which he would do given time with this gunpowder.

Having the the materials present under Lord Sygil's recommendation was going to make his next task much easier. After all, all he needed to do was apply the new data unlocked.

With mechanical ease, he quickly organised the charcoal, the salt-peter, extracted from the residents waste (a crude process, but eventually they could upgrade to something less repulsive), and sulphur he had available. The sulphur had come from the mines when an accidental salt bed was found. It was discouragingly small, but it would be enough to give the necessary kick-start for the operation required until ore industrial means could be acquired.

The final ingredient was the potassium nitrate, which also came from near the salt bed that the sulphur was extracted from, with a small fissure in the earth providing some. Quantum had the workers expand on the fissure to find more natural minerals. There had been some small luck, but currently the quantities mined were insufficient for large-scale operations. In a couple weeks, they would be able to expand even more, though, so that was not too much of an issue.

Once he had the glass jars containing each in their raw format laid out on the bench before him, all he needed to do was grind everything into a coarse powder; the finer, the better.

There should be a mortar and pestle around here.

A quick scan revealed the items required.

He grabbed the sealed jar containing the charcoal, emptying as much of its contents as could possible fit into the mortar.

Setting the jar aside, he delicately clasped the pestle in his hand and poised it above the charcoal, ready to grind it into oblivion.

With gentle motions, he began grinding the charcoal.

As his automatic processes took over, he diverted more processing power to calculating the required masses for each ingredient, as well as how to prepare each individually before combining.

As he ran through the steps required, he suddenly discovered a setback to the process which would impede his progress– CRaCk

Quantum stopped his grinding motions, his optic sensors flickering to focus on the now shattered mortar.

Observation: The inferior meatbag-made contraption is now broken.

A meatbag would have let out an uncharacteristic angry curse at such a predicament, but he instead diverted his focus onto cleaning up the mess now made.

It still didn't stop him from processing his disgruntlement as he multitasked.

I need isopropyl alcohol to finish the reaction. I do not have isopropyl alcohol ready.

That was unfortunate.

Perhaps I shall substitute with ethanol.

That would require the production of ethanol, however. He ran some quick diagnostics on how to easily synthesis ethanol, and based on the availability of certain natural ingredients, it was feasible to manufacture it.

As Quantum approached a shelf containing more jarred ingredients for him to select, the door to the laboratory suddenly opened, with Hans' visage becoming visible as he entered.

"Greetings Hans. What brings you to my laboratory," the deep drone of Quantum's vocoder coming off as somewhat demonic.

Hans looked around briefly, before redirecting his focus on to Quantum.

"I'm collecting progress reports on everything to present to Lord Sygil. What is the status of your duties?"

Quantum grabbed several jars, the faint mechanical whirring of his servomotors and the light clunking of his footsteps penetrating the silence before he spoke.

"I have upgraded to level 35, and am now conducting experiments on primitive gunpowder as per requested."

Hans nodded in satisfaction.

"Understood. And how are your drones faring?"

Quantum set the jars down, opening their contents.

"The drones are operating at peak efficiency, with the accumulated XP through their activities still being delivered to me. Levelling up is beginning to show signs of slowing down, which will impede future progress times. I will be creating more drones to expand and increase production acitivity and Levelling systems tomorrow."

Hans nodded.

"Excellent. Are there any other current setbacks?"

"Negative."

"Then I shall take my leave and report to Lord Sygil. Continue your duties."

Had any other organic said those exact same words, Quantum would have been tempted to form a lobotomy on them for their insolence. However, Hans, Maxmillian, and their glorious Creator Lord Sygil were exempt.

Quantum shared no further words as the door closed behind Hans, continuing his tasks.

As the meatbags would say, it was going to be a long day.

---

Quantum was not the only one enduring such thought processes. Sygil glared at the herbs and apothecary supplies organised before him on his own table.

Sunlight filtered in through open windows, illuminating the room that was stripped bare of any furniture save for a pair of adjacent benches that he was standing in between, and an array of shelves on each wall that were slowly starting to become filled with materials.

Several extinguished lanterns lay throughout the room for when night would arrive.

Sygil now had the initial supplies needed to, hypothetically, start producing a simple remedy or more for his Holy injury. However, his ignorance in Yggdrasil had led to him discarding the formulas as useless jibberish as many of the ingredients did not exist in the real world.

Now, he was faced with a new, more pressing dilemma.

What the fuck am I supposed to do with all this?!

He had a vague understanding of everything's value and use, but in terms of application, he was lost.

Ugh. I wish I had some of those damn books here. They could really help me out…

Alas, this was the hand he was dealt, so he no choice but to play along with it and make it as good as possible.

He glanced at his clenched, gloved hands, before relenting and rubbing a hand through his recently slicked back hair.

He had spent some time to properly clean himself up, washing the dried bits of blood and dirt form his clothes, as well as maintaining some basic hygiene. While he might be living in a medieval world, he was certainly not going to lower his standards. He was a ruler. A businessman, and a professional. As such, cosmetic visages were important to maintain.

Yggdrasil was a confusing experience, defying the fabric of reality in many ways.

However, since his arrival in the New World, he had learnt his abilities from Yggdrasil carried over, as well as his summons.

By that standard, perhaps there were certain skills or magic even that he could perform to help him make the remedies he needed, or better yet, actually cure his affliction?

It was a possibility, however, it was also a likely futile one.

While he had managed to 'Level Up' as Momonga had mentioned, he never really bothered to invest in any abilities or skills, diverting all of his time and efforts into researching a supposed dead-end.

Essentially, it meant while he was technically Level 85 or something by Yggdrasil standards, he was only a barebones player, having not invested anything. Essentially, a Level 85 player could technically easily trounce him in terms of Yggdrasil abilities. The only way he would prove victorious is through his original shadows and demonic attributes.

That was another potential thought to entertain, as well. If he had arrived, as well as Yggdrasil abilities, had anyone or anything else from Yggdrasil arrive also?

And if that was the case, would it pose a potential threat?

It was merely a thought, but considering the reality of his current predicament, it was not something he should be so eager to disregard.

He was broken from his musings by the sound of a door opening, followed by approaching footsteps that sharply stopped.

"Hans reporting, sir!"

Sygil tiredly glanced at the saluting NPC standing rigidly at attention.

"Yes, Hans?"

"I have gathered the latest updates on local developments, sir."

Sygil turned around fully to face him, leaning back on the bench.

"Well, tell me what you've got."

I honestly can go for the break.

"Forty-Seven has finally unlocked Level 35, and is beginning experimentation on gunpowder. The mines are operating at peak capacity, but are set to continue expanding.

"He also mentioned that he will be creating more drones tomorrow to help the levelling up process, as well as to expand on production."

Well, that actually is good news.

Sygil felt somewhat relieved that at least progress was being made on another front.

Soon, we can have electricity, firearms and eventually automated defense systems. And to top it off, then I can have an army created soon.

"Unfortunately," continued Hans. "The levelling progression is slowing down. In order to continue our progression at at least an even, let alone exponential, rate, we will need to rapidly expand our base, manufacturing capacities and manpower."

"Of course. I intend that, Hans. What about the demihumans?"

"They are complying well sir, and given some proper food and time to train, their skills have been re-honed. They are training with the mercenaries to improve joint operations. Their have been some minor issues between the two, but they have been sorted out."

Sygil frowned. "I suppose you can't expect any bad blood to fully disappear."

He glanced up at his subordinate.

"It won't become a problem, will it?"

"No sir. While they express their differences, they are cooperating."

That is good. Last thing I need is them killing each other right now.

"The main difficulties have come from some of the residents, sir."

Sygil shot an eyebrow up.

"Oh really? Do tell."

"Some are still upset at being forced into labour jobs, as well as the seizure of personal property and assets. While most have complied and realise their situation, some feel they are being treated… unfairly."

"Do you know who they are?"

"I am currently looking into it as we speak sir."

Sygil nodded slowly.

"Very well. Will that become a potential problem in the foreseeable future?"

"If they inspire anyone to dissent, then there is potential sir. At this stage, it is merely the disgruntled musings of the few that are bitter."

Sygil stood straight and paced towards Hans.

"Root them out, and educate them on the consequences of dissent. I will not be sabotaged by a few insolent, fat, men that are complaining about having to work."

Hans nodded firmly.

"Of course, sir!"

"Are there any other developments?"

"Yes sir. The demihuman army is just about equipped with the new weapons and armour. The final batch is being readied for distribution as we speak now, sir."

Sygil felt a satisfied smile work its way onto his feature.

"Excellent. Then we are nearly on track. How goes progress on the wall?"

"Slow, sir. The front and back walls and gates are complete, but we still need to strengthen the eastern wall."

"And how long will that take? I don't want us to be entirely vulnerable forever."

"It could still take another week to finish the wall sir."

At least we have established a basic army.

"If I may sir, how are your experiments going sir?"

Instantly, Sygil felt his irritation began to bubble. Less so at Hans, and more at his ineptitude in actually creating the remedy he needed.

"Just dandy," he spat out, glaring at the ingredients strewn out on the bench.

"I have the starting point for my remedies, but I have no idea on how to go about using them, or what should be used with what to produce the remedies I need."

"Sir?" Hans' expression adopted a more concerned look.

Surely I misheard. Lord Sygil doesn't know what to do with them….? Impossible.

There was no conceivable way that his illustrious creator –

"I said, I have no fucking idea."

Hans suddenly realised his mouth was slightly agape, and promptly closed it.

Sygil glanced at him slowly.

"Do you remember any specific recipes from Yggdrasil, by chance?"

Hans would later berate himself for his momentary surprise, but after a second to realise what Sygil had said, he was quick to jump in.

"Of course sir! Did you wish my assistance in creating some potions for Holy wounds?"

"That would help a significant amount," replied Sygil, slowly moving to the side to give Hans some room at the bench.

Hans took the cue and quickly strode forth, glancing at the ingredients, eyes darting around predatorily as he sized each item up.

"Ah. I believe this one needs to be ground first, and then dissolved in water before mixing it with the Alarosacea. Next, you heat it until it melts to a paste, before rehydrating with the extracted juice from the Jaklan Roots sir. Then, you have to, if I'm correct, infuse 45 mana from a Healer's Attribute into the solution. That should give you a small elixir that you can consume once, before having to remake it. Sir."

Had I known the process was that complex to begin with, then I would have just killed myself to spare the agony of dealing with this horseshit.

"Okay, stop. What do you mean I have to infuse mana?"

Hans looked at him quizzically.

"Sir, you need to use the mana to give the potion the necessary combative strength to successfully combat a Holy poison. Otherwise, the ingredients in this recipe will otherwise be useless."

What. The. Fuck?! Why can't I just do some simple compounding like a god-damn normal person! Now I need to use Mana?!

"Perhaps there is an alternative recipe we can look at that doesn't require Mana?" he suggested.

Hans placed a forefinger and thumb under his chin, pondering any alternatives.

"Hmm. There are a couple recipes, but I don't believe we have all of the necessary ingredients, sir."

As much as Sygil would have loved to dispute it with Hans, if only to selfishly save any further effort and tie, he knew it was likely the truth.

While he managed to score a decent scoop from Reginold, he didn't acquire everything he needed to open up a large range of options to choose from.

He had to put his faith in Hans' opinion, even if it wasn't necessarily desireable.

"That's unfortunate. Would you be able to work with what we have?"

Hans looked surprised, but was quick to compose himself.

"I… could sir. Though, I cannot guarantee it would be the most effective product. After all, not all of the best ingredients are here sir."

Sygil could help but give a defeated sigh.

"I'm well aware. Never mind. I think I would much prefer some fresh air right now."

Sygil suddenly strode past Hans, who was quick to follow him dutifully.

"You mentioned that the wall is not yet fully completed on the eastern wall? Mind giving me a tour to see for myself? I haven't checked in a while."

"Of course sir."

---

Alizia felt more and more nervous with each passing day. There were no threats or attacks from anyone, both internal and external, since Sygil had taken control.

She watched as the wall was being constructed. It would be difficult for any invading force to enter now unless they had significant numbers. That, or they managed to sneak in through the back gate.

Therefore, she entrusted only the most loyal of her mercenaries to guard the rear gate, with explicit orders. She was confident they would fulfil their duties and do what was required of them. Of that, she was certain.

What she wasn't certain about was the overall strength of the demihumans that Sygil was now arming.

There was no denying their strength and skills were easily on par with her best mercenaries, probably even better. It was their ability to hold out against an opposing army. She questioned their resilience, having seen the complete fervor and dedication to training. Add to the fact that they had trained as warriors for most of their lives prior to their capture and enslavement, they were a formidable force to be reckoned with.

All she could do was hope.

---

Hope was the only thing the acting foreman for the construction of the wall could do when Hans and that monster approached him.

He quickly stepped past the pile of bricks, wooden planks and workers that were steadily working away. Wiping some of the sweat and dirt off of his forehead, he strode towards the approaching men.

"Greetings, sirs. What can I do fer ya?"

Perhaps his normally jovial tone was a tad too enthusiastic, but he would rather stay on Sygils good side and avoid being shredded to pieces by his pet demons. He was one of the first residents to wake up in the early morning hours to the sounds of screaming and beasts roaring.

The sight of so much blood from the mercenaries was branded into his memory.

Internally shuddering, he refocused his attention on the two men.

"We're here for an inspection on progress of the wall. How is the eastern wall coming along?" Hans called out, hands folded behind his back as Sygil glanced around slowly, chin held high.

"Ah. We're still working on strengthening the interior supports. We're about a week's off from finishing the whole thing."

He clasped his strong arms over his rotund belly, his beady eyes darting between the two. Years of construction of buildings had built his strength up, but right now, he didn't feel overly strong in the presence of this… this… this murderer.

Sygil stepped forth, looking up at the wall still underway.

"And it will hold against any attack? I'd hate for it to crumble when I most need it," commented Sygil dryly.

The foreman started fidgeting with his rustic beard.

"Well, so long as it's not an army arriving with catapaults, it ought to hold. Once it's completed of course. These exposed support beams, if they were to break, would cause a good section of this part of the wall to collapse. Once everything is put in place and we apply the mortar to hold it together, it will hold quite nicely." He was quick to reassure Sygil upon seeing is frown.

"Then we are on schedule," smiled Sygil in satisfaction.

"Would you mind walking me through the entire wall and informing me of what is done, and any further improvements planned," inquired Sygil gently. It was that very gentle tone that unnerved the foreman, but regardless, he was diligent to reply.

"Of course, right this way," he bowed his head before leading the two along the interior of the wall, pointing out areas that were completed but would need updating to eventually make more impervious.

Sygil understood the necessity for further improvements, but at this stage, a wall was a wall, and he could only afford so much currently. Once the wall was complete and he had more resources, which were steadily piling up, then he would look a further reinforcing the wall. Still, he let the foreman ramble on.

By now, they had wandered to the north gate, which was currently shut. Directly outside of the north gate lie miles of wheat and grain fields, their height and straw colour indicating that harvest was close.

The fields folded over a small hill before leading into flat ground. As such, there was no real visibility beyond the hill, therefore Sygil had patrols established to overwatch his property.

There were no parapets on his walls currently due to the initial shortage of available stone and mortar. As such, there were no guards on top of the wall, which was a shame, as it would have offered better protection.

Oh well, soon I'll be able to, once they finish the wall.

Having a complete perimeter wall was more priority at the moment. Besides, he would soon have the people install guard towers to overlook the town and surrounding property.

Soon, it will all come to fruition.

Progress might have been a bit slow, but there was no denying that there had been progress at all.

The foreman spoke up, breaking his internal monologuing.

"And here, all we've got to do once we finish and get more materials, is reinforce these wooden doors. Add the parapets now that we are getting a bit a stockpile forming, and it ought to be well enough to hold a siege."

Sygil nodded absent-mindly, opting to look at the stone wall frame encompassing the heavy wooden double-gate.

"How long will it take to build several sentry towers in the mean-time?"

"Oh, um…" stumbled the foreman, running a quick mental check.

"Well, with the labour you've given me, and the steady influx of building materials, I'd reckon about, er, a couple days fer one sentry tower. Unless you want a stone guard tower?" He trailed off cautiously.

Sygil waved his question away s he stepped back from the wall to get a better general look, the two following him out into the open.

"I'll have a guard tower installed as well, but until the parapets are done, I want several sentry towers constructed for archers."

The foreman nodded as Sygil addressed Hans.

"We already have several foot patrols around the base and fields, so we can get a head's up if we were to be attacked."

"Most definitely sir. With the joint training exercises conducted, their chances of surviving and holding their own are maximised."

Sygil let his lips faintly curl upwards.

"Then all it is is just a matter of waiting until – " "Lord Sygil!"

Everyone turned their heads collectively to witness Maxmillian approaching with a brisk pace.

"What is it Maxmillian?" Shot Sygil as Maxmillian approached closer. The uniformed NPC came to an abrupt halt in front of Sygil.

"Sir, there appears to be an issue of interest that has just cropped up."

Sygil felt his head tilt.

"Issue?"

"Sir, one of the earlier patrols on the northern fields have failed to change back in for an hour. I dispatched a second group to follow up, but they have failed to report back in."

Hans looked at him sharply "You think they were ambushed?"

"Possibly. However, it is just as likely that they have either slacked off or worse yet, gone AWOL."

Sygil groaned as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Great. Hans."

"Yes sir?"

"Take a small group with you and go investigate what happened. Maxmillian, put everyone else on high alert."

Maxmillian nodded his head.

"Right away sir –" "What's that sound?"

Everyone glanced at the foreman, who was looking around strangely, a puzzled look plastered across his portly face.

"What sound?" questioned Sygil. But then, he heard it too.

It was like a faint whistling sound, though rapidly getting louder.

What on earth….?

However, he no longer needed to ponder the mystery when it revealed itself.

The arrows started to impact all around them, embedding in the dirt, in the houses, and anyone unfortunate enough to be in their path.

Fire and smoke billowed from their tips.

The foreman's look of absolute surprise died as quickly as him as a flaming arrow shot through the top of his skull, lodging itself out the back of his head.

He crumpled to the ground in a pathetic heap.

Sygil's eyes widened fro a brief second, before he reacted.

"Shit, we're under attack?!"

Himself and the two NPCs wasted no time in running back up against the wall in an attempt to take cover from the onslaught.

They practically threw themselves up against the safety of the wall as flaming arrows flew overhead, like a dark cloud of death.

The arrows didn't seem to stop, hundreds impacting on the ground. Sygil watched a small three-man patrol of mercenaries inside the base scramble to take cover against the same wall, with one being unfortunate as several arrows tore through his limbs and chest.

Sygil was surprised how loud the onslaught was as he glanced at his two subordinates.

"What the hell is going on?! Are we being attacked by bandits?!"

No way, there is way too man arrows! As he second-guessed himself, Maxmillian called out.

"If they are, then that has to be the equivalent size of an army!"

By now, screams could be heard inside the town as fires started to burn from the arrows.

Sygil glanced at the two mercenaries braced against the wall.

"What the hell is going on, who's attacking us?!"

One mercenary called out as his companion flinched at several close impacts..

"We don't know! We're just as confused as you!"

"Dammit!" Snarled Sygil, before shooting a look at Maxmillian.

"I think I know what happened to our patrol."

"How the hell didn't any of the other patrols not inform us though?! They couldn't have all been killed?" Shot Hans towards Maxmillian.

By now, the arrows had stopped, granting everyone a chance to regain their bearings. However, the temporary peace was short-lived, as the front gate double-doors suddenly exploded inwards, showering the surrounding area with wood splinters, rock and mortar as the stone archway began to crack.

Miraculously, it held despite the damage, but the doors were trashed, with one blown out in towards the base and the other swung inwards on its hinges.

Sygil glanced at his men cautiously, when suddenly he could hear it.

The growing thunder of hooves became more aggressive with each passing second.

Sygil carefully approached the destroyed gate, and leaned around the door to take a quick peek. The sight made his eyes widen open with shock.

---

Recommended Song: Dies Irae - Giuseppe Verdi's Requiem

---

Over a thousand armoured men carrying swords at the ready riding warhorses were charging directly towards the front gate.

The fields were trampled under their cavalry charge, kicking up large swathes of dirt, with plumes of loose dirt rising high into the sky behind them.

He could make out several flag banners amidst their midst, many of which were the same. The armour reflected the same silver sheen off the sun, indicating a standard uniform of sorts.

Seeing enough, Sygil ducked his back in, shouting out to Hans and Maxmillian.

"We've got an incoming cavalry charge! Over a thousand men!"

Sygil stepped back, summoning his spiked chain, coiling it around a free hand with its menacing hand being swung experimentally.

Hans and Maxmillian produced their officer sabres.

"Hans! Get the rest of our forces out now! Coordinate the defences and plug the eastern wall up. We can't let them slip through!"

"On it sir!" With that, Hans took off.

"You two!" he bellowed out to the mercenaries huddled against the wall. They glanced at him, adrenaline pumping through them at anticipation of the fight.

"Get me archers in the buildings. Now! When they push through this gate, and they will, we'll be otherwise overrun. And someone get the workers to quickly throw together some barricades through the streets, working from the main mansion as our fallback point. Hurry!"

They nodded in affirmation, sprinting in separate directions to fulfil their duties.

"Maxmillian, torch the gate to slow them down. If there's too much fire, they won't be all able to push through, and those that do, we can pick off more easily." His chain glinted dangerously as it hung, promising death to its victims.

He barely registered Maxmillians affirmation as he cast spell unlike the standard Fireball.

"{Inferno}".

The archway suddenly erupted in a bright ball of fire, golden flames hungrily reaching out to the top of the archway and around to the surrounding wall, eager to consume anything that came in its path.

And not a moment too soon, as the first cavalry riders began to pour through, caught in the inferno as the horses suddenly screeched in pain, their flesh instantly boiling.

Outside the gateway, many other horses could be heard whinnying in panic as they abruptly stopped, their riders either starting to hold defensive positions.

About five riders and their armoured steeds managed to break through, only to be met by death.

Sygils spiked chain spun in an upwards arc through, tearing through the first mounts jaw, ripping through bone, steel and flesh with no sign of stopping. The spiked chain's momentum carried through, decapitating the horses head in a grisly fashion, before connecting with the riders throat and tearing his helmeted head off.

Blood, fire and gore exploded everywhere in an upwards arc as the burning steed crashed into the ground.

Meanwhile, Maxmillian swung his sabre with incredible strength, the thin blade defying expectation and cleanly severing through another horses neck and carrying through in bisecting its rider.

With a fanciful twirl to carry the momentum through, Maxmillian impaled his sabre into the midriff of another rider, who let out a pained gurgle.

Sygil swung his chain out at the legs of another charging horse, tearing them off, crashing the mount as it screeched in agony, and catapaulting its rider directly towards Sygil.

The armoured rider landed face down directly at his feet, and Sygil wasted no time in swinging his spiked chain into the helpless mans head, flattening and cracking the steel helmet and exploding blood and gristle everywhere onto the ground.

Maxmillian quickly dispatched the remaining rider.

The inferno at the gateway was a significant deterrent to the invading force as it temporarily halted them from entering through the front gate. However, Sygil could hear the thunder of hooves as the warhorses started to surround the walls.

In a few seconds, they would discover the weakness at the eastern wall.

"Shit. They're going to flank us. Go reinforce the eastern wall. I'll deal with any stragglers that try to push through here."

"As you command sir!"

Maxmillian raced off towards the eastern wall.

Mere seconds later, Trisha came running towards him with about ten demihumans equipped with bows, their quivers maxed with arrows.

Sygil skipped any formalities, barking out orders instead.

"I want archers in buildings throughout this street," he gestured to the main road leading from the destroyed gate through to the inn.

"Kill anyone that pushes through. Move quickly. This fire isn't going to stall them for long," he gestured to the front gate that was ablaze.

The archers nodded and scattered to the nearby buildings, practically kicking the front doors open and racing upstairs towards windows for a good vantage point.

"Trisha," he called out, the woman glancing at him.

"Where are the rest of our defenders?"

"Your Hans has taken fifteen warriors to the eastern wall, the rest are being mobilised to the mansion as a reserve for either the gate or the wall, whichever needs the reinforcements. Archers have been posted in nearby buildings to the eastern wall, with a couple more near the town centre as a fallback stage. The residents that are still alive have been called back to the mansion to construct barricades throughout the streets, or otherwise take up arms."

"And where are the fucking mercenaries?!"

"Right here boss!"

At that moment, about five mercenaries ran around a burning building to Sygil, melee weapons drawn.

They came to a halt in front of Sygil and Trisha.

"Good. Get ready for a breach at the front gate, and for some shit fighting."

The mercenaries glanced at each other uncertainly, but reluctantly took up positions near the street, forming a roadblock for any invaders.

Sygil tuned out the sound of hooves, war-cries, the crackle of fire and burning timber inside the town, and the screams permeating all around him, even behind - ?!

Behind?

Sygil whipped his head around to see behind. The sight that greeted him did little to reassure him.

At the far end of the street, slowly filtering from a side street that led to the back gate, armed men wearing suits of uniformed armour were rushing through, cutting down anyone in their way indiscriminately.

"We've been flanked already? But the eastern wall should still be held right now?"

Unless it wasn't the eastern wall they came through. That left only one remaining place. But that meant…

"Fuck," he snarled, catching Trisha's attention.

"They've broken through the back gate somehow. We need those reserves out fighting now!"

"I'll let them know!" Volunteered an older mercenary, his graying beard rustling as he spoke.

The archers didn't need to be told to fire, they did so automatically.

The rabble that broke through the south gate were slowly picked off, arrows protruding form their body fatally as they collapsed. However, they were too many, and began swarming the village.

Sygil and his troops wasted no time in engaging the enemy. Of course, Sygil wasn't going to play fair.

He shot his spiked chain out into a small cluster of the invaders, the wicked blades tearing through multiple suits of armour and bodies bloodily.

That was not all, with a flick of his free hand, he summoned his shadow hounds, which charged forth towards the invaders with hunger, tearing through the enemy ranks like a hot knife through butter.

Blood sprayed everywhere from their onslaught, and created a buffer space so they wouldn't be immediately overwhelmed.

It would only be temporary, however, since for every invader that died, two more would take his place.

Sygil grunted as he used his spiked chain like a whip, utilising its range.

"Tsk. There's way too many of them to be a simple band of raiders, and they're too coordinated."

One of the mercenaries called out to his left.

"I think they're the Army!"

Sygil briefly glanced at the man, whose was locked blades with an invader that managed to get past.

A quick flick of his sword opened up the locked weapons, exposing his opponent and allowing the mercenary to slash his guts out onto the street.

Bloody entrails fell to the ground as the mercenary continued.

"I said I think they're the Army. They have the banners of the Kingdom, as well as those of some noble they serve!"

Sygil felt his face contort.

"But why the hell would the Army come attack us like this? There's no incentive or reason for them to?"

The mercenary suddenly let out a scream as he was skewered by a knight from behind, riding a warhorse.

The gate!

Without even bothering to look, Sygil swung his spiked chain out in a wide arc behind him, spinning to increase the momentum, as well as see the gate.

The swing tore through three horses chests and bisected a rider atop a forth horse that was closer.

It was as he feared.

The inferno had died down somehow, and now the cavalry were starting to push through, their armoured mounts being pushed through the remaining fire.

Shit…

Things were not looking good now.

---

At that very moment, Maxmillian and Hans could agree as they mercilessly carved up swathes of soldiers trying to enter through the eastern wall.

Many of the workers present had been killed in the initial attack, with others succumbing to the invaders that infiltrated from behind.

Now, Maxmillian and Hans were equally concerned.

How did they get through?! Were their collective thoughts.

It didn't matter. All that mattered was they needed to be dealt with.

A Fireball cast by Hans incinerated the location the soldiers were pouring from between two buildings, killing over a dozen soldiers easily.

The remaining soldiers suddenly trembled in fear, and hesitated as they felt the effects of Maxmillians {Doctrine of Terror} cast upon them.

That was all the time needed for everyone to quickly readjust to the situation and begin attacking the invaders.

Alas, they numbered too few, and the invaders too many.

Hans called out to Maxmillian as he cut down soldiers charging through the hole in the eastern wall.

"We're getting swarmed by these pests! You need to increase your area of effect to try and slow down more of these fuckers."

Maxmillian had his back to Hans, disembowelling, bisecting and otherwise killing the terrified enemy soldiers.

"Understood. Cover me!" He called out to a few mercenaries, who looked at him uncertainly. The glare he sent them made them reconsider, and they quickly formed a meat shield around Maxmillian.

Maxmillian wasted no time spending the next fifteen seconds to prepare for a larger area of effect, as well as strengthening the spell.

{Doctrine of Terror} was not necessarily a fatal spell, rather it was a tactical one that complemented the rest of one's arsenal.

It instilled pure, unadulterated, fear into anyone caught within its range, making them lose the will to fight and retreat. And for those of incredibly weak constitution, it could even be sufficient to very-well induce either a seizure or myocardial infarction. Though, that was a near impossibility, even for low-ranked individuals.

Still, the tactical significance of such a skill was incredibly lucrative, as it would essentially halt an enemy army in their tracks if they weren't skilled high enough to be immune, or lacked sufficient magical protections.

It was almost coincidental that an enemy army happened to arrive, as if some bizarre twist of fate. Either way, Maxmillian wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

The spell was ready, and he cast it.

The effects were instantaneous. Everyone in the nearby area extending up to the first set of buildings, as well as nearby outside the eastern wall, with the exception of Hans, succumbed to its effects.

The three mercenaries protecting Maxmillian fell to their knees, sheer terror sprawled across their face. They were too petrified to move. However, so were the invaders.

The demihumans fared slightly better, and had the common sense to capitalise on the stalled soldiers, though a quick glance of their features easily revealed their unease due to the skills effects.

It didn't take long for the soldiers to escape their terrified stupor and realise they were suddenly being slaughtered. The only logical choice, under heavy influence by the skill, was to retreat.

With self-preservation the only motive, the remaining dozen soldiers in the immediate area of the effect were quick to back away in terror, screaming fearfully.

It mattered little in the end, however, as Maxmillian and Hans were quick to dispatch them.

A scream from behind made them both turn their heads.

"Oh for fuck's sake," snarled Hans.

One of the mercenaries was holding his sword at the two NPCs, overrun by terror. But even more pathetic was the second mercenary repeatedly stabbing himself with his own sword, screaming frantically.

"I won't let you kill me, bastards!"

Maxmillian shook his head in contempt.

"Fucking weak, and useless, pathetic, snivelling filth."

He sighed as he addressed Hans.

"I'll deactivate the skill. Can't have the bodies killing themselves because they're that weak-willed."

At least the third mercenary had the good grace and mental constitution to not piss himself or attempt to kill himself. It didn't mean that he was held in any higher regard, though.

"What do you expect? They're primitive humans, not cultivated or properly conditioned for real warfare. Besides, they aren't entirely immune to such a skill of yours." Hans was also exasperated.

As soon as Maxmillian deactivated his skill, everyone felt the intense crushing fear wash away.

Maxmillian strode past a few dazed mercenaries and demihumans, growling out as he approached the eastern wall.

"Get up and fight, you pathetic maggots. If you can't handle a little pressure, then you shouldn't even be here."

One of the nearby mercenaries nodded all to eagerly.

"Amen to that," he muttered, and started to jog off back into the town, only to suddenly find Hans' sabre pressing against his throat.

"Desertion is not an option," he spat out.

"Are you kidding?! There's over a thousand soldiers invading us?!" Cried another mercenary.

At that moment, a fresh wave of soldiers charged to the eastern wall, with more starting to continue flanking from the back gate, the effects of Maxmillian's skill no longer felt.

"Which is precisely why every able-bodied warrior is needed to stand their ground and fight," hissed Hans.

"Nah, man. Fuck this, I ain't getting paid enough by you psychoes!"

Those were his last words as Hans slit his throat. Wide-eyed, the man gurgled out in shock and pain, but the blood clogged his vocal chords.

Hans let the dying mercenary fall to the ground.

Maxmillian shot out as he decapitated an enemy soldier that charged forth.

"If you all don't get your act together right now, then execution for this treason will be a fate that you will be begging for! Now fight!"

Everyone hardened their stance at his words, ready to repel the next wave with more vigour than before. Fear, after all, was an excellent motivator, one that Maxmillian didn't shy away from.

---

Sygil didn't feel fear, currently. He hadn't in a long time. What he did feel, however, was anger.

Anger at the army of soldiers that were currently uprooting all of his progress and gains in mere minutes.

He whipped his spiked chain, ripping through several more soldiers, blowing limbs, gore and blood everywhere.

All around him, the town buildings were beginning to burn. Demihumans and mercenaries were locked in combat, their skill and resolve overpowering their enemies. Unfortunately, they lacked the numbers to sufficiently defend the town.

Sygil couldn't help but notice his workforce of villagers be slaughtered, and his army of mercenaries and demihumans slowly but surely dwindle down in numbers.

Even a skilled warrior could be overwhelmed, and the sheer number of invaders was staggering.

The dirt of the ground below was barely invisible, instead a large, blotchy puddle of blood as the bodies fell.

He snarled in rage, extending his free hand out in the direction of the nearest invaders.

"Hunt them down. Tear their flesh from their bones, rip their souls from their bodies, and leave no survivors."

The flame-like shadows spilled from his hands, shooting forth and rushing towards their prey.

Teeth formed, gnashing hungrily at the suddenly terrified invaders, but it was too late.

Bodies exploded blood and entrails as several shadow hounds materialised, snarling and roaring, eager to fulfill their masters bloody commands.

Sygil felt insane laughter creep up his throat. Despite this annoying setback, it was glorious! It had been a while since he had unleashed a bit in an actual battle.

This was far from what he was capable, but he wanted these foolish invaders to suffer for their transgressions.

"Yessss… YESSSSS!" He purred greedily. "Kill them all!"

Some of the nearby mercenaries that were still alive glanced at him nervously.

The sounds of screams and flesh tearing mixed with the clashing of steel, orchestrating a symphony of death and violence that sounded beautiful to Sygil's ears.

These bastards break into MY territory, and think that I will just roll over and die?! No, death is all that awaits.

He materialised his sabre and swung, cleaving a horse and its rider in two.

He could feel his blood-lust rising. He swung his sword in the direction of someone approaching, intent on killing the useless fucker.

"Boss! Wait, it's me!"

He stopped midswing at the woman's voice.

Alizia?

"Ah. Miss Grenevaulch. How lovely of you to join us."

The mercenary did her best to ignore the maniacal look plastered across her new employers face.

Behind her stood two more mercenaries carrying crossbows apiece.

"They've poured into the village. They're trying to divide us, but your subordinates are holding them off. We're slowly beginning to regain ground."

"Yessss," purred Sygil, glancing at her eerily.

"How curious that they managed to break into this village so quickly and easily? The eastern wall is the only one with a hole in it, and my subordinates are dealing with that easily enough. And I've been holding the front gate. So tell me, miss Grenevaulch. How exactly was it that they managed to bypass us?"

She repressed a shudder at his scarily calm but accusatory voice.

"They managed to overwhelm the rear gate. But, we're winning now," she informed, her two mercenaries firing of crossbolts into enemy soldiers.

A demihuman woman behind Sygil suddenly screamed in agony as she was mercilessly cut down by another soldier, spraying blood onto Sygil's back.

Sygil could care less, instead eyeing Alizia curiously.

"Indeed," he returned cryptically.

Before she could say anything else on the matter, Sygil turned on his heel, decapitating the same soldier effortlessly.

Alizia winced.

Fucker's too creepy.

"Hold the line, and don't let anyone else pass through. My hounds will help assist."

It was directed at her, she knew. Before she could say anything else on the matter, Sygil casually strode off, following the wall towards the eastern construction site where his subordinates were.

At least the fighting is getting easier. Which was true. The number of invaders was starting to dwindle to a more manageable level, and the sheer number of bodies piling the streets was making movement more difficult for everyone. It also made everyone more vulnerable to the defending archers. Easy pickings, in fact.

Alizia grit her teeth, before raising her own sword as a rallying cry.

"You heard him! Don't let up. Hold the line, and don't let any more of these cocksuckers through!"

With intensified vigour, the front gate would hold. For now.

---

The walls exploded, spraying mortar and stone everywhere. Dirt exploded from boulders glazed with oil and set ablaze, and nearby houses began to collapse under the new barrage.

Sygil felt himself running to avoid getting hit by the catapaulted rocks.

Motherfuckers are persistent.

As Sygil ran, he finally saw Hans and Maxmillian, finishing off the remainder of the soldier nearby. Only a small handful of demihumans remained by their side, the rest of the defenders and workers lying strewn about covered in blood, buried amongst the sea of enemy bodies.

"Fuck," cursed Hans. "Take cover!"

In desperation to avoid being pasted, everybody ran to the nearest building to take shelter behind.

The flaming boulders crashed into the ground, some exploding upon impact, others rolling and trailing fire.

Bodies exploded in balls of grisly blood as they were ground to paste, and houses alongside the walls were decimated.

Sygil felt himself slide behind cover at the same building as his NPCs and surviving soldiers.

Rubble rained down upon them all, and suddenly, the whistle of another barrage of flaming arrows could be heard.

"For Christ's sake," groused Maxmillian.

"Can we go one minute without these pesky fuckers."

"They're too organised to be bandits," agreed Hans.

"That's because they're not," offered Sygil, glancing at the raining rubble from the corner of his eye.

"They're part of the Re-Estize Army, likely under the private employ of some noble."

"Then, pardon me sir, why the fuck are they attacking us?!" Hans was incredulous, and the remaining demihumans looked at them uncertainly, hoping that they would provide some sort of salvation.

"That," began Sygil, "I would like to know."

"Well, sir, we can't just sit around all day. We need to keep fighting," stated Hans.

"Agreed. We need to take out their archers and artillery, otherwise there will be nothing left of this town," added Maxmillian.

"I'm aware," growled Sygil, ignoring a ricocheting piece of rubble that shot off of his cheek.

"Unfortunately, we have hardly anybody left. There's only a handful of defenders at the front gate. And with the handful we have here, we're not able to withstand a full on second wave assault. Not unless we want to risk losing the entire town and everybody else."

The arrows and artillery stopped. The sound of resting rubble was quickly washed out by a revitalised war cry from a charging second wave.

Sygil peeked around the corner of the destroyed building.

The wall as entirely reduced to mere rubble. As the dust settled, Sygil could hear the rush of more soldiers.

"Fuck," spat Sygil.

The town was in ruins. The buildings mostly destroyed. Only the farthest buildings, including the mansion and laboratory were faring the best, with some small fires, but nothing of major concern.

"There's too many to deal with this second wave conventionally. By the time we kill the pricks, there'll be nothing left worth salvaging," he growled.

"I wish I had a fucking gun. It'd make dealing with these bastards a hell of a lot quicker and easier," spat Hans.

"I hear you," concurred Maxmillian.

Same. Agreed Sygil.

Wait…

Sygil felt realisation dawn upon him.

We do have guns! I'm a fucking idiot. This whole time we've had guns!

It had been months since Sygil had summoned a gun because he had been trapped inside Yggdrasil. As such, his reliance on melee exponentially grew and he developed a new habit of relying purely on his swords without even thinking about his guns. And since he came to the new world, he hadn't even bothered since he was too powerful to need them anyways, so he had almost forgotten about them.

Since he was technically in the real world now, lord knew he had mountains of evidence to support that, he should be able to summon and use his guns again.

"Perhaps indeed," muttered Sygil, catching everyone's attention. Hans and Maxmillian were intrigued, whilst the demihumans were confused.

One woman spoke up.

"What do you want us to do now? There's too many to contend with, like they've said?"

Sygil ignored her.

I just need to focus, and summon my gun.

He outstretched his right palm, and began to concentrate.

Here's hoping.

To his absolute relief and joy, he materialised his lever action rifle without any issues whatsoever.

No pain or drawbacks. Just like the real world indeed.

"What the hell, sir?!" Hans exclaimed.

Sygil smiled wryly, glancing at Hans.

"You have marksman attributes, correct?"

"Yes sir," nodded Hans.

"Good."

It was time to even the battlefield and get this show well and truly on the road.

"I trust you know how to use this then?"

Sygil presented the rifle to Hans, who accepted it with wide eyes.

"Of course sir!"

"Excellent. Get to a snipers position and start thinning their ranks. The rounds are quite explosive against non-Holy enemies, so you don't need to be overly precise."

"Will do, sir. Though, what about the ammo?"

Sygil waved him off quickly.

"It will self load. You only need to chamber a new round through the cycling. It's been otherwise imbued with certain… properties, to make it more useful."

Hans nodded, examining the rifle experimentally, before extending the lever to chamber the first round.

"It has an effect range of 450 metres, though you can hit something easily a mile away if you have exceptional aim."

Hans nodded firmly.

"Then let me take this gift of yours and bring death to these heathens that dare strike out at you."

Sygil couldn't help but smile cruelly.

"I expect nothing less. Maxmillian."

"Yes sir."

Sygil summoned a monstrous hand-gun, extending the handle in offering for his NPC to take.

".50 Action Express, Desert Eagle. Same deal as with the rifle. It will autoload each bullet into the magazine, just take care with your shots."

Maxmillian carefully grasped the handle, admiring the engravings along the slide.

"Your will shall be done," intoned Maxmillian coldly.

Sygil summoned his own Desert Eagle, almost feeling giddy at the sudden weight in his hand. The sun and fire gleamed off the gun.

Death would be all but guaranteed now.

"The rest of you," began Sygil. "Form up and be ready to deal with any invaders that try to flank the rear. Maxmillian. Reinforce the front gate. I'll thin the fools that push through the wall here. Now go. Go, and bring death to my enemies."

"With pleasure," sneered Maxmillian.

As everyone scrambled from behind the cover of the ruined building, what happened next could be described with only one word.

Chaos.

---

Recommended Song: Hellsing Ultimate OST - Akahata to Kokka

---

The report of Sygil's Desert Eagle rang loud and clear through the air, cutting deep into the heart of everyone nearby who panicked at the strange, loud noise.

The invaders didn't have time to ponder it, however, as it struck out again. And again. And again. And again….

Suddenly, the charging soldiers were watching their comrades explode blood everywhere.

Heads began to explode. Holes were blown through bodies, nearly cleaving them in two.

Limbs went flying, and the charging soldiers couldn't help but question what the hell was going on all of a sudden.

Sygil felt himself slowly walking towards the ruined walls, opening fire. He didn't even need to aim properly, just a general direction in font of him. The screams at the end of each shot let him know he hit someone.

With a flick of his hand, he summoned his hounds back.

Instinctively, he felt their presence return.

He didn't even need to see nor acknowledge them. Instead, he gave his command.

"Hunt them down, and kill them."

The shadows darted forward, charging straight into the front ranks of the enemy.

More screams accompanied them, and Sygil felt his eyes light up with sheer excitement as he kept shooting.

"Hahahaha! This is so much more fun than using melee all the time! You bastards will never learn. You can't defeat me?! YOU CAN'T!"

---

Hans climbed up the steps of the building, practically leaping over the holes in the floor. He climbed to the highest floor, being greeted by the open air and smoke from the missing roof.

The wall facing the fields where the invading force majority was lay destroyed, offering minimal cover. What it did offer, however, was the necessary elevation.

Crouching behind the jutting wood and stone that remained from the wall, he levelled his rifle into the enemy ranks nearest the crumbled wall, and aimed down the sights.

CRACK

The recoil was strong, but his super-tier strength due to his high levels meant the rifle barely budged at all.

He didn't even need a scope. For starters, the enemy was relatively close, well within 250 metres. Secondly, they were so numerous. Like mice under a haystack inside a barn. And third, his Sharpshooter skills, used initially for research in Yggdrasil, was literally designed for a scenario such as this.

He watched as the round blew a hole through some unfortunate sap's throat, sending his head flying.

He cycled the lever, aimed again, and fired.

CRACK

Another soldier's head exploded, showering blood and gristle onto his nearby companions.

He cycled the lever again, and fired at another target. They too exploded from the unnatural rounds fired by the rifle.

Hans felt a small tug at the corner of his lips.

This is more like it.

---

The use of firearms was already proving its value in turning the battle around. The defenders now had regained a ranged attack against the invaders, and coupled with its destructive firepower, nothing was capable of withstanding the brutal violence wrought upon them. Not even the alloyed armour worn by the soldiers was impervious. Instead, the steel splintered and ruptured from the bullets flying.

However, it still wasn't enough. Sygil could tell.

There were literally thousands of soldiers advancing, with hundreds on horseback, and the majority on foot.

As a result, Sygil was forced to take refuge behind a nearby building adjacent from the one he had gifted his guns from.

Dammit. This will take too long. And if those archers and catapaults aren't dealt with, there will be literally nothing but rubble and corpses.

The guns were game-changers, definitely, but there were too many enemies to engage at once.

The sound of armour clinking behind him broke him from his thoughts, and he turned to face a platoon's worth of soldiers that somehow had slipped through from behind.

Sygil whirled around and aimed his gun at the first bastard within his sights, but then?

What's that whirring sound?

He quickly received his answer.

Quantum?

Casually approaching the group of soldiers from behind was Quantum.

Before anyone could react, the synthetic voice rang out across the streets.

"When I am working on creations for the glorious creator, I much prefer it when useless meatbags such as yourselves DO NOT impede it by for once showing accurate aim and blowing half of my laboratory into smithereens."

The soldiers found themselves wide-eyed as the approaching… thing… neared them.

"What the hell?!"

Quantum promptly ignored the terrified human.

"As such, I am left with no choice but to eradicate the stupid meatbags that dare trespass on my master's territory and wreak such havoc."

By now, Quantum was almost face to face with the nearest soldier, and wasted no time in engaging in bloody violence.

A mechanical hand shot out, wrapping itself around the helmeted face of the soldier, who let out a panicked scream.

The scream was cut off as Quantum tightened his grip, crushing the helmet and squeezing blood and brains outs.

Without any effort, quantum lifted the corpse up, and tossed it at a second soldier, before charging.

Suddenly realising they were under attack, the soldiers adopted more defensive stances and charged forth to do battle with the strange metallic demon.

Unfortunately, they forgot about Sygil standing behind them with a loaded gun, smiling at what essentially would be a slaughter before him.

To intervene, or not to intervene? Mused Sygil.

Quantum ripped the head off of a soldier, before bending another's sword and adding the hapless soul's neck to the same fate.

Hmmm. Looks like he's handling it pretty well.

Quantum was a whirlwind of death. What he lacked in weapons, he made up in pure strength and technical skill. He parried sword strikes with his bare arms, before grappling with them to tear the sword out of their hands.

Since they were inferior fleshbags, however, that often resulted in Quantum simply tearing the whole hand or even arm with the sword.

The remaining soldiers must of realised they were facing a monster beyond their skill, because they suddenly backed up and prepared to flee in terror. Or rather, they would have had Sygil not intervened.

The gun trained on them, the motion having been repeated for decades. They were dead before they hit the ground, with bone, blood, flesh and steel blown everywhere.

Quantum watched impassively as his creator killed the remaining soldiers nearby.

"Your assistance is duly noted and appreciated master," intoned the automaton.

"Likewise," returned Sygil.

"What the hell was that about the laboratory," questioned Sygil after glancing around.

"It has taken some damage from the onslaught of flaming arrows and catapaulted boulders. It still is functional, but several structural supports are missing, as well as a decent section of the roof. Much of the apothecary materials has sustained damage when I checked. Fortunately, the more volatile chemicals and gunpowder being manufactured on the lower floors is safe."

"Gunpowder?"

"Yes."

"Is it ready to be deployed?" Shot Sygil rapid-fire.

"Unfortunately, we lack any devices to propel a projectile akin to a gun."

Sygil shook his head.

"No, I'm aware of that. No, can we use what you have manufactured as bombs?"

"I can load the powder into flasks or other containers. However, it is not fully dried, and will require manual detonation since there are no primers ready."

Sygil thumbed his chin for a second, ignoring the screams around him.

"Can a projectile ignite it?"

"Theoretically. Though I would recommend it be explosive itself to maximise the chances of successful ignition. However, using a flaming arrow to ignite it will be quite difficult."

"I don't intend to," smiled Sygil slyly.

"Go take several of the demihumans from the southern gate with you and get those explosives ready. I want them yesterday. When they're done, we're going to toss them into the enemy ranks. Hans will shoot them, and we'll blow these sons of bitches sky high. Now move it!"

"Right away."

---

Maxmillian felt the crispness of the trigger as he squeezed it. He could feel the recoil try, and fail, to overpower his strength. And most thrilling of all, he watched as the round tore right through the next poor bastard, spraying blood, gore and hair everywhere.

The invading soldiers were starting to become more wary as they found themselves being picked off from afar.

He charged a fireball and sent it flying into their ranks.

"This is too easy."

"Maxmillian."

He turned to address Sygil, who was approaching.

"I've got Quantum setting up several bombs to help thin their ranks, however, we need to route them so they don't escape, and so we can maximise the killing field."

"Affirmative sir. What do you command me to do?"

"Take several of the troops with you," he gestured to the demihumans and remaining mercenaries, all of whom were suffering from fatigue and various wounds.

"Flank them along the forest, and destroy their catapaults on the other side of that hill. Keep them from escaping. Once they're trapped, we'll burn them alive."

"Excellent idea sir. You heard him, get you weapons ready and move out! We're going to take the fight directly to the enemy!"

Maxmillian turned to leave, but Sygil suddenly grabbed him by the shoulder.

"And Maxmillian."

The NPC eyed him fro the corner of his eye.

"If you run into any commanding officers of theirs, keep them alive. I need answers as to why the hell they attacked us."

"Affirmative sir."

"Good, I'm counting on you."

Before Maxmillian could praise his glorious creator, Sygil bellowed out to the remaining handful fo troops that would be staying behind.

"Alright, the rest of you, fall back to Hans' position. I'll scorch the earth to funnel them only towards our front. That way we can pick them off. Alizia."

"Yes boss?"

"Take two men with you and head back to the laboratory and assist him where needed. When you're done, bring the explosives back to my position. Am I clear?"

"Crystal," nodded the woman in determination.

"Good. Now let's give these bastards hell. Go!"

There was a flurry of motion as everyone scrambled to their positions. Four demihumans accompanied Maxmillian as he cut through the rubble directly to the forest edge to flank the enemy front, whilst everyone ran to their right to the new town front.

Sygil turned to the exposed flank they would be abandoning.

"Let's see how effective Yggdrasil spells are then, shall we?"

Raising a free hand, he aimed at the exposed flank and streets, and cast a simple spell.

"[Maximise Fireball]".

Fire roared from his hand, igniting wherever he aimed. Fire erupted from the ground, leaving a burning inferno. Sygil glided his hand in the direction he wanted the in front to extend, creating a wall of pure flame that continued to burn after he was finished.

Now. We just need to keep them at bay until Maxmillian is in position.

A whistle in the air forced him to look up.

Shit.

Another volley of flaming arrows had been unleashed. Shaking his head in frustration, he ran along the burning buildings that were crumbling to meet with what remained of his forces. Which was to say, not very much.

Bodies and rubble pooled everywhere, some his own forces and workers, most the enemy invaders.

Arrows thudded all around him as he ran.

You better hurry up Maxmillian, or I'll have nothing left.

---

Maxmillian felt himself snarl in annoyance as the demihumans trailed after him in the forest.

"Hurry it up. We don't have time to dawdle because you're too slow."

One of the demihumans muttered her displeasure.

"Fucking humans."

Normally, he would have struck the bitch down for her insolence, but he needed the bodies, and they were all on a time constraint.

"Save your griping for later. We have a mission at hand. Now shutup and follow your damn orders."

"Of course," gritted the demihuman.

The edge of the forest grew nearer. To their right, they could begin to make out rows of archers and catapaults resting near the hill, unawares of their approach.

As they ran over brush and logs, stones and dirt, Maxmillian could hear a voice call out for the archers to ready another volley of arrows.

"Ready volley."

The edge was near now. Only a few more steps.

"Aim!"

Crashing through the forest flanking the archers, he could hear the creak and stretch of wood as the archers raised their arrows high.

They weren't aware of him.

"[Inferno] Maximum range!"

His scream was the only warning the archers had, with the officer on horseback glancing sharply in his direction.

The erupting firestorm ripping its way through the ground and air along their flank was the only thing they saw as the ground erupted.

The screams were washed out by the roar of the flames. The tidal wave of fire tore through everyone in its path, incinerating most of the archers.

Arrows were let loose with awkward aim, but most were consumed in the fire.

Behind Maxmillian, the accompanying warriors burst through the foliage, swords drawn.

In front of them, the remaining soldiers and cavalry were suddenly thrown into disarray from the attack.

"Welcome to hell," spat Maxmillian, drawing his gun in one hand, and igniting a flame in the other.

"Find the commanding officers. Kill the rest," commanded Maxmillian.

"On it," nodded the demihumans.

And then, they attacked.

---

Quantum had bottled most of the powder into the flasks. Glass flask with cork lids, ceramic containers, wooden containers, it mattered not.

There wasn't an exceptionally large amount of the powder created, but there was enough to easily thin the enemy numbers by a couple hundred. Or blow a building or two up.

"Meatbags," he gestured to the three mercenaries accompanying him.

"Take these," he handed the containers around, "to Lord Sygil. Do not drop them or let them come into contact with any ignition source."

"U-uh. What will happen?" One mercenary questioned nervously.

"You will explode you organic entrails everywhere. If you by some chance survive the initial blast, you will likely be crippled for the rest of your organic life."

"Fucking great," groused the other mercenary.

"So, what exactly do these do?" Alizia tapped a vial curiously whilst her two subordinates piled as many into their arms as they could.

Quantum continued pouring the remnants of the powder into the remaining glass beakers, flasks and other devices.

"When the powder is ignited, it will combust, generating energy. If enough powder is ignited, the energy released can be explosive, thus creating a small bomb. Take these, and don't die."

The way Quantum spoke wasn't assuring her that he was exactly caring for her well-being because he valued her life. No, Quantum only wanted her alive so long as she could sufficiently serve Sygil.

Glancing around, she could see some fire arrows stuck in the floor boards, their gentle flames failing to fully ignite the rest of the wood yet.

She glanced back at the bench where Quantum was working, the powder spread across the bench.

Explosive huh?

By now, it was just her and the automaton alone in the room, with Quantum's back to her.

---

Sygil bit back a curse as he fired his gun relentlessly. His hounds continued to tear through the soldiers, but there were literally thousands remaining. Thousands had died by this stage, but it didn't seem to deter the persistent vermin.

Rifle cracks rang through the air as Hans shot from his perch. The remaining demihumans had taken up bows and arrows to keep pushing through and utilising their ranged advantage.

Most of the enemy soldiers had taken cover underneath the corpses of horses and fellow soldiers alike. Some had scrounged up bows to fire back, to no avail, whilst others tried to weather the storm, also to no avail.

Sygil's handgun blew the corpses apart, still managing to penetrate through to some cowering soldiers. Hans' rifle, however, killed the soldiers with pinpoint accuracy.

Hell, he's an even better shot than I am.

Sygil would give Hans that.

His hounds were working through their ranks, also killing them.

He could simply just wait the battle out, but that would take too long. That's why he wanted the explosives to be used now.

Behind the hill before him, he watched a sudden fireball erupt from the ground.

He couldn't really hear any screams, but he was certain they would be present.

At least I have some subordinates that I can rely on.

That only served to inflame his irritation.

Where the hell are my explosives?

As if to answer his question, approaching footsteps from behind alerted him to the two mercenaries he had sent with Alizia.

"Oi boss! We got the shit you wanted!"

Sygil spared a glance at them, observing they were carrying armfuls of vials and containers, each packed with the volatile gunpowder.

"About fucking time," he muttered.

"Hans!"

"Yes-sir?" Hans bellowed down from his sniper roost.

"We have the treats for our little mongrel friends. Can you hit them?"

A rifle crack rang out, and Sygil could hear the scream from afar as the bullet impacted.

The sound of the lever being cycled rang out as Hans retorted.

"Absolutely. You point the target, I'll shoot it."

"Good. We'll be tossing vials containing gunpowder into their ranks. Shoot them, and they should explode. Make sure you take as many of them with each shot!"

Sygil could feel his glee dripping through each word. Nothing but death would await the rest of these ignorant fools.

Maxmillian was currently routing the rear of the enemy forces, keeping them from retreating. Now, all he needed to do was barrage them with explosives, and then push them. It would be a simple mop and sweep operation.

"Trisha!"

The demihuman and her remaining compatriots glanced at from their cover.

"Take those vials and toss them as far into the enemy ranks as you can. Do it one at a time. Hans will shoot them. Make sure you toss them deep into their lines. I want to take as many of them out as possible, and not us!"

Trisha wordlessly nodded, as did the remaining defenders.

"Good. Hand them out," he gestured to the two mercenaries.

Another ball of fire erupted in the distance where Maxmillian was. The enemy forces were trapped now.

As soon as the vials were distributed amongst the front line of defenders, Hans readied his rifle.

"Ready when you are!"

Sygil nodded, addressing the demihumans.

"Toss the first one!"

At his command, the first make-shift bomb was thrown far overhead, deep into the front lines of the enemy ranks.

It barely made contact with the ground when Hans fired.

The gunshot crack was crisp and loud, whereas the sudden explosion of the bomb was noisy and messy sounding, like muffled thunder inside a small tin shed.

Regardless of what it sounded like, the result was exactly as predicted.

The round ignited the gunpowder, combusting it and releasing its energy.

The explosion wasn't overly large, but it was sufficient to eviscerate at least ten enemy soldiers.

Many of the nearby soldiers died, but many others suddenly found themselves gored and dismembered by the detonation.

Painful screams rang out.

"Again!" Bellowed Sygil, firing his gun.

The crack of Hans' rifle hit the second bomb with deadly precision.

More screams blended in with the second explosion, but no-one cared.

The bombs were tossed slowly, deep into the enemy ranks. Every time without fail that Hans fired, a bomb would successfully detonate, killing soldiers and maiming more.

Sygil kept shooting, keeping the helpless soldiers pinned down, whilst Hans and the demihumans bombed them into submission. Meanwhile, Sygil's hounds kept racing everywhere, shredding soldiers left right and centre. Add to the fray Maxmillian's offensive desecrating the enemy's rear and preventing retreat, the invaders found themselves well and truly in despair.

Desperate cries and screams of agony permeated the air, drowned out by the crackle of fires, the thunder of explosions, and the roar of the Shadow Hounds.

Nothing was going to survive in the next few minutes.

I'll make sure of it.

KRA-KOOM!

Sygil spun his head so fast it almost tore off.

The explosion resounded in the air, much louder and sharper than any of the ones currently going off.

Where and what the fuck was that?!

It didn't take long to find the source of the unwelcome disturbance.

Is that my laboratory?

It was. Or at least, that's what he could deduce it was, considering the substantial smoke, fire and actual lack of a discernible building.

The reconverted laboratory was now reduced to mere rubble, with busted wooden struts, chunks of brick wall and cracked mortar, billowing smoke and fire.

My laboratory?!

It suddenly dawned on him what he just lost.

My fucking remedies!

He could feel his rage threaten to erupt, like magma from a volcano.

All that hard work over three weeks. Gone in three fucking seconds.

When he found out who caused this raid and resultant damage, he was going to kill them slowly.

An infuriated hiss escaped his lips.

Now was not the time to dwindle on such thoughts. He had a battle to win. A battle for all intents and purposes, he had won.

Hans' voice disrupted his sinister thoughts.

"Sir, we're out of bombs!"

"Then prepare a charge. We're going to push the bastards. They're trapped and demoralised. Hans! You continue to provide ranged fire and pick off anyone you can. The rest of you, gather your melee weapons and prepare to push. Unless they're an officer of some sort, I don't want a single survivor. Slaughter them to the last man. Any that surrender, you butcher them where they stand. Understood!"

Hans called out an affirmative 'sir', whilst Trisha and the rest nodded, drawing their swords and, for those that had them, shields.

"Then hunt them down!"

The small group of warriors and mercenaries charged into the foray.

Sygil followed slowly, clenching his handgun until he was almost certain it would snap.

"When I find the fucker responsible, they're going to wish they were already dead."

His snarl was animalistic, with a fury to match.

He stalked up the hill slowly, with the fields of wheat and grain trampled, replaced with fields of blood and corpses. So much blood….

Many of the corpses were indistinguishable, just streaks of gore and bloody chunks scattered everywhere. The handiwork of his hounds and the explosives no doubt.

Hooves, legs, shredded armour, bent swords, and chunks of flesh, soaking in puddles of blood that easily submerged his whole foot if he stepped in them.

Smoke blotted most of the sky, whilst the scent of burnt flesh and blood almost gagged anybody left.

Gunshots, screams, and the slicing and dicing of flesh could still be heard.

As he reached the summit of the hill, the only sight awaiting him was more carnage. There was less blood for sure, instead the corpses were mostly charred remains.

Wooden struts from what were likely the catapaults lay charred at the back, whilst the reaming couple hundred enemy soldiers were quickly being reduced in numbers.

The demihumans had proven their worth in combat, but it was no secret most of the killing was by his NPCs and hounds.

Yggdrasil fire spells, firearms, and vicious shadow hounds were a potent combination, with the bloody results left in their wake a memorandum to their credible achievements.

Mos of the remaining invaders weren't even interested in fighting anymore, too desperate to leave, but they weren't being given a choice.

He didn't even need to intervene, his hounds and forces were doing a fine enough job.

A gurgle near his left foot captured his attention.

An enemy soldier lay dying, facing the sky, covered in blood, and maimed.

Another wet gurgle erupted from his bloodied throat, eyes fogging up and looking distant.

He must have seen Sygil, as he let out a desperate whine.

"Please… help… me."

Sygil felt a contemptuous sneer build up on his face.

He could feel his composure ready to snap, his anger boiling over.

"You… beg? After all of this, you have the gall to beg me for mercy?"

Remarkably, his voice didn't raise in volume nor tone, but the cold fury seeping through was unmistakable.

Without caring, he placed his left foot on the helpless man's throat, slowly applying pressure.

He watched as his voice failed, his eyes bugging out in fear and desperation.

"You have no right to beg for mercy. You have no right to anything, actually. That includes a merciful death."

He watched as the life started to ebb away from the man, but still, it was taking too long.

It wold have been cruel to let the dying soldier suffer any longer, but Sygil didn't care.

The insufferable bastard played a role in this siege, so he was going to get his comeuppance.

A panicked wet gurgle finally managed to slip through, but by that point, the pressure was too great on the man's throat.

Applying much more strength than need, Sygil stepped down with full force, a scowl etched across his face.

A sickening snap and squelch could be heard, but it mattered not.

Sygil stepped off the corpse, his foot drenched in blood.

The smoke offered enough reprieve form the sunlight that much of the ground was covered in light shadows. Nothing significant, but enough where Sygil felt he could easily teleport much closer to his subordinates.

So that was exactly what he did.

He teleported directly next to Maxmillian, right as he executed a fleeing soldier.

"Any sign of the leaders?"

Maxmillian spun around in surprise, but relaxed once he realised it was Sygil.

"Negative sir."

"Then start searching." His irritation must have come through as Maxmillian stiffened uncomfortably at the order.

"Right away sir!"

He scurried off, ordering several demihumans to accompany him. That left Trisha and a few other demihumans, as well as three mercenaries, to help his hounds mop up the rest.

He promptly ignored the sounds of the slaughter, the screams, cries, and roars alike.

Armies just don't come out of nowhere. They're usually sent by someone. But who sent them?

A whinny from a horse up ahead, hidden behind the smouldering catapaults captured his attention.

Glancing directly in front, he watched as three horses, carrying colourful armoured riders, started to gallop away into the open field.

Hmm. Now we can't have that, can we.

A thud on his right made him shoot his eyes in the noises direction, only to catch the tail-ends of a whimper as terrified solider covered in blood fell on his rear, with one of his hounds roaring in it's face, ready to shred him apart.

Before the hound could do so, though, Sygil clicked his fingers.

"Stop." He commanded, and the hound obeyed, choosing to growl.

"Good boy," he cooed.

The soldier, who was bracing himself for imminent death, opened his terror-stricken eyes and glanced at Sygil.

"Wha-what the hell are you?!"

Sygil knelt down, placing a firm hand on the petrified soldier's shoulder.

"Now that's rude," chided Sygil.

"But I'll forgive you if you can answer something for me."

"A-a-anything1 Just please let me live!"

So desperate. He almost snorted.

He hoisted the scrawny soldier up by the scruff of his neck, the weight his body and armour nothing when compared to his strength.

He spun the fool around to face the fleeing trio of horses.

"Who's that by chance?"

"Th-that's our boss! B-Baron Joyce! He's the one who sent us. I'm just a conscripted soldier! Please!"

"Really? He's the one responsible?"

"Y-yes!" Stammered the soldier, while Sygil sported a fascinated grin.

"Well, I can't let him leave without sending him my regards, now can I."

"Please! I have a family. I don't want to die! I'll do anything you ask, just don't kill me!" The man was all but screaming.

Sygil dropped him like he was something filthy, striding past without even giving a second glance.

"Good boy," he called to his hound. "Thank you for being patient for your master. You can go back to your meal now."

"Wh-wha?! Pleas- ARHGH!"

The sound of flesh being devoured and armour torn asunder echoed behind Sygil as he strode more into the open.

Now. Where do you think you're going?

Sygil watched as the three horses kept galloping. They weren't too far out of range yet, probably 300 hundred metres by now.

He levelled his handgun, sighting the middle rider, who was dressed the most elaborately.

"Now hold your horses," he joked, chuckling at his own pun.

The gunshot rang true and loud, and nought but a second later, a distant scream could be heard with the middle horse tumbling and rider falling off unceremoniously. The other two horses slowed down and began to backtrack to their fallen comrade.

Meanwhile, Sygil began to briskly walk over. There was no rush after all.

One of the riders began to help the other fallen rider up onto the second horse.

"Oh no you don't."

He aimed his Desert Eagle, and let loose another round, tearing straight through the horse which let out a strangled cry on pain, knocking over the first rider, and throwing the second off.

The third rider pulled a bow out and aimed at Sygil, but a quick aim at his head, and the prick suddenly was short of it.

The head exploded, showering blood and steel on top of the other riders. The horse, startled, darted off in a random direction, leaving the two original riders laying on the ground, desperately trying to stand up.

The pained cries of the two horses grew louder and louder as he approached.

By the time he got close enough, he could make out the two riders more clearly.

One was obviously the head commander, judging by the highly decorated suit of armour, complete with feathers and cape. The other rider was probably a body guard, dressed in much more elaborate armour than his slain counterparts, but not as impressive as the first rider.

They both drew their swords as he approached.

"Back the hell away right now!" Screamed the ornate first rider, who, upon closer examination, was much more portly than the other, suggesting he was not a regular warrior.

"You shouldn't leave animals to suffer," intoned Sygil dryly.

Goddamit I missed the fat fuck and hit the horse.

He internally berated himself for his sloppy aim.

"Shutup! Shutup! Shut the fuck up! Who the fuck are you!"

"I believe I should be asking you?"

"I'm Baron Joyce. A noble! You have no right to approach me and threaten me like this! I'll have you strung and skinned you savage!"

"Oh? You and what army? The one that's now dead?"

"Witchcraft," snarled the Baron.

Sygil responded by aiming his gun at the second riders face and pulling the trigger before he could react.

The Baron ducked down as brain and bone flew everywhere.

The corpse hit the ground, while the horses still screamed in pain.

"Oh, will you shutup!" Spat Sygil, aiming his handgun at the first horses head and shooting it. The second horse continued to scream until Sygil shot its head also.

They were put out of their misery, and now Sygil could hear his own thoughts properly.

"You're a coward! Where's the honour of using a sword! Answer me you bastard!"

Sygil rolled his eyes in response.

"Oh don't patronise me. You ambushed me. There was no honourable fight there."

"Then let's correct that. I challenge you to a duel. If you win, I'll forget your transgressions against me!"

Sygil couldn't help but widen his eyes as laughter threatened to erupt.

"A duel? Ha. HAHAHA!"

At Baron had his sword aimed at Sygil, staring intently at him.

Before the Baron could react, Sygil aimed his gun at the man's large right knee, and fired.

Joyce let out an agonised scram as muscle sinew and tissue erupted, his patella shattering, and his calf flew off behind him, leaving him to crash face-first into the ground.

"Haha. No. Fuck you, and fuck your honour," spat Sygil with a cruel smirk. That smirk quickly morphed into a sneer as Sygil approached the wounded man.

Sygil reached down and grabbed the man by his bushy beard, before roughly hoisting him up, ignoring his pained screams.

"You come onto my territory and wage war with me. You slaughter my workers, destroy my base, and kill my soldiers. And then, you have the audacity to demand an honourable duel?"

Sygil aimed his gun at the baron's remaining knee, and pulled the trigger.

Baron Joyce howled out in pain as his other leg was nearly blown off, holding on by a few meaty strands.

"That's what I think of your honour. Now, you can compensate me for all your trouble by answering a few questions of mine."

The man was starting to cry, tears leaking down his cheeks as he was lost in his own world of pain.

"Why did you attack me."

"F-fuck! Fuck you!"

Sygil felt his sneer deepen, so he dropped the man on his back onto the ground, before aiming at his crotch.

Joyce seemed to realise at the last second what was happening, but it was too late.

"N-no. Wait –ARGH!"

His scream was almost louder than the gunshot itself.

"Wrong answer," snarled Sygil.

"That's one testicle gone. Do you want me to do the other? Cos I can do this all day, it matters not to me."

The man continued to scream, however.

Sygil rolled his eyes.

"Like I said, that's not the answer I want. Guess you don't want the other one." He aimed at the mans crotch again, but this time the man had the sense to exit his own painful world and answer in a more timely and appropriate manner.

"C-C-Clair!" The words bubbled out wetly, as blood and saliva leaked from his mouth.

"Clair?" Repeated Sygil indifferently.

"C-Clair!" He repeated.

"Sh-she, a-and her husband… Beovhan… th-they sent for us."

Sygil loomed over the man, an ominous look across his face.

"You better elaborate real fucking quick, otherwise I'm going to rearrange your genitals into a cunt."

The man panicked, whimpering out in agony, each word a painful struggle.

"W-we received a letter fr-from Reginold. It was from Clair and Beovhan. I-t said they had been overrun, tortured and stolen from!"

Sygil waved the gun, not caring for the man's suffering.

"Go on."

"C-count Iselk, and Viscount Vraun Schlauss agreed with sending an army. W-we liberate Merigold, and at the same time, Clair and Beovhan 'die' in the raid, r-removing any competition."

"Well, what do you know. You learn something new everyday." Sygil almost sounded incredulous.

"P-please," the Baron.

Sygil stood up straight, a snarl plastered across his face as he aimed the hand-gun at the Baron's head.

"You disgusting piece of shit. You really fucked everything up for me. You and your noble friends."

"W-wait! Please!"

Those were the Baron's last words as he pulled the trigger, snapping the Baron's head into the dirt below him, spraying brain matter and blood in a long, bloody strak below him.

"Soooo. Clair, huh. I should have known."

Sygil clenched his gun in absolute fury.

You fucked up big time you little bitch.

---

When Sygil got back to the hill where Maxmillian and the other demihumans and mercenaries were, the remaining invaders had all been slaughtered, with only a handful of officers captured.

Maxmillian saw him approach, and quickly ran over to greet him.

"Sir. We've finished routing the enemy forces. No-one managed to escape. We have six officers captured for interrogation, as you ordered sir. The rest, unfortunately, died in the earlier attacks."

Sygil stopped, his eyes hardened.

"Maxmillian," he began slowly.

"Yes sir?"

"I want a damage report by the time I arrive. Gather everyone that is alive. I want everyone at the front of the mansion when I get back. Including Clair and Beovhan."

"Right away sir. And, the new prisoners?"

"Bring them as well. The more for the show, the merrier," chuckled Sygil darkly, his cryptic words making Maxmillian tilt his head. Regardless, he complied.

As he left, shouting orders to the remaining survivors, Sygil surveyed the smouldering ruins of his base sourly. A scowl washed across his face as he thought darkly.

You fucked up big time Clair.

---

AN:

So, I love action scenes, espeically in film and shows, but man, writing them sucks. It's very difficult to write a fight before it becomes lost in a boring jumble of words that feel stretched out. I tried to keep it interesting, and focus on pushing the plot rather than regurgitating 'flashy' moves that become lost in the web of words.

Speaking of fight scenes, Yggdrasil spells are not my forte, and I kinda struggle. With Hans and Maxmillian, I took inspiration from the perks used in the RTS Company of Heroes, seeing as they are bth more akin to officer NPCs. They are leaders, less so fighters, so I figured their attributes should be more tactical than straight out flashy. I'll explore more as the story progresses, but feel free to list some potential spells and abilities for me to use as it is a little dilemma I am facing with this story. I'll credit if I do.

Now, I've noticed several people asking the question, when will Sygil get use his guns, if at all? Well, here they are, and yes, gunboat negotiations will become a thing. Sygil's a demon. He gets what he wants, no matter what.

Next chapter's gonna be messy. I'll see you around next week on January 22nd, this time without delays. Peace.