I don't own Star vs. The Forces of Evil, it belongs to its original Author.
AN: Chapters will be around 6 to maybe 7 or even 8 K words, of course if I see the chapter has a perfect ending I won't stretch it further.
Ask in comments or mail, your suggestions, and questions, I will answer them in the next chapters. This book I plan to be around 100 K words.
Chapter 1- Next time skip
Marco Ubaldo Diaz—that was the name given to him by his parents, Rafael and Angelica Diaz. At fifteen, he accepted the challenge of a fiery goddess, or perhaps deity, whomever she truly was.
Marco spent nearly ten years hunting down Hekapoo's clones across the Neverzone. Traveling from one place to another, he never stayed more than a week in any location, always driven by the desire to return to his planet and his friends, whose names felt like distant memories.
Throughout his journey in the wastelands, Marco earned several titles: Butcher, Kingslayer, Dragon King, Khaine's Ruler, and many more. These were not just names; they were symbols of the man he had become and the deeds he had done.
The Neverzone, a place where common rules did not apply, was a harsh and brutal wasteland ruled by the strongest and wealthiest. Mothers sold themselves to feed their children, and children were sold as slaves. It was a land where Marco had to quickly adapt or perish. Whenever a child approached him, he would place his hand on Khaine, his sword, effectively scaring them off. Yet, he helped those he deemed genuine, saving children destined for a grim fate at the hands of monstrous buyers.
However, not everyone deserved saving. Marco killed many—those mad with power, families who tried to kill him, and children ordered to steal from him or take his life. Life in the Neverzone demanded constant vigilance; one slept with one eye open and a sword in hand. In such a brutal land, one had to become even more brutal to survive.
"Somewhere here," Marco muttered, his eyes scanning the map before him. He stood at the edge of a vast, magically potent forest.
His trusty hoodie, now worn as a scarf around his neck, was mostly intact, though he had long abandoned his favorite pair of jeans, outgrown and ripped. On his back was Khaine, the blade he took after defeating a Necromancer years ago. The battle had been hard-won, but in the end, Marco struck down the monster and claimed the sword. Khaine was semi-conscious, instantly recognizing Marco as its new master. It looked like a typical long sword, but its true power lay in its ability to consume the blood of its opponents, growing stronger with each kill.
Entering the forest, Marco stepped carefully onto the soft grass, ever mindful of hidden dangers. Khaine warmed against his back, a reassuring presence ready to act. His eyes scanned the path, branches, leaves, and tree barks, knowing that a single mistake could be fatal. His survival in the Neverzone had been due to his caution and paranoia.
"When you see the crooked tree with a face-like resemblance, turn left," Marco reminded himself, recalling the elder's words from the last village. One of Hekapoo's clones was rumored to be in this forest.
"Antidotes, check. Good," he said, quickly checking his small bag for the vital vials. The Forest of Netlings was home to giant spiders with potent venom, and Marco had no intention of making it his graveyard.
Trudging on, Marco unsheathed Khaine, ready for whatever lay ahead. The forest was silent, save for the whisper of leaves in the wind. He knew better than to trust this quiet; danger lurked in every shadow.
With every step, he felt the weight of his journey, the memories of the past ten years pressing upon him. But Marco Diaz was no longer the fifteen-year-old who had entered the Neverzone. He was a warrior, hardened by the trials he had faced, and he would not be easily defeated.
His senses were right; the forest wasn't inhabited only by spiders. On his way to its heart, he battled Centaurs and Harpies. His body was covered in cuts and bruises from the rough fights. Centaurs were formidable opponents, their strong horse-like lower bodies proving extremely dangerous, and their aim with bows and crossbows as precise as a hawk's.
Harpies were easier to deal with; they feared fire. Lighting a torch was enough to scare most of them away. A few managed to scratch him with their talons, but those injuries were minor compared to the ones inflicted by the Centaurs.
Khaine glowed with a faint red light, having drunk the blood of the Centaurs. It was now more powerful and easier for Marco to wield.
"Finally," Marco muttered to himself as he glared at the wooden hut in the middle of a small clearing. The ground around the house was scorched from the ever-present fire that surrounded Hekapoo.
He sheathed his sword, slinging it onto his back. His interactions with the fiery goddess always started calm but eventually led to a fight, and Marco usually came out on top.
Opening the door with a creak, Marco stepped inside. Warmth enveloped him instantly. It was one of the best things about Hekapoo; her places were always comfortable, no matter how extreme the weather outside was.
"Ah, human, I was beginning to wonder if I'd have to save your ass again," came the voice of the scissors' maker from down the hall. Marco closed the door behind him and looked down the hallway, spotting the smirking, white-skinned woman. He huffed in annoyance and walked toward her.
"That was one time only, and only because I was drunk," Marco said with a frown, stopping in front of the now-laughing Hekapoo. He was taller than her by at least a head.
"Yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that. I remember it differently," Hekapoo chuckled, turning around and walking into the living room. Marco followed, his frown still in place.
"So, muscles, how was your travel here?" Hekapoo asked as she sat on her comfortable couch, while Marco took a seat in one of the bigger chairs.
"I got scratched by Harpies and nearly killed by Centaurs," Marco deadpanned, taking his sword from his back and laying it against the armrest of his chair. Hekapoo glanced at it briefly.
"I thought you expected something like this. Don't tell me you thought it would be easy to find me," Hekapoo replied, her smirk still present. She crossed her arms under her breasts, catching Marco's attention.
"Yes, I expected rainbows, a warm meal, and happiness all around," he said, rolling his eyes at her usual talk, which only made her laugh, her upper body shaking.
"Maybe next time I should implement that in an illusion. Let's see how you get through that," Hekapoo teased, quickly composing herself but not losing her smirk. With a snap of her fingers, a bottle of alcohol appeared in her hand, along with two wine glasses on the small table between them.
"Tell me, muscles, how many of my clones have you hunted down already?" Hekapoo asked, making Marco frown and raise an eyebrow. She didn't need to ask; she always knew when one of her clones was killed.
"Why ask that? You know how many clones I've killed. And please, stop calling me muscles," Marco said, accepting the glass of ruby-colored alcohol. Seeing Hekapoo take a sip from her glass, he took one as well—no one could be too careful here.
"I'm just interested if you keep track or something. Besides, the nickname 'muscles' fits you perfectly," Hekapoo said, looking Marco up and down, wiggling her eyebrows all the way.
"Yeah, yeah, I've grown compared to my younger years. I look more like my father now," Marco said, a hint of nostalgia in his voice. He barely remembered his parents, knowing their faces but often forgetting their names.
Hekapoo's smirk faded at the mention of his family. She still couldn't fathom the stubbornness of this human, to forsake his life and accept a challenge that only one person in thousands of years had managed to accomplish. Even the Butterfly family had kept the same pair of her scissors for the past 700 years.
"Yeah, your family, Earth, friends. Don't you think you've given up enough, Marco? Don't you want to just give up and return?" Hekapoo asked, taking another sip of her wine. She looked at the human across from her and saw him smile a little.
"Yes…sometimes I just want to give up, especially after seeing how messed up this place is," Marco admitted, his mood shifting from comfortable to somber.
"Did you know that on Earth I was called 'Safe Kid'?" Marco asked, not expecting an answer. Silence fell over the living room, broken only by the crackling of the fire in the next room. Hekapoo didn't interrupt him; she knew sometimes people needed to vent.
"I hated it. I always wanted to be known as more than 'safe kid Marco Diaz,' but no matter what, I couldn't shake the nickname. I was just…afraid, I think," Marco said, swirling the wine in his glass, watching the ruby liquid move around.
"Afraid of getting into the wrong group of friends, of disappointing my parents, of seeing their sad faces if the cops escorted me home. I was afraid to step out of my comfort zone," Marco added, now looking at the wall behind Hekapoo, who remained silent.
"But here…here in the Neverzone, after you proposed the challenge to get the scissors…I felt alive. I knew this was my chance to change my life. For the first time, I don't know, I felt alive," Marco shrugged and smiled, his eyes locking onto Hekapoo, who watched him with interest.
"But is it really worth it, losing your family, your friends, your previous life?" Hekapoo asked, her wine forgotten in favor of the human in front of her.
"I don't really know. It was always hard at first…the times I forgot my mother's name, who my best friend was, who I had a crush on," Marco said, his smile still present but hollow.
"It still sometimes hurts, when I have dreams about people I can't remember, friends saying things I don't understand. It hurts like hell," Marco said, swallowing the rest of his wine in a few gulps. Placing his glass on the table between them, he already felt the beverage kicking in.
"But I feel alive now. Sure, I want to return home someday, but first I want to finish what I started here," Marco said. Sensing the conversation's end, he grabbed Khaine from his side. As he stood up, he swayed; the alcohol was stronger than he had anticipated.
"Don't worry, Marco, soon you will enjoy yourself even more," Hekapoo smiled at him. She really didn't want to do this, but the events were beyond her control. Glossaryck had given clear orders.
"W-What do you mean?" Marco stuttered as his vision began to swim. He stumbled and fell to the floor, his body swaying slightly, his sword barely held in his hand.
"Just listen to me, muscles. Relax, and everything will be alright. Don't fight it," Hekapoo said as she knelt beside him. Gently taking the sword from his grasp, she sheathed it on his back. It would be bad if he suddenly lost it.
Seeing the man lying on the floor with barely open eyes made Hekapoo smile fondly. It reminded her of those years ago when she saved him. It was one of the moments they worked together, a time that sadly would never come again.
"Good luck, muscles. You will need it," Hekapoo said, patting his shoulder. She stood up and swiftly left the room, ignoring the bright light. Hekapoo entered her forge, where she was working on the newest pair of scissors.
Picking up the black and red-colored tool, Hekapoo traced her white fingers over the name on the handle. Marco would have made such a good owner of these, but fate had other plans for him.
Grabbing the scissors in her hands, she applied a huge amount of heat, melting them in her grasp. Opening her palms, she allowed the hot liquid to fall into the forge, ready to be used for the next pair of scissors.
Marco groaned as he felt the hard ground beneath him. Scowling, he slowly sat up, berating himself for lowering his guard. He should have known better than to trust Hekapoo when she offered him something.
Gazing around, Marco saw trees—green trees and nothing else. It seemed Hekapoo had transported him to some other forest or perhaps back to the beginning.
"Dammit… I really should know better," Marco muttered to himself as he stood up. Stretching, he took Khaine from his back, finding it unusually warm and heavy. The last time he felt a weapon this heavy was before he trained his body.
Looking down, his eyebrows shot up. He was smaller—much smaller than before. What had Hekapoo done to shrink him so much? The clothes he had on were now too big for his body.
Spotting a small lake nearby, he rushed towards it, fearing the worst. Quickly looking into his reflection, his stomach sank. He saw a younger version of himself, maybe six or even seven years younger than he was before this incident.
Falling onto his back, Marco stared at the dark clouds in the sky. All those years of training, all this time spent honing his skills—wasted because Hekapoo pulled some trick on him.
"Goddammit!" Marco yelled, sitting up. Looking at Khaine, he saw the blade pulsing slightly, sensing its confusion, mirroring his own.
"Don't worry, my friend. We'll figure out what's going on," Marco said, standing up and sheathing Khaine on his back. With a sigh, he started walking in a random direction, hoping to find some form of civilization.
Marco didn't recognize the terrain. The grass was soft, the trees were normal, and the air was light instead of its usual heavy stench. Had Hekapoo transported him to another part of the dimension or, worse, to an entirely different one? The thought made him shudder. It would mean adapting to a new world and finding a way back to the Neverzone. He hoped he was mistaken and had just appeared in a different part of the world.
After walking for what felt like hours, he was beginning to tire. If he were still in his normal body, this walk would have been a breeze. Sighing, Marco rested against a tree, gathering himself. He decided to rest for a few minutes before continuing.
"Where the hell is some sort of pathway?" Marco muttered, leaning against the tree. Khaine was cold against his back, resting for now.
"Just wait, Hekapoo. When I get my hands on you, you'll regret this," Marco huffed, irritated with the current situation. Transporting him to another part of the Neverzone was one thing. He could find his way out and figure out where he was. Being teleported to another dimension was more problematic, but still manageable. But to transport him somewhere and reverse his age? That was pure evil.
Finally catching his breath, Marco resumed his walk in a random direction, keeping close to a small river. At the end of this waterway, he hoped to find a village or outpost with people. Hopefully, they would be friendly.
"Toffee ordered us to check the forest every few hours, in case Solaria's soldiers try to surprise us. We can't give them an advantage by splitting our forces," Marco heard a strong voice from his side. Quickly pressing his back against a tree, he waited, ears straining to catch every sound.
"I know, I know. It's just so boring. There's nothing interesting going on. I want to fight! I want to kill a few Mewmans!" another voice responded angrily. Marco could hear several pairs of feet moving in his direction. Slowly, he reached for Khaine, which started to warm up, sensing the oncoming fight. Closing his eyes, he tried to picture where the monsters were.
"Shut up already. We have our task. If you don't like it, I can assign you to cleaning toilets," the first man angrily retorted. This was good; Marco knew an angry enemy was easier to kill—they made more mistakes.
"I don't care. It would be better than walking through this stupid forest for General Toffee, who's too afraid to engage the enemy," the voice huffed. They were getting close. Now with his sword unsheathed, Marco waited for the right moment to strike.
"Listen, if you don't stop whining, someone will hear you and alert Solaria's soldiers," a third, calmer voice said. Marco cringed inwardly; calm opponents were harder to deal with.
"Shut up, all of you, or—" The leader didn't finish. As soon as he turned his head toward his companions, he felt a sharp tug at his neck. Glancing down, he saw a blade sticking out of his lower neck, dark red blood streaming to the ground.
Marco yanked Khaine from the monster's neck, causing him to collapse in his armor. The weapon clattered at his side as the monster took his last breaths. Marco faced the remaining two: one a lizard-like beast with green scales and yellow eyes, wielding a sword and wearing leather armor; the other a massive creature with a giant axe, comparable to a golem—slow but deadly at close range.
"I told you to keep quiet!" the lizard hissed before rushing at Marco, sword raised above his head. Marco sidestepped the strike, the sword slamming into the ground.
He prepared Khaine for a thrust, but had to retreat a few steps, narrowly dodging the lizard's tail. Putting some distance between himself and the two monsters, Marco assumed a defensive stance, bending his knees and holding Khaine at waist height, its tip pointed between the two enemies.
The seconds stretched as they sized each other up until the giant with the axe charged at him. With an ear-splitting roar, the monster swung his axe diagonally. Ducking under the powerful strike, Marco felt the axe blade slice the air above him.
Hearing the axe hit the tree, Marco seized the opportunity to strike. Bringing his sword up from below, he severed the giant's forearm. Blood erupted from the wound, and the monster bellowed in pain. Marco retreated again, focusing on the lizard, only to find an empty spot.
Quickly turning, Marco managed to block an attack aimed at his head. The lizard had sneaked up behind him. Parrying the next strike, Marco groaned; his younger body couldn't withstand such powerful blows.
For the next minute, Marco could do nothing but parry, each block feeling like a hammer blow to his arms. The sound of clashing swords filled the air. Fortunately, the lizard didn't use his tail to trip him, which would have made things even harder.
Sweating and exhausted, Marco realized his younger body was much weaker than he anticipated. If he hadn't regressed, he could have killed all three monsters easily in a matter of minutes. But now, he struggled just to parry without getting hurt.
Looking around between each parry, Marco spotted the tree where the axe was still embedded. The handle could give him an advantage. The giant lay on the ground, grunting in pain, a pool of blood around his torso. He would bleed out soon.
Stepping back towards the axe, Marco continued to defend himself. Each strike from the lizard felt heavier than the last. But Marco had something the monsters lacked: imagination.
Feeling the axe handle behind him, Marco stepped aside just as the lizard brought his weapon down. The sword struck the handle, embedding itself but not cutting all the way through.
Marco used the opening to thrust Khaine into the lizard's side, where the leather armor didn't protect. He scrunched his face, tensing his muscles to push the sword as deep as possible.
Releasing Khaine, Marco stepped back a few feet, panting. The lizard whined, the sword buried deep in his side. He tried to pull it out but couldn't budge it. Glaring at Marco, the monster supported himself against the tree.
Marco took a minute to catch his breath. Then he approached the monster, who was now barely conscious. He wasn't going to kill him yet; he had learned that letting an opponent die slowly, realizing their helplessness, often yielded valuable information.
"I can help you. I can take out the sword and patch your wounds. But you have to answer a few questions," Marco said, kneeling in front of the lizard, who glared at him with yellow eyes.
"Go to Hell… Mewman scum," the lizard spat on Marco's shirt, making him blink. Without another word, Marco gripped Khaine's handle and began to twist the blade slowly. It was a painful process, but he got the reaction he wanted.
The monster screamed, eyes wide, hands clutching at Marco's to stop the pain.
"Answer my questions, and I'll help you," Marco said calmly, his hand still gripping the sword handle. The lizard's grip was surprisingly strong despite the blood loss.
"Alright, alright… just stop!" the monster yelled. Marco slowly let go of the handle, and the lizard released his grip on Marco's hand.
"Tell me everything you know. Start with this Toffee guy and Solaria," Marco ordered, squatting in front of the monster, who was now barely alive. He hoped to get some valuable information before the creature died.
Marco learned some valuable intel from the lizard before it died. First, there was Toffee, or as the monsters called him, Grand General Toffee. He was a Septarian, a race known for their toughness. They could regenerate limbs and survive fatal injuries. Their strength was unmatched among monsters; they were quick, nimble, and adept at using the terrain to their advantage. From what Marco gathered, this 'Toffee' guy was even better than the average Septarian.
If the regeneration wasn't enough, the rumors surrounding Toffee were both amazing and terrifying. Marco rarely encountered a monster capable of ensnaring enemies in traps and defeating much larger forces without a single loss. Toffee was in a league of his own.
The lizard also mentioned Toffee's fighting style. Marco was used to more barbaric styles in the Neverzone, where opponents usually rushed blindly at him. Occasionally, he met someone who used their head, but Toffee was different. He used two swords and even his tail, giving him three limbs to attack with. He was also extremely sneaky, never engaging more than two opponents at a time unless he was sure of victory, always striking from the shadows or from a blind spot.
It was a cowardly tactic, but effective. If the enemy couldn't see you, they couldn't hurt you. Marco had used this strategy himself when outnumbered, knowing he wouldn't win in open combat.
Then there were Solaria, or rather Queen Solaria Butterfly. The Butterfly name was familiar. Marco remembered hearing it from his friend on Earth, Star. She had the same surname as Solaria, but the connection between them was unclear.
From what little info he gained, Queen Solaria was a formidable ruler and a deadly enemy of all monsters. She was rumored to have slaughtered thousands of monsters by herself in one giant battle between the two races. Marco found it farfetched; no matter how powerful you were, killing thousands in one battle was ridiculous. Even Hekapoo with her clones would struggle to achieve that.
But every tale had a grain of truth. Solaria was undoubtedly a powerful warrior. Marco didn't know all the facts, but he could safely say the war was prolonged. The lizard had said the war between Monsters and Mewmans was already in full swing when he was born. Hard times create hard people. Mewmans were probably trained for war from their first steps.
Marco also learned he was on Mewni, a planet initially inhabited by Monsters, then Mewmans, and other races that migrated there. He didn't know much about the kingdoms here. The lizard died before he could ask more.
"If I have to help them with this war, I swear I'll kill myself," Marco muttered as he finally exited the forest. Ahead, he spotted wooden walls with a castle behind them. Sighing in frustration, Marco marched towards the gates. They were a few hundred feet away, but even from this distance, he could see guards patrolling the walls. Khaine had already cleansed itself of the monsters' blood.
Now, his only worry was a stray arrow striking his head. Hopefully, they would recognize he wasn't a monster and allow him entry into their kingdom.
"Halt, who goes there? Identify yourself!" Marco stopped at the yell from the gates. Raising his hands in a peaceful manner, he answered.
"My name is Marco Diaz, and I came from the Neverzone, or if you prefer, Dimension X-103!" he shouted back. For a few minutes, there was no response. Just as Marco thought he was being ignored, the voice called out again.
"The Captain wants to speak with you. Come in!" The gates began to open. Marco lowered his hands and quickly stepped towards the opening. He saw soldiers clad in iron armor on the walls, their gazes fixed on him.
Stepping inside, Marco looked around. Tents were scattered everywhere, with soldiers moving about. The nearest ones were staring at him. It was expected; he was new here, and his clothes were rather unusual.
"Our Captain wants to hear your story. You better not do anything stupid," a voice said. Marco turned to his left and saw two people walking towards him. The one in front was a bulky man with silver armor adorned with red decorations. A sword hung at his hip. He had brown shoulder-length hair and a mustache, his blue eyes piercing into Marco's soul.
Walking slightly behind the man was a woman in silver armor with red decorations. She had blonde hair tied in a ponytail and carried a great sword on her back.
"Marco Diaz, a pleasure to meet you both," Marco nodded to each of them. The two soldiers returned his greeting, albeit stiffly.
"I am Sir Alfred, and this lady is my squire and vice officer of my group. As I said previously, our General wants to see you," Alfred said, his face set in a constant frown, perhaps out of distrust.
"Lead the way then," Marco shrugged, unsure of what else to say. The two soldiers turned and marched toward the nest of tents, with Marco right behind them.
As they walked, Marco took the opportunity to glance at the surrounding soldiers. They were all wearing armor, confirming the lizard's information that they were always ready for a fight.
The silver armor glistened in the faint sunlight, and the aroma of food assaulted Marco's nose. He couldn't remember the last time he had a cooked meal, let alone stew or meat.
He even saw a few catapults at the far end of the garrison. They were prepared for anything.
Marco and his escort arrived at a much larger tent than the others. While the other tents were plain white with insignias he could only guess belonged to Solaria, this one was red with golden themes.
"The General is waiting," Alfred said before marching off, followed closely by his squire. Marco took a deep breath and stepped inside, pushing aside the flaps.
Marco's eyes took in the interior of the tent. It wasn't richly decorated, indicating the Butterfly Kingdom's wealth. Instead, everything was on the solid ground, with patches of grass growing here and there.
"So you're the one from the Neverzone?" asked the General. He was a tall man clad in dark silver armor. In the middle of the room was a table covered with maps and chess pieces—a strategy table. Marco approached it.
"That's right, sir. I don't know what happened, but somehow Hekapoo transported me here," Marco said bluntly. The General looked up from the table, his green eyes locking onto Marco's. Marco held the gaze as long as necessary.
"Interesting. Alright, go to the Quartermaster. He will give you an overview of your duties in the Kingdom. Or, if you're brave, you can join the front lines," the General said. Marco blinked, surprised at how easy it was to gain approval to enter the city.
"What? Did you expect an interrogation? Then you're mistaken, kid. I have more important things to do than listen to stories," the General said with a huff, turning back to his maps. Marco silently slipped out of the tent.
"That was easy," he muttered to himself, looking around. He had no idea where the Quartermaster was.
"Excuse me, can you point me to the Quartermaster?" Marco asked one of the passing knights. The knight showed him the path deeper into the garrison.
"Go straight and turn at the third tent," the soldier said before continuing his march. Marco walked in the direction he was shown.
Sure enough, he saw a wooden sign with the word 'Quartermaster' painted on it.
"Excuse me, the General sent me here," Marco called out as he walked inside. He saw many boxes and bags, probably containing food, clothes, and other supplies for soldiers. Hearing rustling from the other section of the tent, Marco waited. Soon, a bulky, bald man with a massive beard walked out, carrying two bags on his shoulders.
"Ah, a new face. It's a surprise to see someone new in this part of the Butterfly Kingdom," the man said in a gruff voice. He was much taller than Marco. Placing the heavy bags on the ground near Marco, he dusted his hands and extended one towards him.
"I am Bruce, the Quartermaster of this section of the wall," the man said with a smile. Marco shook his hand and greeted him back.
"My name is Marco Diaz. I came here because…honestly, I don't know. I was in the Neverzone getting a pair of scissors, and now I'm here," Marco shrugged. He knew he should be more protective of his stuff with Hekapoo, but if he understood things properly, it wouldn't matter anymore.
"Tough luck, kid. I've heard only a handful passed the Test of the Forge," Bruce said, leaning against a pile of barrels. He seemed both impressed and skeptical.
"Well, I didn't finish the test because I was transported here, but to tell the truth… I think it's better that way," Marco said, crossing his arms and staring at the ground.
"I've heard horrible things about the Neverzone…slavery, power plays, corruption, and things I'd rather not talk about. Are any of them true?" Bruce asked with a frown. The tales about the Neverzone and the Forger of the Scissors were sometimes ridiculous.
"Slavery, yes. Only the powerful rule the kingdoms—those who have either raw power or money…among other things," Marco responded, shaking his head to clear it. The memories of life in Neverzone surfaced, and they were not pleasant.
"Let's move away from this sappy stuff. You said you want to know what you can do, right?" Bruce said, changing the topic as he saw the kid in front of him lost in thought. Stepping behind a makeshift counter made from barrels, he took out a few pieces of paper and laid them in front of Marco.
"Well, Marco… I'll be frank. You lived in Neverzone; you know how war looks. Are you capable of fighting?" Bruce asked. He wasn't treating him like a child—Neverzone had a way of turning children into men by the age of three.
"Sure am. I was, after all, tested by Hekapoo. I learned how to fight," Marco nodded and looked at the papers. They listed various roles he could take on: blacksmith, farmer, miner, etc. Everything was good, but he aimed for something that would put his skills to good use. And what better than participating in a war?
"Okay, then we can cross out the rest. That leaves us with frontline, archery, field medic, and engineer," Bruce said, removing the other papers. What remained were four sheets, each describing a different field he could join.
"Frontline. I know how to shoot bows and crossbows, but…it's not for me. I need to use Khaine well," Marco said, immediately regretting his slip. If word got out about the bloodthirsty sword, he could be in serious trouble.
"Khaine? That's an odd name for a sword," Bruce raised an eyebrow, glancing at the oddly shaped blade on Marco's back.
"… Yeah, Khaine. You have to swear that this information won't leave this tent," Marco glared at Bruce, whose eyebrows merely rose higher on his bald head.
"Alright, you have my word, kid. Nothing will leave this tent," Bruce said, intrigued. He leaned against the barrels, watching as Marco took the sword from his back. It was a beautifully crafted blade: straight like any other sword, but with a red line running from the handle to the tip, pulsing every few seconds. Without that detail, Bruce might have dismissed it as a common blade.
"Khaine's sword. I got it from a Necromancer in Neverzone. The bastard was hard to kill—you know, resurrection, magic, and all that," Marco explained. He was weak in terms of magical knowledge; he had learned how to recognize many types of magic, but spells were something he never had the time or patience to master.
"I see. Death magic is forbidden in Mewni. Even having a book that mentions necromancy can land you in jail for the rest of your life," Bruce commented. As the Quartermaster, he had read many books and heard many stories from people.
"The blade must be powerful if the Necromancer created it, right?" Bruce asked, his keen eyes tracing the smallest details of the blade that seemed almost alive, or at least imbued with some sort of consciousness.
"Yeah, it's powerful. It's also dangerous," Marco said softly, feeling the weight of the sword in his hand. "The Necromancer said it was bound to me now. It craves blood, and I have to be careful how I use it."
Bruce nodded, taking in Marco's words. "We can use someone like you on the frontlines. Just be mindful of your weapon. War is already unpredictable; we don't need any more wild cards."
Marco appreciated Bruce's straightforwardness. "Thanks, Bruce. I'll do my best."
With that, Bruce handed Marco the paper for the frontline role. "Welcome to the Butterfly Kingdom's army, Marco. May your blade serve you well."
AN: The first attempt at this kind of thing, I never wrote a book before, the longest thing I ever did was a project for school, so any advices and corrections will be appreciated. I don't want to make this a child-friendly, there will be pain, blood and lots of brutality, it's a war after all.