The air in Veymar's lower district was thick with the scent of smoke, damp stone, and the metallic tang of blood.Unlike the rigid, disciplined strongholds of the Dark Elf military, the mercenary quarter of the city was a chaotic sprawl, guild houses built upon one another in mismatched layers, black-market traders operating from the shadows, and narrow alleyways where deals were struck in whispers and betrayals were sealed with blades.
Everywhere Evolis looked, there were signs of war.
Smiths hammered out weapons infused with dark Etherion, their embers flickering like dying stars against the soot-stained sky. Bounty hunters haggled over contracts, their armor stained with past victories and failures alike. Mercenaries exchanged war stories, voices raised in competition over whose tale held the most bloodshed.
To any outsider, this place would seem like a city preparing for battle.To Evolis, it was a den of vultures waiting to see which side bled first.
He adjusted the straps of his armor, ensuring his disguise blended seamlessly into the crowd. His pointed ears, a detail carefully crafted through illusion magic, flickered under the dim glow of the district's lanterns. No one spared him a second glance. Here, he was just another sell-sword among hundreds.
Beside him, Aeliana stood near a stone pillar, her silver hair hidden beneath the hood of her cloak. She observed their surroundings with practiced calm, but Evolis could sense the sharp focus behind her emerald eyes.
"Orion is taking his damn time," she murmured, crossing her arms.
Evolis smirked. "You worried about him?"
Aeliana scoffed. "Not in the slightest. I just don't like waiting in places where a fight could break out at any second."
Evolis took a step closer, leaning slightly into her space. "You know, for someone pretending to be a mercenary, you seem a little too tense."
She shot him a side glance. "I prefer battlefields where I know who my enemies are."
He chuckled, shaking his head. "Fair point."
Aeliana exhaled, her gaze momentarily drifting over the bustling street before falling back to him. "And what about you? You seem… comfortable here."
Evolis raised a brow. "You expected me to be nervous?"
She tilted her head. "No. But I didn't expect you to be so at ease either."
He glanced around, observing the mercenaries sizing each other up like predators in a confined space. The law of the strong ruled here, an unspoken hierarchy decided by who could kill and who could survive. It wasn't so different from the pantheon of the Go- Wait. Evolis felt like he was on the verge of remembering something important. It felt like when you have a word on the edge of your tongue yet you couldn't remember what you wanted to say. He shook his head as he replied to Aeliana.
"I've been in places like this before," he admitted, his voice quieter now. "Places where strength is the only currency that matters."
Aeliana studied him for a long moment before speaking. "Then you understand how dangerous it is to let your guard down."
Evolis smirked. "I don't let my guard down. I just don't waste energy looking paranoid."
Aeliana rolled her eyes but didn't argue. Instead, she shifted slightly, her fingers brushing against his hand as she adjusted her stance.
He noticed.
She didn't pull away.
The touch was brief, barely there, but it sent a ripple through him.
Evolis let the silence linger, feeling the weight of it settle between them. The battle-hardened princess and the human anomaly, standing together in the middle of a mercenary city where both of them had no business being.
Aeliana, as composed as ever, didn't acknowledge the moment. But she also didn't move away.
Evolis smirked. "You know, if you wanted to hold my hand, you could just say so."
Aeliana scoffed but still didn't let go. "You're an idiot."
"You're still holding it," he pointed out.
She sighed, shaking her head. "You're impossible."
"And yet, here we are," Evolis mused, fingers shifting slightly against hers, enjoying the warmth despite the cold steel of their surroundings.
Before Aeliana could retort, Orion's voice cut through the low hum of conversation.
"Alright, lovebirds," he called, strolling toward them with his usual lazy confidence, a dagger twirling effortlessly between his fingers. "We've got ourselves a gig."
Aeliana swiftly pulled her hand away, clearing her throat as if nothing had happened. Evolis bit back a grin.
She shot him a warning glare.
He only winked in response.
Orion either didn't notice or chose not to comment, though the slight twitch of amusement at the corner of his lips suggested the latter.
"That was fast," Aeliana said, shifting her focus back to the mission.
Orion grinned, flipping his dagger one last time before catching it between his fingers. "What can I say? People like me."
Evolis crossed his arms. "Or they were terrified of you."
"Both things can be true," Orion admitted, flashing a wink. "Anyway, we've been assigned to a supply transport mission heading toward the southern front. Routine job, nothing fancy."
Aeliana frowned. "If it's so routine, why would they give it to newcomers?"
"Because," Orion said, leaning in slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "these shipments have been getting hit. Hard. Raiders, enemy forces, no one knows for sure. Whatever's going on, they need bodies to guard it."
Evolis raised a brow. "And you think this is a good thing?"
"I think," Orion replied, his smirk sharpening, "that if we want to get deeper into their ranks, we need to prove we can handle a real fight. This is our chance."
Aeliana was silent for a moment before nodding. "Fine. When do we leave?"
Orion clapped his hands. "Dawn. So get some rest, kids. We're about to make our grand debut."
Evolis exhaled, glancing toward the darkened streets of Veymar. This city was full of secrets, full of dangers lurking just beyond the surface.
And he had the distinct feeling that they were just scratching the surface of something far more deadly than they had anticipated.
His golden eyes flickered toward Aeliana.
She was watching him, studying him, the barest hint of concern in her expression.
He smirked. "What, have you finally begun to notice how handsome I am?"
Aeliana scoffed, rolling her eyes. "No. Just wondering how long it'll take before Orion's recklessness gets us killed."
Orion placed a hand over his chest in mock offense. "Princess, you wound me."
"Keep calling me that and I'll do worse than wound you," she muttered.
Evolis chuckled, shaking his head as Orion laughed outright. "This is going to be fun," the older warrior mused.
As they turned toward the narrow alleys leading back to their hideout, Evolis stole one last glance at the mercenary quarter behind them.
He had a feeling things were about to get a lot more complicated.
And for some reason…
He couldn't wait.
The anticipation of battle often made the world feel heavier, as if the very air carried the weight of the inevitable.
The next morning, Veymar was still draped in shadows, the sun just beginning to paint the horizon in muted oranges and purples.
The trio rode alongside a dozen other mercenaries, a ragtag collection of warriors hardened by blood and greed. Some were grizzled veterans, their armor dented and scarred from countless battles. Others were younger, fresher, with eyes burning with ambition and recklessness.
The supply wagons rumbled over uneven ground, creaking beneath the weight of Etherion-infused weapons, rations, and medical supplies. These weren't mere shipments of food or basic equipment—this was war-grade material, the kind that determined whether a battle ended in victory or massacre.
Evolis sat atop his horse, his hood drawn low over his face, blending into the sea of mercenaries. His posture was relaxed, his hands loose around the reins, but his senses were sharp, keenly attuned to every movement, every sound.
He wasn't the only one scanning their surroundings.
Aeliana rode beside him, her silver hair tucked beneath her cloak, her emerald eyes taking in the landscape with quiet intensity. Her fingers hovered near the hilt of her blade, tapping idly against the leather grip, an unconscious habit that Evolis had come to recognize as a sign of unease.
Orion, on the other hand, rode with the ease of a man who had seen death a thousand times and still found amusement in the little things. He whistled a soft tune under his breath, his dagger twirling effortlessly between his fingers as he reclined slightly in the saddle.
It was an act, of course.
Evolis knew better than to believe Orion was as carefree as he looked. The older warrior was watching, calculating, observing the mercenaries around them with the kind of keen awareness that only came from a lifetime spent walking the line between life and death.
And he wasn't the only one who noticed something was off.
The men and women in this escort weren't ordinary guards.
Evolis had been in enough war camps to recognize the difference between hired blades looking for coin and killers who lived for the fight. These mercenaries weren't here for a simple escort job.
They were preparing for something.
Something dangerous.
The conversations drifting through the group only confirmed his suspicions.
A burly orc, his tusks yellowed and chipped from years of war, muttered under his breath as he adjusted the heavy war axe strapped across his back. "This ain't like the other runs."
The Dark Elf beside him, lean and sharp-eyed, gave a grim nod. "You hear what happened to the last convoy?"
"Yeah." The orc spat to the side. "Didn't even make it halfway to the front."
Evolis, his curiosity piqued, angled his horse slightly toward them. "What happened?"
The Dark Elf flicked his gaze toward him, assessing him for a brief moment before answering.
"Found the wagons burned. Bodies missing." His voice was low, edged with something Evolis couldn't quite place.
Evolis raised a brow. "Missing?"
The orc grunted. "Not just killed. Gone. No blood trails, no limbs, nothing. Just… vanished."
Aeliana, who had been silent, suddenly spoke. Her tone was casual, but Evolis could hear the carefully measured tension beneath it.
"Vanished how?"
The Dark Elf's expression darkened. "No sign of a struggle past the initial attack. Like whatever hit them wasn't interested in leaving bodies behind."
Silence stretched between them, thick and uneasy.
Evolis exchanged a glance with Aeliana. This wasn't a simple raid or ambush. Raiders took supplies, scavengers stripped corpses, but this? This sounded like something far worse.
"Could be Voidfiends," one of the younger mercenaries piped up from the back, shifting uncomfortably in his saddle. "You hear those horror stories about the ones up north? No bodies, no screams, just... empty silence before they disappear."
The orc snorted. "Voidfiends my ass. Those are just campfire tales to scare kids. Whatever took out the last convoy wasn't some fairy tale monster."
Orion, still twirling his dagger, finally spoke. "Doesn't really matter what did it, does it?" His silver eyes gleamed under the dim morning light. "We're gonna find out soon enough."
The group fell into a tense silence.
The only sounds were the rhythmic clatter of hooves against dirt and the distant howl of the wind through the barren trees.
Evolis flexed his fingers against the reins of his horse, his mind working through the implications. Who or what was targeting these supply convoys? If this wasn't just a case of rogue mercenary groups or enemy raids, then they were heading straight into something far more dangerous than they had anticipated.
He inhaled, calming the slight adrenaline spike in his system.
He had faced worse.
He would face this too.
Aeliana's voice pulled him back from his thoughts. It was softer now, just for him.
"You think this is normal?" she asked, her gaze still on the horizon.
Evolis smirked. "Nothing about this mission is normal."
Aeliana's lips twitched slightly, but the tension didn't leave her shoulders. "I hate not knowing what we're walking into."
Evolis nudged his horse a little closer to hers, their legs nearly brushing as they rode side by side. It was a small, almost imperceptible motion, but Aeliana noticed. Her fingers twitched against the reins.
"You'll figure it out," he said simply. "You always do."
She exhaled a quiet laugh, shaking her head. "Flattery now, of all times?"
"Not flattery," he corrected. "Just facts."
She rolled her eyes, but Evolis caught the way her grip on the reins loosened ever so slightly.
It was moments like this that felt dangerous in a way no battle ever had.
The way her presence settled so easily beside him. The way his attention always found her, even when it shouldn't. The way holding her hand last night had felt too natural to ignore.
His mind had no business drifting toward anything other than survival, but somehow, she always found a way in.
Evolis shook his head, exhaling slowly. Not now.
There were more pressing matters at hand.
Like the fact that they were likely walking into a death trap.
Orion, sensing the tension, let out a dramatic sigh. "If the two of you are done making heart-eyes at each other, let's keep our focus on staying alive, yeah?"
Aeliana immediately turned, scowling at him. "We are not—"
Orion grinned. "Oh, I know. You think you're subtle."
Evolis sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Orion."
"Don't 'Orion' me, kid. I call it like I see it."
Aeliana shot Evolis a sharp look, as if daring him to say anything. He wisely chose to say nothing.
Orion chuckled. "That's what I thought."
The journey continued in relative silence after that, the uneasy weight of the unknown settling over them once more.
Evolis cast one last glance at the landscape around them, memorizing every tree, every outcropping of rock, every possible ambush point.
Something was waiting for them up ahead.
And whatever it was…
It didn't want them to reach their destination alive.
The sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon when the first arrow struck.
A mercenary riding at the front of the convoy barely had time to shout before a spear of dark Etherion impaled him mid-call. His body jerked violently before he was ripped off his mount, vanishing into the tall grass.
"AMBUSH!" someone roared.
The battle had erupted with a suddenness that left no time for hesitation. One moment, the caravan was moving through the narrow valley, tension thick but manageable—the next, shadows had exploded from the rocks, and blood had begun to stain the dirt.
Evolis twisted sharply, narrowly dodging the edge of a wickedly curved dagger that sliced through the space he had occupied a fraction of a second earlier. He retaliated instantly, warping the distance between himself and his attacker, appearing at their side before delivering a devastating strike to their ribs.
The Dark Elf crumpled, gasping, but then something unnatural happened.
His body twitched, the deep gash across his side already knitting itself back together at an impossible speed.
Evolis' eyes widened slightly.
That wasn't normal.
Before he could fully process it, another warrior lunged at Aeliana, her blade slicing cleanly across his throat. It should have been a fatal strike, but the wound sealed itself almost instantly.
The elf straightened, a cruel smirk spreading across his face as if mocking her attempt.
Aeliana's breath hitched. "That's not possible."
"Something's wrong!" she shouted, shifting to stand back-to-back with Orion as more Dark Elves began pressing in from all sides.
"They're regenerating!"
Evolis clenched his teeth. This wasn't just an ambush.
It was a test.
His golden eyes narrowed, Etherion surging through his irises as he activated his ability to perceive deeper truths.
Immediately, the battlefield shifted before his eyes.
Where others saw only armor and blades, he saw the very fabric of the Elves' existence unraveling and reforming, tendrils of unnatural Etherion surging through their veins, pulsing like a foreign heartbeat.
It wasn't healing.
It was something else.
Evolis' vision honed in further, breaking past the illusions of physical sight, dissecting the anomaly woven through their bodies.
And then, he saw it.
Threads of Etherion, not their own, but something external, foreign, invasive. It coiled beneath their skin, binding itself to their very essence, forcefully repairing their bodies.
This wasn't natural regeneration.
They were being puppeted.
Controlled.
Their wounds weren't healing, they were being undone.
Evolis' stomach twisted. That meant…
"They're not fighting on their own," he realized aloud, dodging a spear thrust and countering with a precise space-shifted strike that sent his attacker flying. "Something's fueling them."
Aeliana, her blade flashing as she parried an incoming attack, grit her teeth. "What do you mean?"
Evolis didn't have time to explain. Instead, he focused deeper, tracing the invisible threads back to their source.
And that's when he saw it.
A presence.
Far beyond the battlefield, hidden in the distance, observing.
Someone, or something, was pulling the strings.
A figure, shrouded in dark Etherion, standing atop the ridge overlooking the battle.
Their hands moved in precise, controlled motions, as if conducting an orchestra.
Evolis' pulse quickened. That was the true enemy.
They weren't fighting warriors.
They were fighting pawns.
And whoever stood atop that ridge, they were the puppeteer.
His instincts screamed at him. Take them out, and this fight ends.
But before he could react, a fresh wave of Dark Elves surged forward, their movements unnatural, synchronized, relentless.
There were too many.
If they didn't act soon, they were going to be overwhelmed.
Evolis gritted his teeth and adjusted his stance. If this was a test…
Then he had to figure it out as soon as possible.
The battlefield was eerily silent.
The clash of steel had ceased, and the last of their attackers lay motionless, their unnatural regeneration finally failing the moment the puppeteer withdrew their influence.
Evolis exhaled, his breath steady but sharp. He lowered his fists, golden eyes flickering as he let his gaze sweep over the field.
Around him, the surviving mercenaries stood in stunned exhaustion. Some leaned on their weapons, chests heaving, the shock of surviving such an unnatural battle settling over them like a suffocating fog.
Half of them were dead.
The rest were barely standing.
The bodies of the fallen attackers were scattered across the dirt, but something was missing.
The mercenaries.
Evolis' brows furrowed. His eyes swept the battlefield again. "Where are the fallen mercenaries?"
Aeliana, still gripping her blade tightly, turned sharply. She had seen them fall. She had fought alongside them. Their bodies should have been here.
But they weren't.
The realization struck all at once.
They hadn't been scavenged. They hadn't been left behind.
They were gone.
A cold chill crawled down Evolis' spine. Not a single one remained.
Orion, wiping blood off his blade with an exaggerated sigh, ran a hand down his face. "Yeah, see, this is exactly the kind of thing I was hoping we'd avoid."
Aeliana's gaze darkened. "This isn't just war."
Evolis stared out into the distance, toward the ridge where the puppeteer had stood moments before.
No trace of them remained, but he knew.
They had watched. They had orchestrated. And now, they had taken what they came for.
But why?
Were the mercenaries being collected? Reanimated like the Dark Elves? Or was something even worse happening?
Evolis clenched his fists, space warping faintly around his knuckles in agitation.
They weren't just fighting an army.
They were fighting something far more insidious.
And now, whether they liked it or not—they were caught in the middle.