A desolate and barren field, and the air rancid with the stench of death and blood. In the midst of countless feral beasts, a frail camp held their ground.
'I shouldn't have accepted their request in the first place. Now, everything is fked.'
The young man hurried to a tent with a red cross symbol on its side.
"Gunt! What happened?"
On a makeshift hospital bed, a young mercenary lay, his clothes stained with blood. Forcing a weary smile on his pale face, the youth greeted Lanse.
"I'm fi… no, I think I'm dying, Lanse… They got me good this time."
Unable to keep his forced smile, Gunt gestured for his friend to come closer. But at that moment, a young lady dressed in cleric clothes came into the tent.
"Oh, Lanse. You're here." Glancing at the injured mercenary for a quick second, she continued. "Umm… I need to talk with you for a minute, Lanse."
Lanse was about to stand up and follow the cleric outside when he was stopped by a sudden cough from Gunt.
"It's fine. You don't have to go outside. You're going to talk about me, right? I'm well aware of my situation. Just tell me how much I get to live."
Startled by Gunt's sudden words, the cleric promptly apologized before going back to her serious medical worker self.
"One day… if the situation does not change."
"Hah, not like we can do anything even if the situation changed, unless someone brought an elixir. And all of us know that's damn near impossible."
Noticing the solemn atmosphere in the medical tent, the cleric quickly said farewell and left.
"I'm sorry, Gunt. It's all my fault. I should have refused them in the first place…"
"Don't beat yourself up, Lanse! We're in this together. It's not like you are the only one who agreed to the baron's request. And who would have foreseen that those noble bastards would just go and die, leaving us in the middle of the enemy's territory."
"Still, as the leader… I ought to take res-"
Before he was able to finish his sentence, Lanse was promptly interrupted by Gunt.
"If you say it like that, I gotta take half the responsibility too, since I'm a vice leader and whatnot. So, just drop it. Besides, we are just some cannon fodder stuck between predators… just like a rox haha."
The Rox Mercenary Corps was founded by two friends, Lanse and Gunt. Although shabby and feeble at first, they continued to survive, recruiting many more like-minded people and eventually becoming one of the well-known mercenary corps in the western front of the Empire. Just like a Rox, the members always refused to back down and fought till the end. But, right now, they were akin to mere livestock Roxes, waiting to be slaughtered…
[Roxes: Similar to cows/bulls except for having a serpentine head instead of a normal tail end. Wild Roxes have much larger and highly venomous snake-tails, disabling ambush from behind. However, domesticated roxes have barely functioning snake-tails, merely akin to normal tails with little to no venom present.]
Baron Darloc, a small-time noble at the forefront of the western region, requested their mercenary corps to aid in an assault against the beasts. Agreeing to the request, they pushed into the enemy field, only to be left behind when the beasts started flanking the formation, annihilating the old baron's entire subjugation army. The only reason Rox mercenaries are still alive is because of a mage who happened to be staying with them at the frontline.
Still, the barrier magic masking their presence was slowly crumbling away, which led to numerous skirmishes with the horde. Today was the worst yet, encountering a knight-ranked beast. Gunt's group dealt with it, alas with many horrific losses. The population of the camp seemed to be dwindling day by day as the morale kept diving down to rock bottom. In addition, the messenger birds he sent, requesting reinforcement, never came back. Soon, any hope left will diminish. And, Lanse knew that.
"Lanse! Mage Karsen wants to talk to you."
A mercenary shouted outside the tent. Although Lanse hadn't seen the mercenary's face yet, he could tell the atmosphere within the camp was getting worse judging by the tone of the mercenary's voice.
"I'm coming!"
Exchanging one last look with his friend, Lanse went out to join the messenger.
Walking along, he saw the situation inside the camp. Tents on the verge of collapsing just like their owners, corpses of abominations that surrounded them on all sides, and the loathsome stench of death that loomed around. It was as if the end of the world had arrived… perhaps, the end of their world did.
Dismissing these negative thoughts, Lanse sped up.
"Ah, mercenary Lanse, you are here."
A wise old mage stood firmly on top of a wall he made with earthen magic, gazing at the two mercenaries from above.
"Please, come up."
Gesturing the other mercenary to take his leave, Lanse went up the makeshift stairs before standing right beside the great mage.
"Look." Karsen pointed at a particular beast in the horde nearby. The beast towered over its kin and radiated a commanding aura.
Lanse sighed. "A general-ranked…"
"The same guy that demolished Darloc's army," Karsen added.
With the appearance of a general-ranked beast, whatever hope of surviving the ordeal had left. The only thing that Rox mercenaries could do was fight and die.
'At least we can die honorably…'
Patting on Lanse's shoulder, the old mage nodded.
"I believe you came to the same conclusion as I did. Don't give in to the mental burden yet. We will be needing your strength. The barrier will be gone by midnight. Prepare your men."
There was no need for another exchange of words, and the two men stared for a while at the horde they would be battling to death soon.
Reluctantly, Lanse shared the bad news with the rest of the corps. Some cried in desperation, some rejoiced, and some even acted indifferent. But, at the end of the day, all of them refused to back down from the final fight of their life. After all, they were the Rox Mercenary Corps. Besides, there's barely any… no choice other than that.
Compiling all the remaining food at the camp, Lanse decided to throw a final feast, hoping to increase the morale a little bit. After carefully overseeing everything and delegating the tasks to respective mercenaries, Lanse headed back to his friend's medical tent.
"Hey Gunt, How's it going?"
"Well, still dying I guess."
Unable to laugh at his friend's humor, Lanse lingered for a bit before explaining the situation to his friend.
"Well, things just went from hell to extra hell. How can I rest easy when you guys are going to go ahead of me to the other side? This won't do. I'll be joining the fight too."
"What do you mean join? What are you gonna do with all those injuries? All you will be is a burden to the rest."
Lanse tried to talk in a firm tone to dissuade his friend, but he knew Gunt all too well... as stubborn as a hardened rock.
"We still have the explosion trinkets…"
Unable to reply, Lanse sighed and sat near the bed. He couldn't refuse Gunt's words. After all, every little help would count in this situation. Moreover, even if he disapproved of this method, his friend would just find another way to join the battle and die a horrific death, torn apart into pieces. At least the explosion trinkets will be instantaneous…
"Don't worry, I'm not going down without a proper fight. Who knows, I might just finish the whole battle even before the first wall is breached."
Although Gunt tried to lighten up the mood, no laughter came out of his friend, leading to an awkward silence.
"Hey, Lanse."
"Yeah?"
"Do you remember what we were talking about before all this shit?"
Thinking for a few seconds, Lanse eventually replied.
"About how you were going to confess to your childhood friend?"
"Yeah… I don't think I can do that after all."
"Well, you shouldn't have said that in the first place. That's why you got mauled by that knight-ranked."
"Hah, You know I don't believe in superstitions."
Lanse simply nodded.
"Why did you bring it up suddenly?"
"Umm… I don't know. It just came to mind. By the way, do you have a childhood friend? You never joined in conversations about that topic."
"I do have one. It's not like I hated talking about it. You guys were just too talkative and never gave me a chance to brag about my childhood friend."
"Oh really? Tell me more."
"There's nothing to it, really. We just met one day in a place I frequented back when I was a kid and played together for like three months, before she left for the capital."
"The capital? Was she a noble lady?"
"Well, I'm not sure. She might have been one. I remember her telling me to join her at the capital academy."
"Hah, I remember that. You failed the entrance exam horribly and came crying back to the inn, where we met."
"There's a kettle calling the pot black. You failed it too and were bawling your eyes out at the inn."
"Hmm… maybe the exam site at the western city was just too hard compared to other regions. Still, it's quite nostalgic how the Rox Mercenary Corps was founded then." Gunt replied, hiding his embarrassed face. Only then, a burst of laughter came out of his somber friend.
Spending their last peaceful time together, chatting and laughing at times, the duo relived their youth together, only coming to a stop when a mercenary came to fetch them to the great feast.
Everyone dined heartily, filling their stomach to the brim but not as much to hinder them in the coming battle.
"Rox Mercenaries! I'm not gonna say much. You all know the deal. We fight to our death tonight! May the goddess bless our souls!"
Motivated by their Leader's speech, the mercenaries waited until midnight, when their last battle would commence.