In the year 1076 of the continental calendar, October was a dark time for the Marquez Kingdom.
On the seventeenth day of October, the "Arshat Village Incident" erupted, in which a mob (as recorded in Marquez history) brutally killed thirty soldiers. The following day, the stationed border troops in Kerton dispatched ten squads, approximately three hundred men, to quell the unrest. However, en route through Moonlight Valley, they fell into an ambush and were entirely wiped out. A handful of escaping soldiers later reported that a dark-robed sorcerer seemed to be leading the mob.
At this moment, the high-ranking officers of the Marquez border army had gathered in the general's residence. Toran sat coolly in the highest seat, watching as his subordinates argued amongst themselves.
Kerton City hosted two regiments, totaling one hundred thousand troops, all under Toran's command. According to the military structure of the continent, the smallest unit—a squad—consisted of thirty men, leading up to a company that comprised fifteen to seventeen squads, approximately five hundred in total. Following that, a battalion had ten companies with about five thousand soldiers, and a regiment contained ten battalions, thus housing fifty thousand troops.
As the commander of the border army, Toran held the utmost authority, with his two deputies, Rayner and Brom, commanding the two respective regiments. Their deep-seated animosity had effectively divided the border army into two factions.
Rayner, as the orchestrator of the recent ill-fated action, was seething with anger over the tragic results. After learning from the escaped soldiers that the defeat was significantly due to the timely betrayal by soldiers claiming to be sent by General Brom, suspicions arose in Rayner's mind about Brom's manipulative behavior. Brom vehemently denied any involvement, declaring that he had never dispatched such soldiers and was unaware of the matter. However, the soldiers had confidently named the captain leading those forces as Jeff Cork.
Rayner immediately sent scouts to investigate, confirming that a cavalry squad leader named Jeff Cork was indeed under Brom's command. When Rayner demanded that Captain Jeff Cork come forward to confront the soldiers who had escaped, Brom appeared innocent, claiming not only had Jeff Cork gone missing, but an entire squad of cavalry had vanished as well.
Having lost his loyal subordinate, Pierce, and faced with the humiliation of such a defeat, Rayner found himself steeped in fury, especially with the snide remarks from Brom, who relished in the turmoil. Upon hearing that Brom, in an affecting tone, claimed Jeff Cork's disappearance, Rayner became convinced that the failure of the operation and the murder of three hundred innocent soldiers were part of an underhanded scheme orchestrated by Brom.
In a moment of irrationality, Rayner drew his sword and charged at Brom. Brom, instantly reacting, unsheathed his blade as well, believing that this golden-haired boy was attempting to shift blame onto him for his own incompetence.
Thus, in plain sight of all, the two highest-ranking commanders of the Marquez border army began to duel like common thugs. Meanwhile, the two factions of officers, already harboring resentment under Toran's leadership, sensed the brewing chaos and appeared ready for confrontation. Who could tolerate such blatant disrespect?
With a sudden clang, someone from the crowd drew a sword (to this day, no one has confessed who that was), transforming the situation from a brawl between two men into a fracas involving many.
When Toran finally received the report and rushed in with his personal guard to separate the fighting parties, the Marquez border army's senior leaders were in complete disarray. Each of the generals was agile and seasoned in battle, so the wounds they bore were merely superficial—bruises and minor cuts.
Despite his deep composure, the fury coursing through Toran made him tremble with rage. Without a word, he walked up to both Brom and Rayner, striking each across the face. They fell silent, realizing the gravity of their error, and refrained from speaking further. Toran scolded the two sharply before escorting them back to the general's residence for questioning, gradually uncovering the underlying causes of the chaos. Yet, the rivalry between Rayner and Brom reignited as they clamored to relay their sides.
"General Toran, this is clearly the handiwork of Brom! Yesterday, a captain named Jeff Cork attacked Pierce, and today, as we sought him for identification, he has vanished—how convenient!"
"My lord, do not heed Rayner's fabricated claims. First and foremost, whether the assailant was truly Jeff Cork's cavalry remains unverified. According to my men, Jeff's squad has been missing for three days, surely not an instance of merely disappearing when needing identification."
"Bah! You must have sent him off to lay in wait in Moonlight Valley with some underhanded intention!"
"Nonsense," Brom retorted scornfully. "You, in your foolishness, are imagining things. Jeff is a local and could very well have taken leave to visit family. Besides, three days ago, who knew you would be dispatching troops here? Why act like a mad dog biting indiscriminately?"
Rayner, fired up by rage, suddenly stood, shouting, "Who are you calling a mad dog?"
As Brom prepared to answer, Toran's sharp command rang out: "Silence!"
Both men fell quiet, unwilling to speak further. Toran fixed his gaze on Brom, asking, "Where is this Jeff from?"
Brom was momentarily taken aback; holding a high position, he had countless squad leaders under his command, making it difficult to remember every detail. Today, Rayner had mentioned this individual—amidst the hurried recollections of his subordinates, it appeared that this person was a local and had only made a fleeting impression due to his recent disappearance. Accordingly, he hastily ordered a thorough investigation, and soon enough, the results were in.
Jeff Cork was indeed from Arshat Village, and half of the cavalry under his command came from the same village, with the others almost all originating from nearby settlements.
Instantly, Brom's expression soured, while Rayner glared at him with anger. Toran, after a moment of contemplation, said, "It appears that it was indeed Jeff Cork who assisted the mob in ambushing Pierce."
Brom spoke up urgently, "My lord…"
Toran raised a hand, cutting him off. "I know this is not directly your fault. Despite your rivalry with Rayner, I wouldn't believe either of you would stoop to such treachery." At this point, Toran's expression darkened. "Generals Brom and Rayner."
Both men immediately stood tall, their backs straight, ready to accept the reprimand.
Toran continued coldly, "As experienced commanders, you should know that today's incident is a blatant violation of military discipline, and punishment could be as severe as execution."
Brom and Rayner's faces paled. Fortunately, Toran continued, "However, considering your years of service and accomplishments, and with the looming threat from the Nasda army, it is crucial that I have reliable men at my side during this time. Therefore, I will spare your lives, but you are to forfeit a year's salary as a penalty."
Relief washed over both men, and they dared not voice further objections, responding in unison. Toran then cast his gaze upon the other commanders, sternly declaring, "And you lot, listen closely. Should there be any further offenses, they will be met with execution."
Toran's commanding presence cast a heavy silence over the hall. The assembled officers were too intimidated to breathe, hastily standing up and bowing in acknowledgment.
Seizing the chance to lay down discipline to the factions that often quarreled, Toran softened his expression. "Enough for today. You may all sit down."
The officers complied, taking their seats.
Toran picked up a cup from the table, taking a sip before returning to the matter at hand. "Now, let's discuss the situation with the insurrection at Arshat Village. What are your thoughts?"
Rayner stood, stating, "My lord, I believe the uprising in Arshat Village is no trifling matter and cannot be dismissed."
Toran raised an eyebrow, "What leads you to that conclusion?"
Rayner replied, "According to the soldiers who returned, when Pierce and his men were ambushed, the attackers swiftly targeted the strongest cavalry squad first. The infantry blocked the exits while the cavalry trapped our forces in a narrow gorge, rendering our strength ineffective. Moreover," Rayner shot an accusing glare at Brom, then continued, "that Jeff Cork claimed to be acting on someone's orders to deal with Pierce and the others, causing confusion and driving us into chaos. When our battle-weary soldiers tried to regroup and resist, the mob seized the opportunity to charge down from the slopes, overwhelming us and leading to a disastrous defeat. Clearly, despite my reluctance to accept it, there must be someone among the rioters with a keen military mind. Yet this mastermind appears to be not Jeff Cork, who has served in our ranks for years, but the mysterious young black-robed sorcerer who seems to have commanded both Jeff and the mob."
"The black-robed sorcerer," Toran mused, furrowing his brow. Just then, a military officer entered, quietly approaching Brom, handing him a note. After reading it, Brom stood up and addressed Toran, "My lord, regarding this mysterious black-robed sorcerer, I immediately dispatched my men for investigation upon hearing the news, and we now have results." Saying this, he wore a triumphant expression and glanced meaningfully at Rayner. Rayner felt his anger flare but controlled himself, pretending not to notice.
"Oh? Please, enlighten us," Toran replied, his interest piqued.
"Yes. My lord, while sorcerers belong to various factions, it has never been heard of one donning a black robe; apparently, this is taboo among magic users. Recently, a black-robed sorcerer surfaced in Chisu City and caused chaos in the Advanced Magic Academy before being defeated by Elder Shuken. After that, his whereabouts became unknown. Interestingly, this man has been rumored to be the feared demon slayer, yet according to the reports from the capital, no mass killings have been discovered.
It's baffling how rumors portray him as a merciless killer, likened to a demon."
Toran dismissed the comments with a smirk. "The common people often exaggerate; their ignorance turns mere whispers into monstrous tales, and they become ever more distorted. By the way, what is this sorcerer's name?"
"Um, it is said that he is a former student of Elder Shuken, named Charmion."
"Crash!"
In the astonished gaze of the gathered commanders, Toran, who usually remained unflappable, accidentally dropped his cup, shattering it on the floor.
***
To avoid the retribution of the Marquez border army, all the villagers of Arshat, under Charmion's counsel, temporarily left their long-standing homes and sought refuge in the remote mountains, carrying with them whatever possessions they could.
The flames flickered brightly in a clearing among the trees, casting a red glow upon the faces of those gathered around the fire. The air carried a foul stench, a chilling reminder of the bodies being cremated within the blaze.
Among the pyre were the remains of twenty-three villagers who had perished in the Battle of Moonlight Valley.
History forever remembers the glow of victory, and few recall the skeletons that lie beneath the feet of revered generals. Yet those remnants persist. After the euphoria of triumph, the grief of loss must be confronted. The entire village encircled the fire, enveloped in silence. Only a few mourners gathered close to the flames could be heard softly weeping for their departed kin. Their faces bore an expression of deep sorrow, though they were not overtly agitated. From the moment they made their decision, they understood they would face such scenes.
Charmion stood among the crowd, watching as the lifeless bodies gradually turned to ash. The faces of the deceased were anything but the peaceful visages portrayed in future tales. Instead, they reflected fear, sorrow, pain, and despair.
May you return to darkness, and find eternal life in Dars's embrace.
With that thought, Charmion turned away.