Six months have passed since the fall of Crusadia.

  In the sprawling green plains near the reinforced iron gates of the town, barks and snarls from tame wolves mixed with the chirps of birds and critters of the grasslands. A tall, tanned girl wearing a green girl scout uniform held a basket full of meat in her hands. She was a Breeder, specialists in the art of taming and breeding beasts. At the kennel, she took pieces of meat and threw it into circular pen. Presented with food, the wolves barked happily and devoured their meal.

  This was the small border town of Aftergale, in the territory of the Eastern Alliance, an ally of the Kingdom of Acronia to the far east. Within two months after the fall of Crusadia, the small town had adapted to being a hub for refugees on their way to the capital city of Hakuroa. Day by day, their numbers grew. Being a simple farming village, the town tried its best to cater to the refugees. Abandoned barns were refitted as living quarters and the local community center was turned into a field hospital where the Priests toiled day and night to provide care for the wounded. At the fountain in the town center, there was a soup kitchen, initiated by the Farmer’s Guild, which provided meals for the hungry.

  From the word of travelers and the messengers of the Guild Network, survivors of the carnage sought refuge in the four major cities: Hakuroa in the Eastern Alliance, Vestox in the Northern Kingdom, Naikura in the Southern Iron Federation, and the autonomous artisans’ city of Morg off the western coast. There were also rumors of a covert Liberation Front, a group of veterans seeking to reclaim the Golden Throne. What was certain was the independent Guilds and the armies of the four major Acronian nations were preparing for war.

  In a small tavern, a young man with messy silver hair wearing a black jacket was chatting with an older man, this one a spiky red-head and clad in maroon plate armor.

  The silver-haired man yawned. He reached for his mug of freshly brewed coffee and took a big gulp. “How was your shift last night, Zerona?” he asked.

  The older man took a bite out of his bacon sandwich. “Tough. Family of four came in at midnight. They were in bad shape. Said they were ambushed by the feral wolves on the way,”

  The young man sighed. “Can’t do much about the patrols. Guild’s already stretched thin as is. Old man’s already said we might not be getting paid this week,”

  “Is money all you think about, Xnoa?”

  “Not at all, but would be nice to have some to get a better sword or gear, don’t you think?”

  Zerona took another bite of his sandwich. “Stop thinking about yourself for a while. Paid work’s hard to come by these days. If you really want money, then try heading west. I hear Morgia’s guilds pay decently for security. We’re still lucky to have time to have a decent lunch. I heard the mayor’s going to start rationing food from now on,”

  A waitress approached their booth and asked if they wanted a refill. “The Master says it’s on the house since you’ve been working so hard for the town,”

  “Much obliged,” said Xnoa, pointing to the almost empty coffee mug on the table. Rumi filled it to the brim with piping hot coffee.

  “None for me, Rumi, but tell the Master I appreciate his hospitality,” said Zerona. Rumi offered him another sandwich, but Zerona politely refused it too.

  “Is Miss May not back yet?” she asked. “I haven’t seen her around in a while,”

  “We haven’t seen her around as well. She’s probably still in Morgia,” Zerona said.

  Rumi sighed. “And just when we have her favorite oranges in stock again…” She bowed slightly and returned behind the counter to prepare another order.

  Xnoa blew on his coffee. “She’s still on with her tin cans, huh,” Xnoa said. “Wish I could’ve joined the Artisans, but couldn’t even make it through their entrance exams,”

  “You make a far better Swordsman than you would an Artisan,” Zerona replied, finishing his sandwich.

  Xnoa threw him an irritated look. “Anyways, is the Guild joining in the war effort? I’ve heard from the Lieutenants some were being sent to Naikura,”

  Zerona shook his head. “Sounds unlikely. We’re too small a guild. Boss seems content with putting us on guard duty. Besides, you’re far too inexperienced to be in the front lines,”

  Xnoa wanted to argue, but deep down, he knew Zerona was right. He had only been a proper Swordsman for five years after graduating from Basic Training. He barely passed his exams, excelling only in the practical tests. His mediocre grades locked him out of the more prestigious Academy, essentially setting him up for a long and arduous road towards being a Blademaster through sheer experience. Besides, all he could do was exterminate mutated monsters deep in the eastern forests. But what he lacked the most was the ability to kill another human being.

  “I thought so,” Zerona said. “You’ve never had to be forced to kill to survive. But you shouldn’t let that drag you down,”

  “Why?”

  “It just means you have a good heart,”

  The tavern door swung open. “Hell Divers!” an armed guard exclaimed. A deafening roar shook the tavern. The guard fell off balance, falling face-first onto the tavern floor. Bottles of liquor fell from the shelves. Patrons started panicking, but Zerona quickly calmed them down with his commanding voice. He ordered them to stay put. Rumi told them to exit through the back door in the kitchen. Xnoa helped the guard to his feet. The guard told them to follow.

  They ran to the city center. Five lumbering brutes, two meters tall, clad in grisly black armor were wreaking havoc. A Hell Diver took its massive cleaver, held it high in the air, and cleanly cleaved a fruit stand in half. Another, covered in blood, lugged a corpse of a guard encased in stone. The others were fighting off the guards. There were corpses of guards strewn around the place. Some were petrified, others were cleaved gruesomely in half.

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  Xnoa gulped. “The-they’re not supposed to be here, right?”

  “Losing your nerve now?” Zerona said. He took a short metal rod hanging from his waist and brandished it. Reacting to his touch, the metal rod expanded into a 2-meter-long blood-colored bardiche. The tip was adorned with an intricate carving of a dragon’s head—the Dragon Whisker. He ran into the fray, lunging at the nearest Hell Diver alone.

  Xnoa reminded himself these Hell Divers were not human; they are just reanimated corpses in armor. Still, he could not fathom how they suddenly appeared in the middle of the town like this. But this was not the time to think. He held his right arm high. A dazzling light engulfed his hand, turning into the shape of a sword. After the light disappeared, he held a blue-tinted nodachi. In the Swordsman tradition, he named his sword “Sky Zero” after its unique tint. With weapon in hand, Xnoa took on another lone Hell Diver.

  Zerona swung with all his might. A loud clang reverberated when cleaver met axe. The two weapons were locked. It was now a matter of strength. Zerona shouted. The Hell Diver staggered, causing it to lose its grip on the cleaver. The cleaver flew out of its hands and the Hell Diver stepped back, dazed. Zerona closed his distance. Another mighty swing to the head. A loud cracking sound, followed by a roar of anguish. The Hell Diver’s helmet was destroyed! The Hell Diver kneeled, its hands covering its exposed rotting head. Zerona twirled. He delivered another crushing blow to the Hell Diver’s head. Another roar of pain, followed by the loud thud of armor falling on solid concrete. The Hell Diver was dead, its head rolling off a few meters away.

  Xnoa intercepted a lone Hell Diver that seemed intent on destroying the food crates by the soup kitchen. He slashed from behind, aiming at the exposed seam in the Hell Diver’s leg armor. He missed. Sparks flew as the metals collided with a sharp screech. The Hell Diver slowly turned. Xnoa jumped backwards. He was not as strong as Zerona, and he knew his weapon could not pierce the Hell Diver’s armor. He had to find an opening.

  He saw a yellowish glint appear in the eye socket of the Hell Diver’s helmet. A tingle ran down his spine. ‘This could not be good,’, he thought. He dove for cover behind a table to break the monster’s line of vision. After a split second, a yellow line of light shot out of the monster’s eye, turning all living beings in its path into stone. After letting out the beam of light, the Hell Diver stopped moving, its head dropping.

  It was his chance. Xnoa leapt out of cover and charged towards the immobile Hell Diver. He aimed for the exposed eye socket and drove his sword through the monster’s skull. It let out a bloodcurdling scream. Black blood gushed out from the helm. Soon, the scream subsided, and the Hell Diver fell to the ground. It looked dead, but Xnoa did not want to take any risks. He sliced its head off.

  “One down, three to go,” he said. He saw Zerona already helping the guards with the remaining Hell Divers, and quickly made his way to the other side of the square to help. The Hell Divers made quick work of the guards, disemboweling them with their large cleavers and petrifying the rest. It was just them against the remaining three. They put some distance between themselves and the monsters.

  A beam of yellow light whizzed past them, forcing them to dodge sideways. The beam, however, was a feint. Two Hell Divers were already charging towards them at full speed. As Xnoa prepared to dodge again, an ear-splitting screech stunned him.

  “My head!”

  He suddenly felt faint. His sword dropped from his hands.

  Zerona was also on his knees, his hands covering his ears. His bardiche laid on the ground beside him.

  The two Hell Divers lowered their shoulders, preparing to ram the two. They accelerated.

  Xnoa closed his eyes, praying to the Goddess, waiting for his end.

  “Salvation Aura!”

  Upon hearing the cry, Xnoa opened his eyes. The Hell Diver was on its back, repelled by an invisible force. He turned to Zerona. He was safe.

  Without stopping to think, the two recovered their weapons and made quick work of the staggered Hell Divers. Two down, one more to go. The lone Hell Diver was still recovering after using its petrification beam. Xnoa ran his sword through the monster’s heart through an exposed crack in the armor. With a resolute swing, Zerona decapitated the monster.

  “Good work,” Zerona said, catching his breath. “But you flinched when the battle started. Not good at all, Ex,”

  Xnoa took a knee beside the corpse of the Hell Diver they just slain. He did not reply to Zerona’s criticism; he knew full well that he should have done better.

  A brown-haired bespectacled man in white robes approached them. “Are you two okay?”

  “Without that Salvation Aura, we would have been dead, Father. You have our gratitude,” Zerona said.

  The Father ignored Zerona. He muttered a few words in Seraphic. A gentle blue light engulfed both Zerona and Xnoa. Their pain was lifted, their stamina returned, and small wounds instantly healed. Father Alma seemed drained, however. He clung to his staff for support.

  “Father… you shouldn’t!” Zerona said, trying to support the Father, but he pushed him away.

  “Get away from here, you two! There’s a larger threat… they… they have—”

  Xnoa heard three gunshots.

  The Father collapsed onto Zerona’s arms. Fresh blood oozed from three holes in his back, staining his brilliant white robes. Zerona was horrified. He dropped the Father’s body to the ground.

  “Take cover!” he shouted at Xnoa.

  They ran towards an intact vegetable stand and hid behind it. A gunshot ricocheted off the metal cart. They heard metallic footsteps approaching, with the occasional whizzing of servos and gears.

  They heard a soulless electronic male voice. “Recalibrating targets. Scanning environment,”

  “That’s a Machina,” Zerona said in a hushed voice.

  “I thought they were just rumors!”

  “Apparently, they’re real. The question now whether they can be killed,”

  The footsteps came closer and closer.

  “It’ll find us,” Xnoa whispered. “We need to distract it,”

  “I guess I can take some hits,” Zerona said. “You run and wait for an opening,”

  “What—”

  Before he could finish, Zerona leapt out of cover. With a roar, he charged towards the gun-wielding artificial lifeform. The Machina reacted with inhuman speed. It swerved its arms. Before Zerona could finish his sweep, the Machina had already shot him thrice. He ignored the pain. With a heavy grunt, he tried to cleave the Machina’s head. It activated its boosters and stepped backwards, causing Zerona to miss.

  He recovered and jumped backwards. He grunted loudly, trying to keep the pain at bay. His armor was pierced; blood was oozing out of the three holes in his stomach. He grinned.

  “Target acquired. Target identification: Dark Stalker. Threat level: high,” the Machina droned. It started to reload its pistol.

  Behind the vegetable stand, Xnoa was hesitating. He knew he had to help Zerona, but he did not know what to do. Cursing his ineptitude, he let out a hushed cry of frustration. He knew what Zerona was going to do, and he started blaming himself for forcing him into this situation.

  Zerona became shrouded in a dark violet mist. Blood stopped flowing from the holes in his armor. His bardiche gave off a brilliant red sheen. He let out a ferocious roar. He leapt towards the Machina, delivering three precise jabs at terrifying speed, followed with a finishing slash straight across the Machina’s torso. Electricity crackled.

  “Criti--cal… Shut—shutting d-d-own,” the garbled electronic voice said. With a dull clunk, it fell face-first at Zerona’s feet. The red in its eyes flickered… and disappeared.

  Zerona fell to his knees, breathing heavily. The mist shrouding him dissipated. Blood started gushing through his armor again. Before his vision went to black, he heard Xnoa’s frantic footsteps…