The cold winds of the northwest plains brushed against Ichikari’s wings, a welcome relief after months away from the regiment. She had embraced the freedom Kindred once spoke of meeting orcs, villagers, and wandering alone through peaceful stretches of nature. Stopping on the plains, she reflected on her journey. Under the full moon, her love for adventure swelled, but memories of her friends soon followed: Emilia, Jonathan, John, Alvin… Kindred.
The wind whispered across her skin as she gazed at the horizon. The town lights glowed against the darkness. She was free. She was alive.
But she belonged to no faction.
Back at camp, the regiment was seeking new recruits to strengthen the kingdom. Alvin had gone to request approval from the king. In the great hall, the king sat on his throne, admiring the freshly painted artwork delivered the day before.
“Are you sure about this? Many recruits could die,” the king said without looking at Alvin.
“After our recent losses, we must prevent them from happening again,” Alvin answered.
The king studied him, smirked, and examined his dagger. “Very well. More forces may prepare you for an unexpected attack. I’ll approve your request.”
“Aye, sir,” Alvin said with a smile before bowing and leaving the hall.
Kindred’s skill with words brought in many new recruits. Humans, orcs, elves, and even demons were welcome— as long as they were willing to serve the kingdom. At dawn, they met an unusual recruit named Syed. The moment he joined, he demanded to know his rank, insisting he deserved to be a captain despite having no combat experience. What stood out most, however, was that he was a half-demon.
Because of past encounters with unstable half-demons, the regiment remained cautious. Their fears proved valid during a recruitment drive at the town hall. After being denied a promotion, Syed snapped. Rage overtook him, and his vision filled with bloodlust.
Without warning, he stabbed himself in the heart, then fixed his gaze on Kindred. The general immediately noticed Syed’s attacks were still human in strength — stronger than average, but not overwhelming. Syed lunged. Kindred kicked him square in the face, slamming him into the cobblestones. Syed swung his staff wildly, but Kindred rolled aside, grabbed his arm, and twisted until it snapped with a crack.
Syed screamed — but glowing red veins began spreading across his skin, healing the break in seconds.
His Dark State had begun.
A new recruit charged at Syed, but the half-demon kicked him away before he could land a hit, sending the man crashing into a tree. Syed grinned at the sight — until he turned and found Kindred’s sword already at his throat. The demon froze. One wrong move would end him. The soldiers swarmed him, grabbing his arms as the dark smoke faded from his body. His Black State had ended.
“There’s no point in fighting,” Kindred said calmly. “We outnumber you, and more blood will only be wasted. If you wish to leave, do so peacefully.”
“What? General, are you insane? He tried to kill you!” shouted Luke, the recruit Syed had thrown. Still shaken, he forced himself to stand and speak. Kindred, however, never took his eyes off the demon.
“I’ve met plenty of men who wanted me dead,” he said with a faint chuckle. “And if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that bloodshed isn’t the answer, especially against someone this young. Besides, it would be an unfair fight.”
His men fell silent. The general was forgiving the one who nearly killed him. They didn’t like it, but they obeyed. As they loosened their grip, Kindred lowered his sword and ordered them to release Syed.
Weakened after losing his Black State, Syed collapsed to his knees. He glared at the regiment, hatred burning in his eyes. If violence was the price to become captain, or even general, then he would pay it.
For vengeance. And for power.
With the last of his strength, the weakened man charged at Kindred. His hatred surged so fiercely that his horns grew back and his power began to return. Jonathan struck him with his sword swiftly, but the demon wasn’t targeting him. Luke tried to intervene, but the beast was too fast.
What stunned the demon most was that Kindred turned his back to him instead of preparing to fight.
“DON’T TURN AWAY FROM ME!” the demon roared.
He swung his staff at Kindred—only to feel it nearly snap. The weapon stopped just inches from the general. The demon looked to his left and saw the horned helmet of Gold, axe raised, blocking the strike. A grin formed beneath Kindred’s dark maroon hood as his cloak swayed in the town square’s wind.
Kindred spoke, “A general is a leader who has survived enough battles to fight for his men and his people. A tyrant is a boss who seeks power only to feed pride and dominance. Ambition drives goals, but pride reveals what you truly are.”
Gold slowly lowered his weapon. The demon’s hatred faltered, and the man fled, never to be seen by Kindred again.
“Are you sure this is the right choice, General?” Alvin asked as he arrived.
“There is no right or wrong here,” Kindred replied. “But I’d rather choose this than risk civilian lives.”
Alvin sighed, hoping the decision would not bring bloodshed.
“Gather the men,” Kindred ordered. “The recruits will return to base. Emilia still needs training. Follow me, comrades.”
Days followed. They arrived at the castle market. A man emerged from the gates—clearly capable in combat, though his attire suggested an intellectual. The moment he saw Kindred, he hurried over, bowed, and offered respectful greetings.
As they spoke, the regiment learned he was Hex’s student, now arriving to serve in his mentor’s place. The reminder of Hex silenced the group, but Kindred extended his hand.
“Welcome to the regiment.” he said.
Back on the plains, Crescentia heard marching to her left. Looking into the distance, she saw faint lights moving toward the Red Regiment’s base. Her eyes widened—something was wrong. She immediately shifted into her raven form and rushed toward the camp.
Inside the base, Tiffany and Luke were in the camp while the other recruits stood guard. Jacob was teaching Emilia about the regiment’s weapons. With the officers away at the castle, they were unprepared.
“Guards!"
The warning was cut short as an arrow struck the watchtower recruit. A battlecry followed, and a wave of soldiers surged out of the darkness, overwhelming the front gates.
“Sir, Milady, warn the general!” a recruit shouted. But a rain of arrows split the group apart. Luke and Tiffany were forced back into the blacksmith station, while Jacob was knocked from the entrance wall.
“Stand your ground!” Luke yelled as enemy soldiers charged. The recruits were outmatched; these attackers fought like an elite legion. All they could do was hold their ground. Tiffany cast a spell to strengthen Luke as he fought them off alone.
One by one, the recruits fell. As the second wave approached, Luke exchanged a final look with Tiffany—until a soldier struck her with a club, knocking her unconscious. Enraged, Luke decapitated the attacker, but more soldiers closed in.
Soon, Luke believed he was the last survivor in the base.
Or so he thought…
Jacob woke up dizzy, a sharp pain stabbing his left leg. An arrow was lodged in it. He nearly cried out, but the sight of soldiers flooding into the base forced him to stay quiet. As the last of them pushed deeper inside, he used the moment to stand and limp away. He had to warn the general.
Above the camp, Crescentia—Ichikari—hovered in the sky. She saw Luke’s lifeless body. Raiders laughed and three soldiers began using his corpse for target practice. Arrows struck his back, and even in death his body twitched at each impact.
No, Crescentia… they’re too many. Don’t do anything reckless, she told herself.
Then she spotted the tallest tower near the mountain’s edge and formed a plan. She landed on it, drew her bow, and aimed from one of the longest distances she had ever attempted. Jacob needed a distraction.
Her first two arrows struck cleanly, killing two soldiers. But the third soldier noticed and alerted the others, turning the entire army’s focus toward her. She fired rapidly, taking down a few more, but the returning arrows were overwhelming. When she ran out of arrows, she had no choice but to flee. She shifted into her raven form and sped into the night as arrows chased her through the air.
Meanwhile, Jacob finally reached the castle. “General…” he whispered. The regiment rushed to him. Kindred saw the recruit—bleeding, pale, arrows still lodged in his back. The general ran to him, but Jacob grabbed his arm.
“The base… it was raided… sir…” Jacob choked out before collapsing.
“Mage! Infirmary, now!” Kindred ordered. Gold teleported Jacob away, and the King appeared, asking what had happened. Even after hearing the report, he seemed strangely unmoved.
A guard in yellow stepped forward, silent and unreadable. Before anyone could question him, another figure arrived behind them.
"Crescentia!" Alvin exclaimed. She explained the raid in further detail, telling him about their uniforms. And if they tracked the leader down, then they would know who it was. And as the general would accept this mission, they needed to see the camp first. So they set their course to their base.
Upon arriving, they found Tiffany along the bodies that were left behind. And they discovered that she was still alive. However, Luke and the other recruits were not so lucky. So they gave them a proper burial.
At night, Kindred decided to set off and explore. And upon his absence, the remaining officers noticed someone lurking in the shadows. Sir Alvin slowly crept on him. And as he snatched him, the boy screamed as he panicked when he was caught.
"Who sent you?" Alvin asked.
Fearing for his life, the boy quickly said "It was the king! He ordered me to spy on you!"
The regiment was shocked. They did not expect the king to do this. Yet as they looked at each other, Alvin had an idea.
"Hmmmm, tell him this...."
And as the boy returned, he was followed by Alvin, Gold, and Tiffany to see if he will indeed say what they had ordered him to. The boy arrived at the castle and told the king that they were building catapults. The king thought deeply. And after that, a 'very well' went out of his mouth.
"And I wanted to ask...." the boy said.
"Yes?" The king replied.
"Why did you sent me this mission?"
The king looked at him, as if in a bit of surprise or disappointment. He stared at the boy who was just ordered to ask that question. Silence filled the throne room. Then the king stood up from his throne. He slowly walked towards the boy. The echoes of his steps roamed the place as the silence kept on fighting with the slow pace of his approach. He then placed his hand on the boy's shoulder and said...
"Just do what you are ordered. You don't want to end up like the man who asked too many questions right?"
The boy shivered, his face gone pale as snow. He stood frozen, for he knew well what the king was capable of. His heart hammered in his chest; panic gnawed at him. Whatever courage he possessed scattered like frightened birds. He dared not look at the king again. Step by trembling step, he backed away—then turned and fled.
Those who had come with him hurried after, calling his name, desperate for answers. When they caught him at last, they dragged him back toward the camp.
“What did the king say?” one demanded. “What happened to the man who asked the questions? What were the king’s orders?”
The boy only shook, lips quivering, no sound escaping. Fear had stolen his tongue. John watched from across the camp, his expression darkening. With a slow, deliberate gesture, he drew his sword and pointed the gleaming steel at the boy’s legs.
“Speak,” John growled. “Or I drive this through your flesh.”
“What is this?”
A voice rolled through the camp like distant thunder. General Kindred. John ignored him and pressed the blade against the boy’s skin.
“What are you doing!?” Kindred bellowed as he stormed forward. He seized John by the collar and slammed him against a stack of crates. Leaning close, he hissed, “Have you forgotten the code of our regiment?”
John gave no answer.
Kindred turned—only to see Tiffany standing over the boy, hand already on the sword’s hilt. She twisted the blade. Kindred and Gold both jolted forward, horror in their eyes, rushing to stop her.
But before they reached her, the boy cried out.
“It was the king! He ordered the assault! He learned of the base from one of your own!”
John smirked. “There now. That wasn’t so difficult.”
Silence fell heavy across the camp. Men stared at one another, their unity splintering in an instant. Was this what their future held? Violence, suspicion, betrayal? Was this how their king saw them—not as loyal soldiers, but expendable pieces on a board?
Kindred, Gold, and the officers of the Red Blood Regiment exchanged stricken looks, shaken by the savagery their own hands had wrought. Meanwhile, John, Tiffany, and the newest recruits steeled themselves—ready to defy their king if they must.