Volsung, Warrior-Lord

'The Young Dramaour boy is terrifying to be around. The group all fear him.'

'The very first night, we stopped near Laest's Crossing and I saw him exit Verra's carriage. I saw Sangh approach him, and the boy looked at him, saying something.'

'I have never seen such fear in Sangh's eyes. He was Verra's right hand- the one person she relied on the most. His temperament and character is unshakeable; and his prowess as a warrior is undoubtable.'

'It was only after that, after I spoke to Sangh, that I understood.'

'The boy had knocked Verra unconscious during the first leg of the trip, so efficiently that she had not made a sound. Sangh hadn't even heard a noise as he drove the carriage.'

'Sangh told me to keep the news between us, and if anyone asked for the Captain we simply told them that she had retired for the evening, not wanting to be disturbed.'

'As more and more time passed, we realized two things. The first was that the boy seamlessly slid into the Captain's position, making decisions regarding minor adjustments to our route after considering the weather and how it affected the terrain. He was, somehow, incredibly experienced. It was like he had seen and travelled the land so regularly that it became second nature to him. The men did not question him, because he claimed that Verra had left her duties to him.'

'Of course, that was not true.'

'As for the second thing we realized, it was that Verra still showed no signs of waking up.'

|Thoughts of Weis Cennburne, Member of the Shadowless Viper|

Gilgamesh yawned, thoroughly bored with all things. They had been travelling for around five days, having already left Eusia's borders behind some time ago. Gilgamesh realized that the reason for Verra's hasty departure was because there was a brief window for them to pass out of Eusia and avoid any troublesome inspection.

It had been three days since they left Eusia, and were now traversing a road through a dense forest. This was all Gilgamesh could see for days now; forest. Endless forest. This was already boring enough, but there was also nothing for him to do.

Literally.

Someone would suggest going hunting in the evenings that they stopped somewhere to camp in a clearing, but there was no fun in that. Gilgamesh could kill any of the creatures he saw with nothing but a glance. How could he enjoy the hunt, then?

He could not spar with the combatants among them without killing or severely injuring them, nor could he engage in intellectual conversation with the more business-minded. His ideologies would shock them too much, and they would jump at the opportunity to implement his ideas.

He had no interest in helping them like this.

On the eve of the fifth day, as they yet again set up camp, GIlgamesh was sat at a high point in the land, overlooking the camp. He looked with narrowed eyes, aided by his spirit, at things in the distance. As he surveyed the forest around them, he noticed the foliage beginning to thin, indicating that they were almost to the plains.

There was no excitement in Gilgamesh's eyes, only resolute dedication. Considering that his fight was not with the Church, the Twelve-Head, nor any of the mortal kingdoms, recruiting the Shafra was the ideal move.

They were regarded as the greatest warriors, naturally talented in all manner of weaponry, martial arts and combat skills. It was said that their bodies were not alike those of regular humans, but adapted perfectly for fighting.

They were all, every one of them, tall and slender, but not excessively so. Their arms were longer than average, which suited their signature techniques perfectly. Without even training cosistently, their bodies were always in tiptop shape, and there were rumors of them being able to go months without eating, yet not lose any combat effectiveness.

Of course, such a feat was the result of years of training, even for them.

Once Gilgamesh got his hands on them, he would turn them into House Dramaour's elite force, and hand them over to Logan and Angelica. Whatever they chose to do with them, he would not mind. As long as they did not encounter a force they could not handle, Gilgamesh would keep his focus on the Twelve and their machinations.

The night passed, and after half a day of constant travel, they left the forest behind and entered the plains. Though these technically were grassy plains, they were also coastal plains, lining the shoreline as far as mortal eyes could see. GIlgamesh looked out at the horizon, at the distant sea and the crashing waves.

His spirit stirred as he recalled memories of the last time he had seen the ocean, and he nodded with a smile.

During the time of war, the Twelve-Head ordered its forces to suppress the Shafra and ensure that they did not leave the coast. Long after the Twelve-Head's presence faded, the Shafra still did not dare to go beyond the borders of their land.

The reason for this was simple. Even though they could very easily reconquer the entirety of the kingdom, they would only invoke the ire of the Twelve-Head and face an even worse fate than before.

So, they chose to live out their lives here, and not risk losing everything.

Gilgamesh had learned of these things after devoting some time to studying. There were numerous documents and records of people who had, over the years, had relations with the Shafra. They had learned quite a lot, and now Gilgamesh held all that information in his head.

As the caravan approached, a single figure walked out of the village to greet them. When Gilgamesh saw this person, he was intrigued by their body. They seemed like a more animalistic type of primate, but were very clearly a human being. Their muscles were not exaggerated, but mighty nonetheless. They stood above most of the men in the Shadowless Viper, but could not be called the tallest person Gilgamesh had seen.

Maximus was actually well above this Shafra person in height.

This person was male, with long, thick hair that seemed clamped up, as if it had never once been combed or brushed. Their skin was the darkest shade that Gilgamesh had seen since reincarnating in this world, and it reminded him of his homeland.

"Shadowless Viper, under Captain Earnes," one of the men, Sangh, the same man that had seen Verra's unconscious body, stepped forward and saluted the Shafra man.

"Captain Earnes always shows herself. Where is she?"

The man spoke with unusual huskiness in his voice, and with an accent the likes of which Gilgamesh had never heard. It sounded like you would imagine a bison would sound if they could speak, like his voice bounced around an empty barrel before it reached the ear.

"The Captain is, er... she's a bit preoccupied with meditation..."

The man's eyes scoured Sangh's face, then each of the faces of the people that he could see. Finally, his dark eyes landed on the carriage that Verra and Gilgamesh were in, which was just behind the carriage at the front.

He walked over to it, and Sangh immediately raised his hand, indicating that they should all let him through. The man opened the carriage, and was greeted with Verra's unconscious body, flat on the floor. Gilgamesh, of course, had been looking at everything through the aid of his spirit.

When the man saw Verra, he frowned, then he looked at Gilgamesh with narrowed eyes.

"Have you commandeered the Shadowless Viper?"

Gilgamesh chuckled, then got up and started to walk out of the carriage. The man saw what he was doing, and gave him room to come out. Once Gilgamesh was outside, he shot glances at the more authoritative figures in the caravan, indicating that he would handle this.

Some of them became excited, while some others were only just realizing that Verra was actually unconscious.

Gilgamesh didn't like standing amidst the carriages, so he walked out of the crowd with his hands at his back, taking in the ocean with his own eyes this time.

The shafra followed Gilgamesh, eyes still narrowed, waiting for him to answer the question.

"Tell me your name," Gilgamesh demanded without looking back at the man. All eyes were on his confident posture, finding it quite ludicrous. This was a child. An eleven year-old child, standing in the presence of one of the Shafra.

"I am called Volsung. I am the Warrior-Lord of the Shafra." Volsung stood tall and proud when he said this, and Gilgamesh nodded, his back still turned.

"Well Volsung, I'm glad you decided to come before me. You've made this a lot easier for me."

Gilgamesh finally turned around and looked the man, giving him a haughty look. Volsung frowned deeply for just a moment, then he realized that Gilgamesh was not at all faking his demeanor.

This confidence and arrogance was entirely natural, and not at all forced. Even standing before him, this boy was not at all intimidated.

Why was this? The question soon began to weigh on Volsung's mind.

"You do not name yourself?"

Gilgamesh smirked, "You'll learn who I am one way or another, so there's no point in rushing things. For now, I will say this: I have come here to represent House Dramaour of Dramaour City as Ambassador to the Shafra."

The smirk faded, and only a cold, calculating smile remained.

"I am here to recruit you all. Every single one of you. From this moment forth, the Shafra will serve House Dramaour."

Hearing this, the entirety of the caravan fell into utter, mind-numbing stupor. They could not believe it.

What arrogance! What authority! Was this a child or a king? They honestly could not tell any longer.

It was obvious that, despite the social standing of the Shafra being no higher than that of peasants, they were once the conquerors of the land. If it was not for the ever-present threat of the Twelve-Head, the Shafra would have long wrought havoc and chaos across the Kingdom.

They could very easily enslave every mortal in all of Eusia- except Gilgamesh, of course.

"We will serve?" Volsung lowered his head and his expression fell with it. His dark eyes darkened further, and his next words clearly documented the change in his mindset.

"We are the Shafra, this world's greatest warriors..." His pride in himself and his people never left.

"We were the rulers of the land... Yet you dare say we will serve!" All that remained now was anger. Unbridled anger toward one eleven year-old with an ice cold smile on his face.

Volsung balled his fist, but took no further action.

"To think that a mere child would act this way before us. Have the free people been looking down on us all this time?" Volsung gritted his teeth, looking down at Gilgamesh with a rage that was not actually directed toward him.

Gilgamesh sighed, and decided to stop wasting time. His eyes flashed bright silver, and Volsung gasped in realization, but he did not have time for much else.

"Kneel." With a word, a mighty shafra fell to his knees before Gilgamesh. Even though Volsung was kneeling, he was still much taller than Gilgamesh, yet this suddenly did not matter. His eyes looked lifeless, as his spirit could not withstand Gilgamesh's pressure, thus he was suffering a backlash.

To all those present, it no longer seemed like Gilgamesh had to look up to Volsung, but that Volsung was the one who had to look up to him.

Even the Shafra were powerless before Gilgamesh.

"I wanted to do this the civil way, but if that won't work, then I guess we can take things to an extreme level."

Gilgamesh turned around and looked in the direction of the village. The people there did not doubt the strength of their Warrior-Lord for even a second, so no one else accompanied him or even came to observe. They were all going about their lives as usual.

With a 'hmph,' Gilgamesh looked into the white clouds and the blue sky, and pointed a finger as his silver eyes glowed in the daylight.

"Since I haven't killed you all yet, I have to do it this way..."

The people were confused, but remained silent. Meanwhile, a surge of powerful spirit energy was being released, but none of them could feel it. Back in the carriage, Verra's unconscious body twitched, and she suddenly awoke with wide eyes.

Such a powerful surge of energy had shocked her so much, that it brought her out of her state of recovery. She looked outside, not even realizing where they were, and saw Gilgamesh pointing at the Heavens.

"One of you twelve children, send down some lightning."

"Now."

Before Gilgamesh could even finish speaking, the sky was parted by a streak of black, shooting toward the earth faster than mortal eyes could follow.

Volsung's consciousness only just returned to him, and he reeled in terror as several realizations suddenly hit him.

However, before he could process anything, an incomparably destructive and mighty bolt of black lightning struck his village, and it exploded into a whirlwind of corpses, debris and shattered earth.

Volsung's home was gone.