9 Ploy

The sun was setting on the peaceful town of Liebenheit as the shops began to close down, and the people made their way back to their houses, tired and sleepy after a good day's work. Except for a particular person.

The calm and peaceful atmosphere was interrupted by the rapid clopping of horse hooves on the cobblestone streets of the town. Upon taking a closer look, the townsfolk recognized the rider of the horse as their mayor, Hans Kant.

Everyone's faces lit up in friendly smiles as they tried to greet their equally friendly mayor, who used to exit at such a time to check on his town. However, their friendly expressions turned into confusion, and then onto worry as they spotted the look of unprecedented panic on Kant's face as his horse galloped down the street and towards the Krieger manor.

Kant was frantic with worry as beads of cold sweat trickled down his forehead. His breathing was erratic, and his hands were shaky; his grip barely strong enough to hold onto the horse reins.

Finally reaching the gate to the Krieger manor, Kant's horse galloped down the cobblestone path and towards the house's main entrance. His eyes lit up upon seeing Evelyn sitting on a chair, on the front porch, simply reading a book with peace of mind.

Suddenly, upon hearing the clopping of horse hooves, Evelyn lifted her gazes as her eyes fell upon the site of Kant commanding his horse to stop, hastily descending from the saddle.

"Good evening, Mr.Kant. Why the sudden vis—" Before she could greet the frantic man, Evelyn was interrupted.

"Evelyn, the compass! Wilford!" Kant gasped as he reached for his pocket in a hurry.

"What? Mr.Kant, please take a deep breath and calm down. What happened?" Evelyn asked as calmly as possible, a hint of worry visible in her gaze as she approached the elderly man.

"Evelyn, it's the compass! The compass that Wilford gave me, it broke!" Kant said as he showed the compass to Evelyn.

As she took the compass and examined it, Evelyn noticed the severe cracks on the glass screen of the compass along with visible burn marks on the cracks, and the sides of the compass. Evelyn's eyes widened in shock as she eyed Kant.

"When did this happen?" Evelyn politely asked, albeit with the audible worry in her voice.

"I truly don't know. I was at the town hall the entire day. As soon as I came back home, I noticed the cracks on the compass. It didn't have them in the morning when I went to the town hall, but after that, it could have been like this since the afternoon, or even before." Kant explained.

"Mr.Kant, please provide me with the fastest horse you've got."

"Evelyn, are you—"

"Yes, I am. Now, please, the horse!"

"Evelyn, we can't let you go alone! What if the situation is beyond your capabilities? What if you get injured too, or worse?"

"Kant, if Wilford is truly in danger, then I am the one and only person who could save him. Now, go get me a horse while I prepare my equipment."

"Mommy…" A voice uttered from behind.

Upon hearing that voice, Evelyn instantly recognized who it was. As she turned around, her eyes fell upon the sight of Emilie standing in the doorway, gazing back at her with a look of worry and confusion. Meanwhile, William was standing behind his sister, a look of disbelief plastered on his face as well.

"Mother...is that true? Is father really—" William said before being interrupted.

"It's okay, William. I'm sure nothing wrong would have happened to him. He's your father after all."

"Mom, don't lie to me! I saw that compass, I saw how broken it was! How can dad be okay?!"

"Kant, get me the damn horse, now!" Evelyn ordered Kant.

As the conversation spiraled into discord, Kant rode his horse down the cobblestone path and out of the manor, while Evelyn struggled to calm her children, and not cause more unwanted problems.

However, unknown to her, those very same problems were making their way to her. Precisely, five times worse.

…

Half an hour has passed since the conversation between Evelyn and Kant. The sun finally disappeared behind the hills and returned to its slumber as the sky became darker and the moon shone brighter.

While the town of Liebenheit was silent, and barely anyone was outside, a particular group of men, precisely five, was standing right in front of the town's entrance.

The man in the middle was of a muscular build and was wearing a skin-tight black shirt. To his right stood a slightly shorter young man who wore a black hooded tailcoat, and a pair of sheathed daggers that were mounted to his waist belt. Right next to him stood a man wearing a simple black jacket, who had no remarkable features.

To the left side stood a tall man wearing a long, black leather coat, who also had no remarkable features. Right next to him stood a young man wearing a hooded black cloak, who carried a grimoire that had a blood pentagram painted on it, with letters written in bright red under it that read "Blood and Pride".

"So...this is it, Asher?" The man with the daggers asked.

"Yeah, this is the town, Harper." The man in the middle, Asher replied.

"Leibenheit, a town full of beastmen, demis, and peasants. Say, Asher. Can we just go for the usual blitz and kill them all?" The tall man wearing the black coat asked.

"Not this time, Oscar. Our orders are to burn down the town and capture the mayor, and the Kriegers. We can't kill them...not yet." The man wearing the jacket said.

"You're not wrong, Marco. But, as you said, it's only four people in a town that houses a couple thousand. We can at least have some fun until Hulda comes back with that Krieger guy. Isn't that right, Asher?" The man wearing the hooded black cloak stated.

"Of course. Have as much fun as you'd like. And remember, spare no man, woman, child, or elderly from the fun. Just don't kill our targets." Asher stated with a malicious smile. "But before that, let's cause some distraught."

All the group members smiled maliciously while nodding their heads in agreement.

"Hail Fesouy!" Asher said as he marched forward.

…

Half a day earlier, at the outpost…

Wilford was lying down on the ground, his clothes had multiple burn marks while his hands were completely charred. Meanwhile, both of his arms and legs had many holes in them and were leaking an alarming amount of blood.

Wilford was conscious throughout this as he furiously glared at the man who was standing in front of him with a grin plastered on his face, looking down at Wilford.

"My name is Hulda, the warlock you're looking for. My apologies for not showing up earlier, I had to take care of a little something." Hulda introduced himself.

Wilford only breathed heavily, and furiously in response as he glared at Hulda. He then got a hold of himself, and barely uttered his response.

"...Why…"

"Hmm? Why what? Oh, why I did this? Well, a job is a job. And, you don't have the right to complain, Mr.speech guy. You killed my hellhound, we're equal now."

"Equal?! You just—"

Before Wilford could shout back his argument, Hulda pulled out a knife from his pocket and proceeded to stab the latter in his leg, precisely, right at the burn mark. Wilford replaced his scream of pain with a loud grunt as he clenched his jaw.

"Oi, speech guy. You're no longer a noble, you don't get the right to speak without permission. Besides, it looked like you, and your knights, wouldn't be so friendly to me if knocked on the gate and asked for some cooperation. I just did what I had to do to get some advantage and got rid of those expendable knights. I'm alive, and you're alive; that's all that matters."

"Why me? Why does it matter if I'm alive or not? Shouldn't it be me who you want to kill?" Wilford shouted in frustration and anger.

"Bold of you to assume that I won't...but, a job is a job. So, I won't kill you...yet that is." Hulda stated as he twirled the knife that was still stabbed into Wilford's leg.

"Job? So, you're a filthy assassin. Who hired you?" Wilford shouted in anger, and from the pain that he felt in his leg.

"The one who wanted you alive," Hulda said as he violently pulled the knife from Wilford's leg and sheathed it back.

"So, you're not going to say… Listen, Hulda. Whoever your boss is, and how strong he or you are...you will not escape this. When the Paragons learn that one of them has died, they will hunt you down to the ends of the earth, and kill you no matter what happens."

"That's true. But, supposedly, you were the culprit, and you're the one who murdered these people...what will they do then? Oh, which begs the question, you don't know what happened to the royal convoy, don't you?"

Wilford's eyes widened upon hearing Hulda's question. His mind drifted towards a possibility, one that he hoped for all his life to not be true.

"Well, let's say that you, with the help of a bunch of demis and beastmen, conspired against the state, and killed the convoy as payback for exile. But, you left a single man alive to tell the story."

Wilford was silent as he glared at Hulda, the sheer amount of shock he received from Hulda's statement was powerful enough to utterly overwhelm all the hatred he felt.

"I have to admit, controlling a bunch of beastmen, and dressing up as you weren't the best kind of feelings, but they sure were hella fun when the screams of pain and looks of disbelief began."

After he finished speaking, Hulda leaned down towards Wilford and tightly grabbed him by the shirt collar. Slowly lifting him in the process, until his feet were dangling in the air.

"Now, just for good measures…" He stated.

Suddenly, in a swift and powerful movement, Hulda used both of his hands to launch Wilford at an astonishing speed towards a piece of the outpost's wall that was still intact. The sheer power of the impact demolished a large portion of it and caused a cloud of dust to rise up while fragments of the wall flew in the air.

"Now, if you may, I would prefer if you come with me, peacefully. I want to reserve my energy for the slaughter party that will happen in that shitty town of yours." Hulda said as he wiped the dust from his clothes.

The warlock walked towards the cloud of dust in steady steps, calmly; not fretting the possibility of Wilford retaliating against him. However, he had his trump card ready for any miscalculations that may happen.

As soon as he reached the cloud of dust, Hulda was blown back by a powerful explosion that launched him towards where Wilford was lying down earlier. In a panicked hurry, Hulda stood up and shifted his gaze back at where the explosion happened.

After he did so, his eyes fell upon the sight of a transparent dome of blue energy that surrounded the battered and bloodied Wilford.

"Aura healing?! Shit, I wasn't warned about this!" Hulda shouted in frustration as he pulled his grimoire from its holster.

Suddenly, upon opening his grimoire, Hulda's hands were covered in dark energy as a cloud of black smoke formed in front of him. The cloud of smoke was gradually taking the shape of a humanoid figure before it completely faded away to reveal a struggling Lucas who was being held by the neck, by the warlock.

"Krieger! If you even don't stop your healing right now, I will decapitate this filthy dog of yours!" Hulda threatened.

"Sir, ignore me and kill this bastard!" Lucas shouted, only for Hulda to tighten the grip he had on the young beast boy.

"With pleasure..." A voice replied from behind.

Upon hearing that voice, Hulda was startled and frightened as he turned around in a panic to see how it was. Much to his surprise, the very knife he used to stab Sven with punctured through his abdomen and horizontally ripped his stomach open by Sven, who was tainted in his own blood.

"An eye for an eye...and a stab for a stab," Sven said before he spat out blood.

Sven released his hold of the knife and collapsed to the ground, finally dead after he used all of his remaining life and energy to stab Hulda. Meanwhile, Hulda was struggling with his wound, accidentally releasing his hold of Lucas in the process.

Seeing this as his opportunity, Lucas subconsciously made his nails gradually grow in size and sharpness, until they transformed into razor-sharp claws. He took advantage of Hulda's opening and used his claws to slit the warlock's throat before jumping back to a safe distance.

Suddenly, another explosion echoed from where Wilford's safety dome was and released a powerful shockwave that only Hulda felt. Much to the warlock's shock, as soon as the shockwave struck him, a strange pressure weighed down on him and prevented him from moving or speaking.

"Say...Hulda…"

In response, Hulda shifted his eyes towards Wilford who was slowly walking towards him. Hulda was in utter despair upon seeing Wilford still utterly battered and bloody, realizing the fact that the latter deceived him.

Upon taking a closer look, Hulda noticed that a wave of transparent blue energy was flowing from Wilford's charred hand and towards him, making it the cause of the pressure he felt at this moment.

"Let's say, supposedly, I killed you, saved my town, cleared my name, and sent your head as a little gift to the one who hired you...what will he do then?" Wilford asked as he slowly began closing his fist.

Meanwhile, Hulda was feeling an unbearable pressure way down on him, one that fractured his bones, and obliterated his organs. He was only able to gargle on his own blood in pain and despair.

"...Exactly..." Wilford said before he closed his fist shut.

Upon doing so, the pressure crushed Hulda, and destroyed all of his internal organs, causing the warlock to die as blood leaked from all of his orifices.