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Steel and Sorrow: Rise of the Mercenary king

Bound in chains yet yearning for freedom, Alpheo, a modern historian, finds himself enslaved in a land on the brink of chaos. As the empire of Rolmia plunges into civil war following the death of the emperor , his three ambitious sons vie for the throne. In the midst of this turmoil, Alpheo finds the chance to break his chain and escape, leading his companions into the ashes of war, trying to thrive in it, selling their swords to the highest bidder . But beyond the borders of Rolmia, hungry eyes watch as the empire's grip loosens. The Sultanate of Azania, ever the opportunist, sees a chance to expand its domain and influence , while to the south, neighboring principalities breathe a sigh of relief as the once-dominant giant stumbles and falters. In the sea, the confederation of the Free Isle finds their chance to restore their old maritime power , denied to them by an empire that is now crumbling beneath itself , lacking the strenght to stop them. In this crucible of conflict, where dynasties crumble and empires fall, Alpheo find his call and the chance to forge his own destiny amidst the ashes of empires. ----------------

Allevatore_dicapre · War
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316 Chs

In the city(2)

As Alpheo finally entered the city's street, the stink of the city invaded his nose , his grey and brown cloak streamed from his shoulders.

Everywhere he went he saw eyes. He was going paranoid, a bit more than usual.Since that walk with the princess, he made sure to always look twice behind himself when he was at court and out of it .He momentarly forgot but he was deep in a foreign country with no ally. 

At the end of the walk , the princess asked him some queer questions. Like what he wished to do after his contract with her father expired?If he had an aim to achieve as he wandered around the south.Or how he felt about being hired against a previous employer. He answered each of them, yet the more questions she asked, the less they looked like questions meant for the prince. That night he said many things , yet meant so little of them.Always responding in a far-fetched way or outright lying.

As he walked forward, his group followed even more closely.Alpheo continued to watch his sorroundings, he and his men stood out from the rest of the citizens, they were well dressed and armed,and each time they passed to a street , people gave way to them.He strangely felt safer there among thieves and destitute, rather than the elegant and well mannered courtiers present in the keep.He felt himself in place here, wherever he looked there was something interesting happening. In one of the street a mummer on stilts was striding through the crowd like some great insect, with a horde of barefoot children trailing behind him, hooting and looking in awe. Alpheo too was gazing at him, he put an hand on his pouch, two fingers in his mouth and whistled.

The mummer turned around, only to see a silver coin thrown towards him, he grabbed it with the ease a child would grab a ball, then bowed towards Alpheo and continued with the spectacle. Elsewhere, two ragged boys no older than 12 were dueling with sticks, to the loud encouragement of some and the furious curses of others. An old woman ended the contest by leaning out of her window and emptying a bucket of water, or at least he hoped so, on the heads of the combatants.'Old hag' they shouted as they scurried away like rats, wet and cursing .

As they ventured deeper into the city, the streets grew increasingly crowded, the crowds of people pressing in on them from all sides. The noxious odors of the city assaulted their senses, prompting Laedio to cover his nose in disgust.

"What a shit-hole of a city,the stink is unbearable how can anyone stand it?" he muttered, his voice muffled by his hand.

"Most populated cities are like this," Alpheo replied calmly, forging ahead through the bustling crowd.

"You should see one of these cities after a raid," Egil interjected, his expression twisted in disgust. "The stench of decay becomes so overpowering after a week that lords have to employ vagabonds to clean up the dead bodies. Soldiers won't even go near it..the decay of bodies is for war like the perfume of whores. Wherever you find one the other follows''

"Romelia is triple this city and six times cleaner," Laedio chimed in, continuing his complaints''You can bury your head in a shithouse and it still stink less than this house of rats''. Then they all paused as Clio's voice erupted behind them in a sudden shout.

"YOU LITTLE SHIT!" Clio bellowed, grabbing a child by the shirt and lifting him into the air, his legs kicking wildly.

"What's the matter?" Egil asked, striding over to join him.

Clio didn't answer Egil, his attention focused solely on the boy in his grip. "You small fucking thief, where did you put it?" he demanded, searching the child's pockets and clothing frantically. The onlookers observed the scene with detached curiosity, but no one intervened.

"Did the boy take your coins?" Egil inquired, trying to make sense of the situation.

"I turned around to find this boy walking near me, and the next thing I know, my whole pouch is missing," Clio explained, his frustration palpable. Suddenly, his face lit up as he spotted the missing pouch lying on the ground beneath the child.

"Here it is!" Clio exclaimed triumphantly, retrieving the pouch and securing it back onto his belt. In a swift motion, he delivered a stinging slap to the boy's face, causing his cheeks to flush red as tears welled in his eyes. ''Did you steal it?''

"Wait, " Alpheo interjected, raising his hands to halt Clio's aggression. The boy stared at him in fear, his eyes wide with apprehension. Alpheo recognized him as the same child he had locked eyes with during their march through the city.

"You've been awfully quiet, child. Are you mute?" Alpheo inquired gently, his tone softer than before.

The boy remained silent for a moment as if thinking , then nodded slowly. Alpheo's curiosity piqued. "Would you mind opening your mouth?" he requested with a warm smile as he approached the boy. But instead of complying, the boy's expression shifted, as though he'd been caught red-handed.

"Do as he says, boy, or the next time it will be a dagger asking," Clio threatened, his voice low and rough.

The boy, on the verge of tears, hesitated before reluctantly complying. With a trembling hand, he reached into his mouth and retrieved a small silver coin, which he held out to Alpheo.

For a brief moment, the group was rendered speechless. Then, Alpheo burst into laughter as if he'd just heard the most hilarious joke.

"Why did you go to all the trouble of putting a coin in your mouth when you could have made off with the entire pouch?" Alpheo chuckled, genuinely amused by the boy's audacity.

The boy, with his tousled blonde hair and dirt-streaked face, met Alpheo's gaze earnestly. "My friend Marth always aimed for the whole pouch," he explained solemnly. "But one day, when he went to pay, a guard accused him of theft, he took the pouch and then the boy . They cut off his right hand, and two months later, he starved to death ."

''Wht go to such lengths for a single coin? Why risk getting caught?"

"People don't want trouble with the guards especially when they are far away from the garrison ," the boy replied matter-of-factly. "Once they reclaim their coins, they lose interest. They might give me a few slaps or punches, but then they move on.Most take it easy as I am small. They all have their own business to attend to and won't waste more time than they have to . And once they're gone, I retrieve the coin and keep it for myself."

Alpheo smiled as he told Clio to let the boy down. He looked at Alpheo with confusion then obeyed.

"How long have you been doing this?" Alpheo inquired, his curiosity piqued by the boy's audacious thievery.

"Since I could run," the child replied, his voice tinged with a hint of defiance. Alpheo pondered for a moment, then glanced at his companions before turning his gaze back to the small thief. An idea began to form in his mind.

"Do you want to play a game, boy?" Alpheo proposed, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"What game?" the boy asked, his interest piqued.

Alpheo gestured to his belt where his coins were kept. "You have until the end of the day to take my coins. If you manage to grab them, you can keep them. But my friends here will try to stop you. So you'll have to be quick and clever. If you succeed, you walk away with the coins. But if my friends catch you before you do, they'll divide the spoils among themselves. What do you say?"

The child hesitated, eyeing Alpheo warily. "Will you really let me keep them? Won't you go back on your word?You are mercenaries why would you let go of your coins "

Alpheo shook his head solemnly. "I give you my word. If you manage to take them, they're yours to keep."

The child narrowed his eyes, considering Alpheo's proposition carefully. "You better not lie," he warned, his voice tinged with suspicion.

"And you better get ready," Alpheo responded with a grin. "You have until the sun sets to make your move. Good luck, boy. You're going to need it."

His companions looked on in surprise at Alpheo's unexpected offer, but the promise of a potential share of the spoils had them intrigued and ready to play along. Though they wondered what had got through Alpheo's head, he was after all not one that liked to play games. 

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