Losers!

After the bloodbath at the tavern, the rumor of the dark traveler spread like a poison. Inhabitants, particularly soldiers, were terrified at the idea of meeting him and facing his blade. Jäwell walked out of the town, he took his time. Enjoying every minute of his new life, he was someone again and he could sense it deep in his veins. 

His blood was pumping, and the bread he chewed fell in his stomach. Every need he had to fulfill for his survival was only pleasure and lust. He craved this fragility for so long that now he had it he never felt so strong. 

Jäwell walked along the main route, he hated to walk in the sand, there was always someone entering his shoes and tickling him, but Rosebudians sent patrols on this main path to stop him. His reputation had a strong effect and he became the enemy number one. 

He was walking for hours already when he saw five horses stopping. A man in armor went down and pointed his sword in his direction. Speaking loudly and firmly.

"Surrender and follow us peacefully!"

Jäwell looked at the man and noticed his armed arm was slightly shaking. He didn't even stop for him and simply continued to walk. Ignoring completely the group of men. Two of them panicked and moved to the side to let him pass while the three others seemed to have a bit more courage. 

They galloped in front of him to stop him, "The Commander said, surrender."

In their voice, it was not an order, they were begging. The poor men were forced by their hierarchy to obey and Jäwell sighed as he unsheathed his sword.

"I am sorry for you, boys," He said, making them all tremble. 

They tried to look tough, they tried to be strong and to convince themselves that everything was about to be fine. He was alone against five men, he was traveling for a long time. Jäwell must have been tired and weaker, and they based their hopes on this fact. 

They were so wrong. Jäwell was always so excited by a fight that his face enlightened. The men understood the horror of the situation too late, they saw him as a demon, an unnatural creature. Only thinking he was invincible was already giving him a considerable advantage. 

Jäwell had no pain to kill them all, it was not what he wanted, but since they started, he would not say no to a bit of fun. He also used the opportunity to take a fresh horse and their resources in water and food. 

Walking peacefully with the horse still wearing the colors of the capital, Jäwell was eating a piece of bread. With the horse, he covered two hundred kilometers that were separating him from the border without issues. Meeting patrols from time to time, most of the soldiers dropped their weapons and didn't engage in the fight, as for the ones who insisted, he simply sliced them as if they never mattered. 

Jäwell was known as the Death Rider. He was researched in the whole country. It took him four days to reach the enemy camp. As he came closer, he could sense a slight difference in the ambiance. 

People were crying, weeping, and begging for help. At the entrance of the camp, since he was alone, nobody tried to kill him but he could feel the eyes of hatred turn to him. After a few steps only, a mounted group came to circle Jäwell and invited him to follow with a head gesture. 

Jäwell was excited that things looked truly desperate here, this was what he searched for. He didn't care about the notions of good or bad, he didn't even know why they were in conflict. The only thing that mattered was to join the camp with the least chance of success. 

He was brought to a large tent, and forced to abandon his horse at the entrance in the hands of the men who accompanied him. Inside were seven elders and one younger man in the middle. The familiar smell of a military council came to Jäwell's nostril and he chuckled. They were looking incredibly serious and on a defensive stance. The young one was the one to talk.

"Who are you? Why did you come here?"

Jäwell looked at them all one by one, he simply said, "I want to fight."

The young man had wide-opened eyes, Jäwell was bold, more than he had ever seen before and he didn't expect such an answer.

"Are you a mercenary? What is your price?" He asked curiously and was interested in the idea of recruiting Jäwell, but the prince laughed, "I want to be fed and provided a tent like other soldiers in your ranks. No other payment is needed."

To be unusual, it was unusual. There were a few mercenaries in the army of the young man but none of them would speak this way. He was hesitant at first but Jäwell acted as if the deal was already approved and started to leave the tent calmly. 

The young man didn't know what to think but his instinct was telling him that he needed Jäwell. If not everything was lost yet, maybe, the dark traveler could reverse the situation. He needed to believe it. 

"I am Alaric," The young man said, "Son of Ulric, the real heir to the throne of"

Jäwell raised his hand to stop him, "I don't care."

The elders were shocked but Alaric suddenly smiled, Jäwell intrigued him a lot, and a form of admiration was slowly growing.

"Tell me your name, please, traveler," Alaric asked, almost begging.

Jäwell sighed, "I am Jäwell Silverclaw."

Alaric wanted to ask more questions, he wanted to understand this strange character in front of him. A warrior who was asking to be treated like a simple soldier and didn't ask for payment. The elders were whispering, many of them were saying that Jäwell was an evil entity and welcoming him would be the end. Some others said that Jäwell would make them win but then, after, turn his evil powers against them and kill them all. The sentence, "Do not make a pact with the demon," came to Jäwell's ears. 

The prince laughed, he was a mortal now, he was fighting without cheating, with equal resources as the other players. Because that was what it was to him, a game that was fun to play. Alaric was in awe, looking at Jäwell going out of the main tent and being led by other soldiers to take his kit including a tent and other basic resources.

Jäwell installed himself in a corner, not far from the others. Once he finished mounting his tent, he spotted a little group of recruits making music, singing, and drinking. The men were not old, they were in their early twenties at best. They still had all their life in front of them. It would have been probably the same in the other camp. 

Anyway, a warrior would always be on the wrong side, it just depends on the point of view. Jäwell joined them and grabbed a beer. The men laughed happily, exchanging pleasantries with the newly arrived. 

No matter if his reputation was following him, here, having such forces on their side was a main asset. Jäwell opened the beer and sipped it, he looked at the men around and tried to start a conversation. 

"Hey, so… you like it here? It is a pretty nice camp," Jäwell stated. His questions startled the people around. He was the only one enjoying the situation. He knew it of course but he thought that at least they would praise the camp. Judging their faces, the men didn't like this place and they didn't enjoy his presence much as well.

Jäwell was trying hard to appear kindly, especially since he had no friends in this world. The group of men had cards and were about to play poker.

"You play, dark traveler?"

Jäwell chuckled at the nickname, "Yes I play."

And just like that, the few men were playing a card game with the prince of the world of death without even knowing it. Mocking him when he was losing and raging in jealousy when he was winning. Jäwell looked at them and he already knew which ones were brave enough to join the Ombrae after their death, and which ones would have to join the eternal void, disappearing from everything.

One of the men leaned to Jäwell and asked directly, "Why did you join us? You were not born in our land and we are losing the war."

Jäwell leaned as well, staring into his eyes, and announced in a cold, terrifying, whisper.

"I joined you because you are losers."

Everyone opened their eyes in shock. They all thought he had a death wish, joining a camp based on their low chances of winning was something out of comprehension for them. As for Jäwell, a smile never left his face since he arrived. They were even more despaired than he initially thought and that was making him deeply happy.