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Becoming the Mercenary King

Ezra’s life was plagued with hardship—first as an orphan, then a slave, and later a soldier. After his side suffered a crushing defeat in the war, he wandered the continent, taking odd jobs to survive. His life took a decisive turn, however, when he encountered a mercenary during his travels. Tired of letting his strength go to waste, Ezra chose to become a mercenary himself, seeking a more prosperous life. Determined never to serve under anyone again, he established his own mercenary company, with ambitions to make it the strongest on the continent.

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42 Chs

Third base

The trio approached the third base under the cover of night, its towering stone walls looming in the moonlight. This one was the strongest base they'd hit yet. Guards patrolled the walls in tight formation, and the flicker of enchanted torches illuminated the area, casting long shadows. Ezra held up a hand, signaling for the group to halt.

"This one's fortified, but it's manageable," Ezra whispered. "Storm, you're on overwatch. I need you to snipe their leader once we've drawn them out. Korr and I will handle the cleanup."

Storm nodded, already securing his position in the treeline. He adjusted his goggles, their lenses gleaming faintly in the dark, and readied his rifle. "You guys just keep them distracted. I'll take care of the rest."

Ezra turned to Korr, who was already cracking his knuckles in anticipation. "You ready to make some noise?"

Korr smirked. "Always."

Ezra gave the signal, and Korr sprinted forward, his heavy footsteps muffled by the grass until he reached the base wall. With a roar, he channeled Aether into his fist and punched the stone. The impact was earth-shattering, sending cracks spidering up the wall before a massive section crumbled inward. Alarms rang out as cultists poured from the base, shouting commands and scrambling to defend their stronghold.

Ezra darted through the chaos, his shadow-infused sword cutting down the first wave of guards with precision. Korr charged into the fray, his gauntlets glowing brightly as he smashed through enemies, each blow sending cultists flying.

From his vantage point, Storm scanned the battlefield through his rifle's scope. He adjusted the focus, zeroing in on the leader: a tall man clad in ornate armor, barking orders from atop the central tower. The leader carried a massive greatsword etched with glowing runes, his Aether radiating like a beacon.

"There you are," Storm muttered, steadying his aim.

Below, the leader noticed the chaos unfolding. "Hold your positions!" he bellowed. "Protect the tower! Don't let them breach!"

Storm exhaled slowly, his breath visible in the cold night air. He funneled Ice Aether into his rifle, forming a crystalized bullet that shimmered with a faint blue glow. He lined up the shot, aiming directly at the leader's chest.

"Time to end this."

The sound of the rifle's discharge was almost imperceptible, the Ice Aether bullet flying true. It struck the leader squarely in the chest, freezing him mid-command. Frost spread rapidly across his armor, encasing him in a solid block of ice. The cultists nearest him froze in panic, watching as their leader's lifeless, frozen form toppled from the tower and shattered upon hitting the ground.

Ezra glanced up at the tower, noticing the aftermath. He smirked. "Nice shot, Storm."

Korr didn't even pause, using the distraction to plow through the remaining cultists. Ezra followed suit, cutting down anyone who dared to stand in their way.

With their leader gone, the remaining cultists broke rank, some fleeing into the forest while others dropped their weapons in surrender.

The base was theirs.

Storm climbed down from his perch, rejoining the group as they surveyed the aftermath. "I told you I'd handle it," he said, slinging his rifle over his shoulder with a grin.

Ezra nodded. "You did good. One more base to go. Let's make it count."

Korr smirked, brushing dust off his gauntlets. "Let's hope the last one puts up more of a fight. This was almost too easy."

The three of them shared a moment of quiet resolve before setting their sights on the final stronghold.

With the third base cleared, the trio gathered what little supplies they could carry and headed off toward the fourth and final stronghold. The air was tense but filled with the subtle satisfaction of their victories thus far.

"Last one," Ezra said, his hood pulled low over his face. "Let's make it count."

Korr stretched his shoulders, his gauntlets still faintly glowing. "I'm hoping they actually try to put up a fight this time."

Storm, walking a few paces behind, chuckled. "Don't get too cocky, big guy. If the last base was anything to go by, we'll be lucky to come out of this without some scratches."

As they moved deeper into the forest, Ezra suddenly stopped, holding up a hand to signal silence. The faint rustling of leaves and the crunch of boots on dried foliage reached their ears. A moment later, twenty men emerged from the tree line, their eyes glowing faintly with Aether energy. They were armed with a mix of swords, spears, and crossbows, their intent unmistakable.

"Reinforcements," Storm muttered, gripping his rifle tightly.

The leader of the group, a broad man wielding a massive maul, stepped forward. "You've been causing quite the stir, haven't you?" His voice was deep and gravelly. "You won't make it to the last base. We'll end this here."

Ezra sighed, drawing his sword as the faint glow of Shadow Aether coursed along its edge. "Guess we'll have to make some time for this."

Korr stepped forward, cracking his knuckles. "Finally, a warm-up."

Storm didn't wait for an invitation. He sprinted to the side, taking cover behind a tree and setting up his rifle. "I'll thin the herd. You two do what you do best."

The cultists surged forward, shouting battle cries.

Ezra moved first, meeting the charge head-on. His shadow-infused blade danced through the air, cutting through weapons and armor alike. His movements were fluid, almost hypnotic, as he dodged and countered with precision strikes that left cultists crumpling to the ground.

Korr was a juggernaut, charging into the thick of the fight and unleashing devastating punches. His gauntlets glowed brighter with each hit, sending cultists flying into trees or sprawling across the forest floor. One swung a sword at him, but Korr caught it with his gauntlet-clad hand, crushing the blade with a flex of his fingers before delivering a bone-shattering uppercut to his attacker.

Storm stayed in the shadows, his rifle cracking with precision. Each shot found its mark, freezing cultists in their tracks or outright taking them down. He aimed for the ones hanging back, keeping them from overwhelming his comrades.

The leader with the maul bellowed and charged straight at Korr, swinging his weapon with enough force to splinter a tree. Korr met the blow head-on, catching the maul with his gauntlets. The impact sent a shockwave through the clearing, but Korr held firm. With a grin, he wrenched the maul from the man's grip and slammed his fist into the leader's chest, sending him flying backward.

Ezra, noticing an archer taking aim at Korr, acted swiftly. He sheathed his sword momentarily and hurled a blade of condensed Shadow Aether across the battlefield, slicing through the bowstring and the archer's weapon arm in one clean strike.

In under ten minutes, the cultists were either defeated or retreating. The leader lay unconscious, his maul shattered beside him.

Storm emerged from the trees, reloading his rifle. "That wasn't so bad."

Ezra adjusted his scarf, glancing around at the aftermath. "We've wasted enough time. Let's move."

Korr dusted himself off and motioned toward the path. "That was fun, but I'm ready for the real challenge."

Without another word, the trio disappeared into the forest, their sights set on the final base.