"Grand Marshal, is that you? Are you alright?"
Cinderclaws urged his giant red armor closer to the battered dwarf.
"Huh, red? Oh, is that you, Cinderclaws?"
Dwordoug Axebreaker tried—futilely—to brush the dust off his bare chest, as if that would somehow make him more presentable.
"I'm sorry for the state I'm in, but… ehm… what's the situation? And what in Talvaris are you riding?"
"Oh, this?" Cinderclaws patted Rudolph proudly. "Just a little hobby project. Toys made out of old mining equipment. Anyway—about the situation. We've got uninvited guests, sir. But we're holding for now."
Together they watched the battle raging across the ruined structures of the Moth Pole.
"Do you know which unit these dwarves belong?" Dwordoug irritated
"No insignia or anything," Cinderclaws replies. "But highly trained."
"Grr… Goldenclaws?" Dwordoug spat.
"Most likely, sir."
Levi and Mara approached, surveying the devastation.
"Oh my… they made quite a mess, didn't they?" Levi said, eyeing the half-collapsed tower.
Cinderclaws's eyes narrowed. "Demons… are they with you, sir?" He glanced at Dwordoug, silently asking why the demons were standing beside the Grand Marshal without weapons drawn.
"Yes, they're with me. They're my guests now," Dwordoug replied. "Director, any chance we can handle the rest of the uninvited guests?"
"Their ground troops? Yes, I think so. The problem…" Cinderclaws pointed upward.
"…is up there."
They all looked to the sky. Several black airships loomed overhead like vultures circling a carcass.
---
Above the Moth Pole
Inside one of the airships, the captain monitored the battlefield below.
"Sir, our men report visual confirmation of the Grand Marshal," an officer said.
"So he survived. And the demons?"
"With him."
The captain smirked. "Good. Tell Kirof to bury the pit."
"…Sir, what about our men down there?"
"What about them?"
The officer swallowed. "…Understood."
---
Moth Pole Pit
"So, any chance you have flying toys to deal with those?" Dwordoug asked Cinderclaws.
"Unfortunately, no. Too expensive to build."
"Right… but how did a prison even afford that giant armor? Is that why your tribute only comes once a year?"
"Uh… well…"
Mara cut in sharply.
"I'm sorry to cut off your budget inquiry, council member," Mara said, eyes narrowing. " But it looks like our friends above have decided to join the fun."
Three airship bombers swooped low, bay doors open.
The remaining black armors and mechanical spiders scattered in panic, scrambling away from the pit. They already knew what was coming. The airships didn't care—they aligned perfectly with the cliff edge above.
Bombs dropped—one after another—lining up with the cliff edge.
KABOOOM!
KABOOOM!
KABOOOM!
KABOOOM!
KABOOOM!
KABOOOM!
Explosions ripped across the cliffside. Entire sections of rock tore loose, tumbling downward in a roaring cascade.
A landslide.
A huge one.
"Damn… that's bad. Really bad," Cinderclaws muttered.
The rumbling grew into a deafening roar as tons of stone and soil thundered down. Black armors and spiders were swallowed instantly, crushed beneath the avalanche as it barreled toward the pit's survivors.
Levi stared at the incoming tidal wave of rock.
"Sigh… I'm sorry… Solo, my friend…"
A violent whooosh swept over them—
And then—
—Everything disappeared beneath the collapsing world.
---
Above the Moth Pole
In one colossal sweep, the landslide buried the entire Moth Pole beneath thousands of tons of rock. Nothing remained. No buildings. No smoke. No movement.
Just silence.
"Bombing run completed, sir."
"Good. No one survives something like that. And if they do—they'll suffocate to death. Mission accomplished. Return to base."
"Aye, sir."
---
Bashington DC, The Black House
CRACK
A mug shattered as it hit the floor.
"Oh—babe, I'm sorry, I didn't see it there," Lilith said.
"Don't worry, just a ugly mug Levi gave me from one of his trips. Come back here."
Solo pulled Lilith closer, kissing her as the two tangled atop his office desk.
While they were otherwise occupied, Murican officials attempted to inform the Dwargonian government about Moth Pole's destruction. The response was the same every time:
"We will verify it ourselves"
along with repeated denials regarding the Foreign Minister and Ambassador's whereabouts.
By day's end, the Moth Pole prison had vanished from the face of Talvaris—known only to the Muricans, and suspiciously, Dwargonia.
---
Vandoria, 10,000 Meters Above Ground
A lone C-130 Hercules drifted through Vandorian airspace under cover of darkness. Civil war below kept wyvern patrols constant, but Vandorian wyverns couldn't reach 10,000 meters—both the wyvern and the rider lungs would fail long before that.
Megan sat in the cargo bay, adjusting her HALO jumpsuit while speaking into a satellite phone.
"Yes, Luxius, I'm working. I'll be unreachable for a few weeks—yes—no—don't you have border problems of your own?"
"Five minutes," the bay speakers announced.
"Alright, I need to go. Take care," Megan sighed, shutting off the phone.
"Why is this getting more troublesome every day…?"
A young man in the same jumpsuit smirked across from her.
"Seems you and the Ravendawn King are getting close."
"Not that close! He's just… persistent."
He chuckled.
"Never thought our top of the charm class would be charmed herself. Though honestly, landing a handsome prince with a castle does sound like a good retirement plan."
"Oh stop it, boss."
"Two minutes," the speakers called again.
Megan put on her oxygen mask and walked to the jumpmaster. The young man followed.
"Our bureau never stops employees from dating, you know," he teased.
"I'm not dating anyone! And this younger version of you is annoyingly nosy!"
"It helps me blend in with targets."
The bay lights turned red. Wind blasted through as the doors opened. After a tense moment, the light turned green.
"GO!"
They sprinted and jumped into the night sky.
Wind screamed around them.
Then—
"…So, have you two slept together yet?"
"Boss! Not appropriate question at ten thousand meters!"
"Okay, I'll ask again at four thousand."
"BOSS!!"
"What? Even the old me back in Langley is curious."
"Oh god, I should gone solo…"
The two demons plunged toward Vandoria.
---
Langley
Janet watched Mo sitting unnervingly still, eyes completely white. Suddenly his pupils reappeared.
"Have they landed yet, boss?"
"No. They just jumped."
Mo retrieved eye drops from a drawer, blinking rapidly.
"You really don't need to send one of your personalities there," Janet said.
"Most agents are busy, and I still need you here. Besides, I like finding the mastermind myself." Mo smiled.
"Well, if it makes you happy."
"Also… that personality is the noisiest of them all. Nice to get a break."
Asmodeus—Mo—was the only demon whose true form no one had ever seen. The gentle old man persona was just one of countless personalities he could manifest physically. His skill let him create independent clones, each fully connected to his senses.
He had once been one of Solo and Luke's worst enemies during the unification of the Seven Demon Dukes. One of his personalities—an attractive female copy—had even broken Solo's heart once.
Which is why Solo's first order after Mo swore allegiance was simple:
"Use the old-man form forever."
Lilith found the whole story hilarious. Solo's only ex-girlfriend in this world was technically an old man.
---
Balevar Kingdom, Road Near Merryhall
A posse of young men galloped down the highway, wearing mismatched apprentice outfits—knight, blacksmith, merchant, farmer, even a cook. Each held household tools like weapons.
"You sure they came this way?" the blacksmith apprentice asked.
"The merchant said the description matched," the knight apprentice replied.
"They're on foot. They can't be far," added the cook apprentice.
They were fired up, each driven by the same purpose:
Recover the stolen town festival funds…
Each young man muttered his own grand declaration:
"For Rosalia, my clumsy, fragile childhood friend—I'll recover the festival funds and confess under the fireworks!" the knight apprentice said.
"For Teresa, my tsundere tomboy childhood friend—I'll make my move!"
"For Amelia, my big-sister childhood friend—I'll show her I'm a man now!"
Merryhall fireworks festival was the moment for young people to confess their loves—and depending on the genres, the love confessions sometimes followed with inappropriate conduct—and yesterday, some thieves had taken the entire budget.
"DON'T WORRY, GUYS!" the cook apprentice shouted, brandishing his frying pan. "WE'LL CATCH THE THIEVES AND CONFESS OUR LOVE AT THE FESTIVAL!"
"YEEEAAAH!!"
Their voices echoed as they sped past a thick roadside bush.
The bush then shook violently.
And a group of dirt-covered figures crawled out.
"Tch! Those horny teenagers just won't give up," Ivy grumbled.
"Never underestimate puberty," Kovalski added.
"We can't use the main road anymore," Captain Irving sighed.
"I miss home…" Bella whimpered.
These were the thieves.
---
Deep in the Forest Path
They trudged through an overgrown forest trail—dangerous, abandoned, and inconvenient.
"Good thing our content only goes to royalty," Bella said. "If the Merryhall folks report us, we're in trouble."
"Relax," Irving said. "No cameras. At best they can draw blurry stick-figure sketches."
"We'll skip a few towns. No one will know. And we already have enough travel money." Ivy chuckled.
"At least no one bothers travelers out here," Kovalski said.
Unfortunately, forest paths in Talvaris were exactly like fantasy forests everywhere:
Full of problems.
---
A pack of wolves appeared.
"Grrr… bark! Bark!"
RATATATATATATAT!
The wolves dropped instantly.
---
Then bandits arrived.
"I heard loud noise! Look! Travelers!"
"And cute chicks too!"
RATATATATATATAT!
---
Then bandits with wolves.
"The wolves smell prey! Look! Travelers!"
"And cute chicks too!"
RATATATATATATAT!
---
Kovalski stood on a pile of bodies, furious.
"WHY DO BANDITS STAY ON A ROAD NOBODY USES WHEN THEY MAKE MONEY ROBBING TRAVELERS!??! WHAT KIND OF ECONOMIC STRATEGY IS THIS?!"
"Sigh… lets stop using guns," Irving said. "They're bandit magnets."
The group looked exhausted—eight encounters in one day.
Irving froze.
"Shh… I heard something."
"I didn't hear anything," Ivy said.
"A scream."
"KYAAAAAA!"
A clearing opened beside them.
A young girl tripped dramatically. A wolf circled her dramatically—fantasy demanded for it to moving slower than nature intended—closed in for the kill.
"Five bucks she dies in ten seconds," Irving said.
"Twenty seconds," Kovalski countered.
"Thirty!" Bella added.
Ivy cut in:
"Twenty bucks she survives."
"Deal!"
Ivy inhaled.
"HEY YOU! DO YOU HAVE ANY MONEY?!"
The girl turned mid-scream.
"I CAN SAVE YOU—FOR A FEE!"
"YES! YES! THE SISTER HAS MONEY! PLEASE HELP ME!!"
"That's cheating," the others complained.
"Well, no rule against it," Ivy said, leaping forward.
The wolf prepared to pounce.
STAB. STAB.
Two throwing knives buried themselves in its skull before it blinked.
Dead.
Ivy grinned.
"You owe me now."
The girl stared up, starry-eyed.
"Miss Knight… what's your name?"
"Call me Ivy."
"Ivy… such a beautiful name… thank you…"
She blushed hard.
"What's yours?"
The girl hesitated.
"…Robert."
Ivy blinked.
"…Huh?"
Bella and Kovalski blinked.
"Eh?"
Captain Irving sighed.
"Yeah, this is wrong on many levels."