“Shit! They’re right on top of us!”

  “Oh gods! Help me!”

  Sardon Albrinter begins to wildly fire at Parnidot and his order. Even if they manage to hit a zealot with a musket ball, the others do not halt their advance. Soon, the musketeers fire out of turn. They do not fire in a volley, they do not break the enemy formation, their fear gets the better of them and soon the entire formation falls apart and even with pots and pans as armor, the zealots begin to slash at musketeers. Musketeers that once prided themselves on being able to kill knights in armor dozens of levels above them. Now they are being routed by crazed zealots who are barely armed. At the center of all the zealots, Parnidot stands.

  “The gods can't save you now!”

  Despite the formation breaking, Sardon sees Parnidot. The man who disturbs the peace and whose death would impress the queen. Perhaps enough to sway her decision on who among the Albrinters should inherit the title of Lord. Nothing to do now but to line up a shot and end him now. Sardon readies his musket and fires at the head of this movement. A musket outfitted with experimental magic enchantments begins to spark to life. The musket ball is a dense creation made from unnatural alchemy. The black powder is a mix made from solutions and productions from alchemists. All highly expensive, but enough to grant peasant farmers the power to slay monsters like a yeti or maybe even a dragon. Still, Sardon isn’t satisfied with this. He uses his skill to take it even further.

  “Critical Hunting!”

  Propelled by the various magic and expensive alchemy, the musket ball erupts from the muzzle of the musket and flies faster than an arrow at Parnidot.

  “Grand Guard!”

  Parnidot put his shield between himself and the incoming musket ball. When the ball and shield meet, there is an impact of great magic. To Sardon’s surprise, the ball stops when it meets the golden shield with inlaid gems. The ball falls to the floor harmlessly.

  “By the protection of Yerl, I am bulletproof!” Parnidot shouts back.

  “Oh, bullshit!” Sardon cusses under his breath.

  “Well, no. The armor is bulletproof.” some guy on Parnidot’s side says. “The man himself is perfectly susceptible to bullets.”

  “Not now, Jake!” Parnidot snaps.

  Despite the side exchange, Parnidot rushes at Sardon while he is seemingly helpless with an empty musket. Sardon scrambled to back away while affixing a bayonet to his musket. The bayonet was fitted onto the hole that the musket ball would normally go into. This stopped him from loading and firing the musket, but right now he needed a blade to get into a better fighting position for close combat than a killing gunshot. As Parnidot approached his striking range, Sardon thrusted the bayonet out at Parnidot. The reach of Sardon’s musket and bayonet was longer than Parnidot’s sword. Sardon thrusted the bayonet out at Parnidot, stopping his charge.

  “Gods damn it, man. What even is your plan?” Sardon spat out.

  “My plan was simple really.” Parnidot said. “Show the people the truth. That they need to be led by their betters. We were nobles! A proven pedigree of refined people. You are the one trying to stop me from protecting the people.”

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  “Oh, bitch, please.” Sardon says. “We’re protecting people just fine.”

  “This town had endured a crimewave not too long ago. Even after that, demons appeared in the streets. You were all too preoccupied with Mackamer. A wealthy merchant who manipulated the markets in town, yes, but that does not change the fact that the people look to nobles for protection. Not long ago, your brother told me that our queen, as foolish as she is, demanded that all remaining nobles are to serve the people with our guidance, management and protection. That much I agree with. That is what I and everyone who had joined my Order of Nobility seek to establish. Nobility! To protect them from threats like these demons.”

  As he speaks, a thin masculine figure with horns and red skin rushes Parnidot with a sword. Parnidot simply bashed him with his shield before driving his sword into the demonic figure. A bright radiant light erupts from his sword and the demonic figure writhes in pain before falling still and the red skin and horns melt like ice on a summer day to reveal one of these mercenaries.

  “Even you and your family are not likely to consort with demons.” Parnidot says. “When you and your family surrender, I will see to it that Mackamer answers for his crime.”

  “Bitch!” Sardon snaps. “The only reason that guy is still breathing is because we don’t have proof of his involvement with these demons or anything else illegal.”

  “And that is where we differ.” Parnidot speaks with an air of authority and confidence. “I need no proof. Mackamer and all his associates will be lynched and burned at the stake regardless of anything like proof.”

  Even as they spoke, there was a battle being fought. One mercenary manages to peel off from the main fight and rush at Sardon and Parnidot. He was a muscular man with a few injuries, but he was too filled with the rage of battle to think before he lept. Before he can get into striking range, a red light from the sky descends onto the mercenary and envelops him in a red eerie light. From the light, a low masculine voice croaks out.

  “Assuming direct control!”

  When the red light vanished, that muscular mercenary turned into a familiar looking thin red skinned figure with horns. The figure still hefted the mercenary’s axe and swung for Parnidot. The axe slammed into Parnidot’s shield. Before Parnidot could return the favor, the demon backed away.

  “Little Albrinter boy, I have a proposal.” the figure says.

  “The boy won’t listen.” Parnidot says. “Even he is too prideful to say his musket isn’t enough to fell the both of us.”

  “Who even is this?” Sardon pointed his bayonet at the demonic figure.

  “Well, my player tag is-” before the demonic figure could finish, he was interrupted.

  “That is Gamgon, a demon of sloth.” Parnidot shouted.

  Both Sardon and the demon introduced as Gamgon give Parnidot a confused look.

  “How do you know that?” Sardon asked.

  “I may be a fool in your eyes, but I assure you that I know what I studied.” Parnidot says. “Of the two things I know for certain is that nobility is the proper way, and every demon I studied in the temple’s archive. I don’t know what precise ritual you were summoned through, but it seems that right now he is at the peak of his power. Still, the ability to take control of a man and puppeteer him with great precision and power is still familiar to me. Few can achieve such control while your true host is idling somewhere comfortable.”

  “Oh? I didn’t know I was so famous.” Gamgon snickers.

  “You are only a puppeteer that needs to manifest through someone and manifest again in some other poor soul from far away. No doubt a benefit from your ritual.”

  “Congratulations, mortal. So you know that no matter what you do, I’ll just find someone else to control.” Gamgon says. “What does that change?”

  Parnidot rolls his shoulders and hefts his holy shield with tons of gold accents and gems.

  “I’m going to use my divine might to defeat you both here and now.” Parnidot says. “With the divine power of Yerl, I will smite you even where you are truly manifested.”

  At those words, the shield in his hands erupts in golden light.

  “Let me show you Elofraye Shield of Divine Dominance. A divine relic left to sit upon a pedestal instead of doing holy works.”

  The all encompassing light sunders the both of them.

  Off in some underground warehouse in Blue Pine Town, a different thin red skinned figure sits on a cushioned armchair. He suddenly goes wide eyed and a sizzling sound comes from him. Gamgon’s true manifestation then screams and writhes on the floor. Mackamer shares the room with Gamgon. He watches as the demon helplessly shouts and screams as the figure melts away to reveal a normal man by most people’s standards.

  “What is happening?” Mackamer scowls as one of the demons he painstakingly summoned falls before his eyes. “Must I do this myself?”

  Mackamer looks to his supplies. A variety of bottles filled with tinctures, potions, brews and poisons sits waiting to be used.