Rhaziesian Empire

The news of the demon invasion caused mass panic across Terra. Kingdoms and empires worked to fortify their defense and prepare civilians for war. Governments levied war taxes to pay for weapons, training, construction, goods, food, and feed.

However, for some, the news of a third schism was too fantastical. Great Wars were relegated to the past. Some believed the propaganda of a third great schism was merely a ploy to raise taxes.

And for fewer the idea of the impending great war was too horrific to conceive. Emperor Pier Galveston Landon de Caernarvon of the Rhaziesian Empire was one such ruler.

After returning from Kukes, Emperor de Caernarvon had frequent night terrors and panic attacks. Unlike other monarchs that prepared for war, he refused to prepare for war. He prayed that Thanatos' hoard would emerge on another continent.

While Emperor de Caernarvon cowered in the palace, his eldest son Crown Prince Jacques took the initiative. Unknown to his father, he raised taxes, built up the army and navy, and modified barracks to accommodate more soldiers.

Rhaziesian Empire was geographically larger than the Great East and Qhosnir Empires but had the smallest population. The empire was a hodgepodge of terrain thrown into one big stew. The east of the empire was coastal with high cliffs. The south was a great desert larger, than the Sahara desert on Earth. And the west was marshes, and the north was glacial.

The imperial capital sat in the middle of the empire adjacent to a large lake. The palace itself sat on a tiny peninsula on the island.

While Emperor de Caernarvon thought to seal the palace, Crown Prince Jacques built watch towers across the large empire. Jacques was almost certain that if the demons did decide to invade Rhaziesian first, they would most likely come from the east or west. After all, glaciers and deserts did not make good fighting terrain.

Yet, it could be said the nature of destiny is as rigid as a block of granite or as malleable as molten iron. When Emperor de Caernarvon found out his eldest son had gone behind his back, he disavowed his son, removed his crown prince status, and exiled him from the capital.

Though Emperor de Caernarvon did not expect his generals and army to side with his son and leave with him. But when Crown Prince Jacques left the capital, so did the empire's might. The capital was only left with a small remnant of unfit and untrained city guards. This only furthered Emperor de Caernarvon's mental collapse.

Now, Jacques crouched on one knee facing a bloody trail, bow in hand, waiting. He wore the garb of a simple woodsman. His brown shirt and pants were made of the softest wool. His brown leather army boots were worn but silent and supple.

His woodland clothes blended his form into the forest around him. The trail in front of him led to a small watering hole and based on the tracks around it, a frequent visitor was a large stag. The water hole was a known hunting ground for the army.

He has grown used to living in the marsh. In truth, he preferred his hunter gear to his princely garments and robe. He thought living in the marshes with his soldiers was better than the stuffy capital politicking.

Today, he brought a small contingent of soldiers to help him hunt and gather. Without the imperial capital's resources, the army had to forge for its food.

To his left he glimpsed the outline of the limping stag working its way through a dense thicket down to the mist-covered water. It crept along, stopping to rest and scent the air every few steps.

Jacques adjusted his grip on the bow getting ready for the shot where the game trail ended at the water's edge. The hurt stag continued its approach to the water. Just as he drew his bow the stag halted and fell to the ground.

"Great shop milord," said the captain.

"Quickly send your men to put it on the cart," Jacques ordered.

"Yes, sir, your royal highness" the captain saluted.

Three infantrymen walked over the lake and were about to pick up the carcass until they heard something coming from the west side of the pond. There was the distinct clink and jingle of metal on metal.

Armed men were approaching and not trying to conceal their moment. As the first men broke out of the forest into the clearing, Jacques got a good look at him.

He wore chain mail and black leather boots. On his back hung a long black cloak that reached to his ankles. Strapped around his waist were a sword and dagger. The second to emerge from the woods was much smaller with his hands bound behind his back. The man following him shoved him along into the clearing. The third and fourth men wore clothes like the first. All three of the armed men had reddish skin and donned plain black tabards over their chainmail.

The first demon said, "Abaddon, this looks like a good spot. We're far enough from the main road now, and we can hide the body in the pond."

"It's about time. I was beginning to think we were going to keep going through this damnable marsh forever," the second demon said annoyed.

The first man turned to the third one and said, "Adrammelch get ready, and make it quick and clean. We do not want him flopping around or screaming. No need to attract unneeded attention."

The third demon said to the first, "Fenriz, I know how to cut a throat. You just hold him steady, and it will be over in a second. Keep his head toward the water. When the blood fountains out, I don't want to get it on my new boots."

Fenriz laughed, "You worry too much about those damned boots."

Adrammelch made a sly grin, ran his finger along the edge of his massive two-head battle axe, and winked at the bound man. Fenriz and Abaddon grabbed the captive's arms and forced him to his knees, splattering mud onto his bright blue shirt. They forced his imperial infantryman into a position, so his head pointed toward the pond.

"Hold still, boy, the less you squirm, the cleaner the blow will be. It'll be less painful for you in the end," Abaddon instructed.

Adrammelch moved around to the side and rolled his shoulders. It was a good position to get a full arc on his swing.

Jacques and his troops silently watched and listened to everything from their hiding place fifteen yards away across the lake.

The axe man stood with his left side toward Jacques. The other two struggled to keep the bound infantryman still. Jacques didn't like being in this type of situation. He did not know if there were more demons close by. He felt his soldiers could take the three demons if they called for reinforcements nearby that could turn out bad for them.

But he knew one thing, he would try to rescue his soldier at all costs. And if possible, also capture a demon. What Jacques need the most right now was information.

What he needed to know was the enemy's position. Where their troops were deplored and their plan of attack.

Jacques gave the order. He pointed at each person's target. On his shot, they were to commence their attack.

He stretched his neck, rolled his shoulders, and repositioned his grip on his longbow. There was no way Jacques would stand by while three demons beheaded his soldier.

He examined the terrain to determine the best approach after his first shot. The lake that he had to travel silently around to the right. Once he shot his first arrow, he would have to shoot the second on the run, then it would be his long knife against armed and armored men.

Jacques drew and released his first arrow. As it left his fingers he leaped from his hiding place and sprinted around the pond. He drew his second arrow as he ran and shot it at Adrammelch.

The first arrow caught Adrammelch in the throat and went completely through and out the other side. At first, Adrammelch didn't react, then blood erupted from the wound. Adrammelch fell to his knees dropping the axe and wrapping his hands around his throat in an effort to stop the bleeding.

The second arrow went speeding toward unprotected Adrammelch's unprotected forehead. A broad headshot from a long bow can penetrate chainmail. And the second arrow buried itself deep, killing Adrammelch.

Fenriz drew his sword as Adrammelch fell and shouted, "we're under attack!"

Yet by the time he yelled four soldiers attacked Fenriz and Abaddon.

Jacques dropped his bow and pulled his long knife, magically strengthened his body, and joined the captain and a soldier fighting Fenriz.

Fenriz roared like a wounded bear. Fenriz was tall, muscular, and an experienced fighter. Even outnumbered, Fenriz was able to keep up with the attackers.

Fenriz brought his sword down in a vertical cut aimed at Jacques's shoulder. Jacques brought up his long knife and deflected the attack to his left, while the captain attacked Fenriz's right side.

Jacques felt the wind from a powerful cut as it flew by his ear. Jacques stepped in and drove the point of his knife in under Fenriz's armpit. Blood poured out as he ripped the blade free.

Fenriz, now out of position with his sword, tried to turn and step to the side, but the captain and the soldier each slipped their swords into his chest and back.

Jacques stepped in with a second attack stabbing the knife up into Fenriz's chin, driving it up to the hilt. A muffled hiss escaped from the dead man's lips as he fell to the ground.

The older man, Abaddon, seeing reacted, seeing both his friends dead sheathed his sword and began to flee.

Jacques quickly took out an arrow and skillfully shot Abaddon in the back of the right thigh and second time left calf. A large reddish form crashed through the brush and barreled headfirst into a tree.

"Hurry, you two load the stag and the wounded soldier. You three follow me, we need to capture the demon and restrain him," Jacques ordered.

As they hurried to load everything into the cart. Jacques head dogs barking not far away.

"Ha-ha, you'll be dead soon. Those are Hellhounds, we've used in battle for centuries. They won't stop into they catch their prey and then rip you to shreds. They'll eat you alive. They're known for playing with their victims' bones before they die. You'll never escape. Ha-ha, you're doomed. Your life is forfeit, do yourself a favor and kill yourself now. It's better that way," Abaddon heartily laughed.

"Someone put a sock in his mouth," yelled the captain annoyed at the demon's blubbering.

As the donkey quickly pulled the cart along the dirt road, the demon frantically tried to get his hands untied and his mouth unbound. His angry eyes were wide, and his mouth hung open with a wordless scream.

Jacques breathed deeply trying to slow his racing heart and yelled to the donkey, "Olive, Hurry!" Then he turned to the injured soldier and asked, "what happened to you?"

"Your royal highnesses, I'm sorry. Our watchtower was overrun. Before we could like the signal, half our men were dead. The commander assigned me the duty to warn the nearest watch tower, but I was caught brutally tortured.

I'm sorry your royal highness, I told them everything. They said they let me go if I spoke. They lied. They let me go only to hunt me like wounded game. They chased me for sport. I'm sorry your royal highness," the soldier begged for forgiveness.

"It's okay soldier, you are safe now. We'll tend to your wounds after we reach the next watch tower. We'll light the signal for everyone to fall back to the Mistwood Keep," Jacques did his best to soothe the frantic soldier.

"Traitor! We should kill you on the spot. How could you leak our forward positions?" the captain yelled wanting to bash the soldier himself.

"Captain calm down! Our priority is ensuring our own safety and transporting our prisoner to the Mistwood Keep," Jacques reminded the captain. "C'mon Olive, faster girl," Jacques encouraged the donkey.

"Thank you, I owe you a life debt," the sobbing soldier cried.