The Thousand-Faced Warlord

Scarlet stood atop a plateau, the stony wind whipping at her hair. Lofty ranges rose around her, showing off their rugged beauty to her lone, unpatched eye.

She knew the forest would be the wiser choice—better to leave behind life than ruins.

The wind howled. She could see with one eye, a white patch worn over the other. Why?

Creak...

Scarlet turned back at the sound. Then, she saw a group of black-clothed men. Two pulled a wagon, swathed in a tarpaulin, up the plateau. And the others led the way.

She wasn't surprised. As they stopped meters away, she asked, "Are you guys from the black market?" Her tone was steady.

The man leading the line and also the oldest bowed to her. He smiled as he responded, "Yes, that's correct, Your Lordship." His tone was steady as well.

Scarlet observed him closely.

She then asked after glancing at the wagon, "And did you include everything I ordered? Not missing out on anything?"

"It's such a pleasure to have you patronize our renowned Dreg Pit," the man responded. He smiled, "Good thing is that it overwhelms us with joy, but not with forgetfulness. Everything is intact - it would either be more than you requested."

Scarlet looked back at the ranges. "I will give you a signal when I am gone. Then you can come back to get the wagon."

"Ah...sure, great one," he replied. At that moment, the five of them bowed their heads. The man voiced, "The whole of Dreg Pit wishes you a journey filled with triumph and ease. While most of us will miss your angelic presence, please... do let the authorities of Remnora know we don't regret living here, even if it's hell. We will always—"

"How did you know I was traveling?" Scarlet cut in, not looking back. "Did I include that in my order or what?"

The man hesitated. He then replied after a sharp breath, "Oh, you amaze me, Lady Requiem. Those kinds of resources aren't quite useful here in Mecha. Or... I was overthinking. Pardon me, then, your lordship."

"You seem to worry too much about respect," Scarlet said as she looked back. "You've already graced me with three titles—shall I expect another?"

Right then, she could have sworn the man smirked. And the others relaxed their stiff shoulders.

She added, "I am also familiar with all merchants from Dreg Pit. If there were any new ones, they would have told me beforehand."

At the hearing of that, the older man chuckled. He shuffled towards her, sheathing a short sword as he did. He mused,

"Well, well... I'm not disappointed. This is someone in my line of work, so I didn't expect you to fall for some petty tricks either." Pausing at a point, he added, "I have heard a lot about you, Red Requiem. I have always wanted to figure out who's stronger between us. Guess the day is finally today."

Scarlet finally turned to him. She thought, 'He must be one of those private hitmen. Heard they're deadly when under the right client.'

"We won't drag this on too much. So, you either die or go back with us. Well, not that I would want you alive if he didn't give the other option. But I hope you fight back so I can go with my demons."

The person he was talking about was none other than the one who visited his workshop recently. He was a figure for the insane mind to behold. The silvery moon graced his white cloak as he stood by the window. Everything about him whispered "ghost" and "fear."

He had said:

"My men will notify you about when and where to ambush the merchants. After putting on their uniforms, seize their wagon and deliver it to Scarlet. Fight her with the best of your men. And bring her back dead or alive. But if you fail, don't even think of coming back. Vanish without a trace... and let that stand as proof of wasted effort training you to be the best hitman."

This was someone he had always looked up to. The one who took him and others off the streets and, for their rare powers, trained them to be killing machines. There were many like him, including those who left the team for failing their missions.

But good thing was... their master would never kill any of them.

...

"I get it. This is what I am made for, trained to be fearless and efficient. In other words, killing people turns me on. Get her, boys."

Swoosh...

The three men sprang toward Scarlet. She retrieved her curved knife with caution. Deep down, she wondered what this man actually was.

A weak man challenging her only gives room for a quick death.

One of the men lunged with a short sword. But she deflected it with ease. Then, she stepped forward.

Slash, slash, slash!!!

The three men dropped to their knees.

"Uh?!" Scarlet's eyes widened.

They turned into dark embers in an instant. As if they weren't made of bones and flesh...

"Gag!" Scarlet coughed up a mouthful of blood. She dropped to her knees. A rapid effect surfaced within her. It felt as if hands were trying to rip her chest apart from the inside. She gasped.

She hacked up blood more with every intake of breath. Then, it clicked. The men she had killed just now had turned into dark embers! It meant...

Her eyes widened. 'Don't tell me...!' She glanced at the distant man. 'An incarnation of the Thousand-Faced Warlord?!'

She raised her arm to shield her nose.

The man mocked with a laugh, "Are you now getting back to your senses, my lady? Do I seem like a worthy opponent to you?"

At this point, being in trouble was even an understatement. If she had known who she's up against...

In a flash, the recent guys re-materialized around her. If she hadn't just rolled aside, things would have turned ugly.

Scarlet panted as she rose to her feet. Those guys were nothing more than unidentical clones of that man. You shouldn't kill them. Or else, you end up breaching a vessel of lethal poison, stalling to strike.

The man himself was the curse, the incarnation of a past warlord who once stood against the Three Gods of Fate. His power ranged beyond that of minor gods like Odin, Zeus, and the like. As a matter of fact, he killed Vidar—the last god on Earth back then.

This warlord sought immortality, not by divinity but by sheer will. Amused by his arrogance, the Three Gods of Fate gave him what he sought, but with a twisted boon.

He would live for long. But not in one body, nor in one form. He would be able to create unidentical clones of himself, who, after getting killed, disperse into poisonous gas. This warlord was the founder of the Ursa Constellation.

The incarnations are very rare, each carrying the curse and glory. Many incarnations could co-exist on one plane.

---

The man chuckled, staring at Scarlet. "You know what, my lady? I actually don't get why anyone would want you alive. Too inquisitive. Or should I put it as... too smart? Anyone else would have suffocated right after breaching the gassy clones. Maybe I should intervene before you pull a trick. The poisons aren't enough for you anyway."

He was left-handed. With a snap of his fingers, the three guys turned back to embers. Scarlet coughed up blood from breathing the air.

The man laughed. "Easy there. Don't worry; they aren't coming back, meaning it's only you and me. None of your abilities will work at this point, and if you can even move... I guess I won't be too surprised. You're close to being an Overlord, so what else?"

Scarlet pinned her palms to the warm floor as she coughed. How does she fight this incarnation? It's a 99% failure rate attempting to fight even a god's incarnation, not to mention an overgod's.