The artisan had been chained to her work desk for the past five years of her life, ever since she'd fallen into debt. She thought she was a skilled artisan, but materials were so expensive, and when two projects had fallen through in a row, she just hadn't been able to keep up. And now, as a slave, it was obvious that she would never be able to make up her debt and just keep working forever.
The loss of her freedom hurt, but being turned into a piece of a machine was worse. She would never be able to aspire to a better life, not doing the same tasks over and over for the demons. At least they seemed largely uninterested in her, a plain woman with only moderate talents.
Sometimes she dreamed of creating something that could break her shackle and escaping, reaching her family in the south, but it was just a fantasy. Most likely she would work for the rest of her life, earning just enough to purchase a little more freedom for herself.
Then one day she heard soldiers shouting outside the workshop door. First ordering everyone into battle, then screaming, then commanding a retreat. She and the others huddled in their places, desperately hoping that no one would start a fire that would kill them all by heat or even smoke. Whoever was attacking, they would soon have new owners and then it would be back to work.
An enormous man with shaggy dark hair entered the chamber, dropping a soldier he'd been carrying in one hand. As he stepped toward her, she shivered and pulled away, for all the good it would do. She had been wrong about the worst: in the heat of the attack, the attackers might take whatever they wanted, even her. He was reaching for her...
But the beast of a man simply tore open her shackle. When he moved back, she saw his eyes and they were surprisingly gentle.
"Go," he told her quietly. "I can't guarantee your freedom, but you have a new chance."
"There..." She almost didn't dare to say anything, since she might anger him, but he looked back to her as if he truly cared. "There's a garrison to the north. They'll just catch us."
The man straightened and she saw the danger in him as his eyes shifted north. "That won't be a problem."
The guard was young, but he was proud of his position. He was one of only three who had access to the war vaults, a status granted only to the most trusted and loyal soldiers. Inside those vaults lay unimaginable riches, all manner of chakra-imbued assets from armor to poisons to fruit. It was a vital point, valuable enough that he'd even seen one of the demons once.
Actually taking all those items was beyond the guard - they would probably kill him. But just fulfilling that position had been beneficial, doubling his pay and making his Power skyrocket from just under 200 all the way to 218. At his age, everyone could see that he was on his way up in the world.
When he went to the bar, he was able to buy everyone drinks, they wanted to hear his stories, and the barmaids showed interest in him. But that day there was an absolutely gorgeous woman drinking there, outshining all the others combined. She wore a dress that hugged her body, and when she crossed her legs he saw a tantalizing flash of thigh through the slit on the side. The guard rushed to buy her a drink, and even though she'd been ignoring the others, she smiled at him.
It turned out that she was a fighter herself, with 205 Power, and she was fascinated by his stories from the vault. She even asked to see, but she was obviously only teasing. As she listened raptly to his stories, he couldn't stop himself from staring at her. That blue hair was gorgeous, but was all her hair blue? When he asked, she just giggled coyly.
Somehow one drink led to another. The guard couldn't seem to stop winning, making her laugh over and over, and she even accepted his arm around her waist. He was planning to grab between her legs, but his head was just so muggy...
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
When the guard awoke, the bar was empty except for soldiers. As they demanded information about the empty war vaults, he realized that his life might not be going so well after all.
The merchant's life had been going from bad to worse ever since that demoness took over the Commonwealth Trade Guild. Usually new conquerors left the CTG alone and only demanded a cut of its profits, which was just a cost of doing business. This one had designs, and they were causing trouble.
Now everyone was saying that the elves had treacherously attacked the Commonwealth and so they were marching to war. Normally war was good for business, but not when it shut down all trade in the north. The merchant shuffled through his ledgers, searching for a way through this madness.
Eventually he decided that the only choice was to supply the demons and hope that they would honor the contracts. He put together a large shipment of resources that cost him half his fortune, and hired suitable guards that cost him the other half. That included combat artisans, element-bearers, and even a young woman who was a cultivator from Cloudspire.
If this didn't work, he'd be ruined, but if it paid off maybe he could ingratiate himself to the new regime.
At first the journey went well enough, his guards fighting off some bandits and a follower of the Savage Creed. The merchant began to grow confident that he'd made the right decision. Despite the danger of the Commonwealth these days, you could still do business if you had sufficiently strong guards.
And then one woman went through all of them like the wind.
The merchant had no experience with such things and couldn't follow the movements, but he could tell that she made them look like clumsy children. When she fought his cultivator, it was obvious that the woman he'd hired was just a pale imitation of the real thing.
Finally the woman stood in front of him and the merchant wondered if he was going to die. She hadn't killed any of the guards, but he might be her target. But instead of attacking, she removed an enormous pile of Crests from a spatial bracelet and dumped them in front of him.
"The Council of Elders is taking your shipment and offering this as compensation," she told him. "If you had kept traveling north, the demons would have taken everything you had and given you nothing. Think about who you do business with in the future."
Then she was gone, leaving him with an empty caravan, stunned guards, and a massive amount of money. The merchant simply stared for a while, then began shoving the chakra-heavy coins into his spatial purse as fast as he could. This payment was generous... more than generous.
Well, one sign of a good merchant was changing with the times...
The groom sat miserable at his own wedding, awaiting horror and humiliation. He and his bride had planned everything out, even visiting the Kama Altar to bless their marriage. Both their families had gathered for the celebration and they had spent a great sum on Sacred Palm Wine, which was supposed to grant them good fortune.
But while he had been courting his bride, the Commonwealth had changed. Some of the familiar thugs from outside town had joined the demons and gained powerful new demonic arts. The groom was not weak, but trying to fight them had only earned him a broken nose.
Now they took over the wedding, mocking the families and preventing them from leaving. The Sacred Palm Wine they had all planned to share was passed around the former bandits as they celebrated their new good fortune. His bride sat trembling among them, knowing that they would soon be treating her the same way, but there was nothing anyone could do.
Except, one by one, the bandits started to drop. They laughed at first, mocking their comrades who couldn't hold their liquor, and then began to panic. By the time the last of them tried to draw his sword, he was gasping for breath as his throat blackened.
Every single bandit who had drunk the Sacred Palm Wine was dead. As the groom went to his bride and they clung to one another, their families celebrated and proclaimed that the wine had granted them a miracle.
It was a miracle, of a sort. But the groom poured the rest of the wine onto the ground.
As the last wisps of Baleful Breath left Kai's lips, he saw another fort destroyed. It was troublingly easy: one of the others boosted him into the air at a distance, then he timed Thunderbird's Wings to end its rush just above a fort. When he slowed, briefly hanging in the air, he'd unleash a column of Baleful Breath.
Most of the forts had strong outer walls and open courtyards in the center, which quickly became cauldrons of death. Some of them had been left as empty shells, wisps of death escaping from within, while others had burned to the ground before he left.
In theory, this was the last one. They'd produced a swath of destruction across the center of the demon-controlled part of the Commonwealth, moving unpredictably but creating a clear pattern northwest, as if they intended to push all the way to the capital. Omilaena had set up one last poisoning further in that direction, so they were instead going to head northeast and slip out from under the demons while they set up traps and ambushes in their path.
Hopefully that would buy them enough time to reach the Kama Altar like Zae Zin Nim wanted. That was supposed to unlock all the chakra she had been building up, though he wasn't sure exactly how. She had been oddly quiet lately, focused on nothing but their arrival.
Well, whatever the details, this was their last major goal in the Commonwealth. In theory things were about to get a lot simpler.