Sudllar was an enormous city. It was

  even bigger than Luxendorf, since Luxendorf was walled in for defense

  and focused on rather specific commercial sectors. Sudllar, however, was

  sprawled out as far as the eye could see. There was nothing to restrict

  its expansion, so new districts and neighborhoods were being built at

  all times, expanding into the horizon.

  The Valyan Claw reached the city with only a day to spare, in spite of their hurry. It had been a fairly uneventful journey, to everyone's joy. More of a vacation than anything since they couldn't take on any new contracts for a decent length of time.

  Their carriages traveled down the main street that

  stretched throughout a large section of the city. People were

  everywhere. The street was wide with several lanes of carriages pulled

  by various beasts, ranging from ordinary animals to imposing tamed

  monsters. Large streets stretched out in all directions at regular

  intervals.

  They had to ask for directions a number of times to

  navigate the city, but they finally made it to the Wandering Wolves

  Corps’ compound.

  It was a large plot of land, mostly empty except for the

  various carriages and tents set up by the three divisions of the

  company. Sebastian wasn’t sure if the land was owned or rented, but he

  didn’t really care to ask if he was being honest.

  They were among the last to arrive. The compound looked

  more like a festival than a simple campground. People were cooking and

  trading the spoils of their contracts. In between some tents on the

  right hand side, a fighting ring was somewhat visible, surrounded by a

  crowd. The sounds of clashing weapons ebbed and flowed along with the

  sounds of cheering.

  At the center of the compound stood a large, luxurious

  mansion adorned with posters, banners, and flags of the Wandering Wolves

  Corps. Along the road to the mansion stood tents of the same kinds that

  the Valyan Claw and the rest of the White Fang used. The rest of their

  division were set up in the distance, and so they found an open space

  close by.

  “Marion, make camp. I’ll brief the the vice captain,” Sebastian said.

  “Yes, sir!” She turned to the rest of the unit as

  Sebastian walked away. “Everyone, up and out! Mages, tents up! Cisquell,

  get the beasts settled in! You know the drill, get those carriages

  unpacked—“

  The orders blended in to the background noise of the

  distant crowds and vanished completely as Sebastian entered the vice

  captain’s central tent. As soon as he announced his presence, Vice

  Captain Sellar called him into the meeting room. Lieutenant Lluch and

  Lieutenant Buchan were already in there.

  “Lieutenant Moore, good to see you again. I trust the journey went smoothly,” Vice Captain Sellar said.

  Sebastian shared a nod with the other lieutenants as greetings and sat down.

  “It did, sir.”

  “Good, and well done on the contract. Given the distant

  location, I wasn’t sure if you would be able to actually complete it in

  time.”

  “It wasn’t without some issues, actually. Our intel was widely inaccurate.”

  Vice Captain Sellar’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Really?

  Hmm, inaccurate requests are issues we always struggle with. Was it bad

  enough that we need to make a thing of it?”

  “Well, rather than a dozen bandits, we were faced with

  about 50 of them in a decently fortified camp. Sure, most of them were

  only around level 15, but the leader was almost level 40. It was

  unexpected, but it ended up not being too big of a deal. We even turned quite the profit since we managed to fill our pockets with as much coin as they could hold after we cleared it out. Left the rest for the villagers and merchants to collect. It did belong to them originally, after all.”

  “An alliance of vagrants and criminals?” Lieutenant

  Buchan asked with one of his eyebrows raised. “Fascinating. It be a simple conglomeration of multiple crews due to uncertainty born from the escalating Lumerian aggression. I have heard rumors in the South of chaos spreading among miscreants. Or it could be something bigger. The kingdom's spies sowing seeds of discord by influencing the vulnerable and the weak of mind.” His voice was rough; it had a deep vocal fry like that of a chain

  smoker.

  Sebastian had learned some backstory for all the

  lieutenants, Gregori Buchan came from an island in the South Sea.

  Apparently, his people had a tradition, a ceremony, which involved

  tempering their young with fire. The exact details were kept hidden,

  local secrets taken to the grave, but Sebastian figured that it had

  caused damage to his vocal cords.

  "They did fight with an unexpected fervor. You'd expect mere bandits and thieves to just give up, but these guys just kept fighting."

  The vice captain clicked his tongue. “It certainly sounds like the sort of scheme they'd cook up. Keep the federation's various mercenary companies busy so they're less inclined to accept war contracts. It's been a while now so it's probably already been dealt with, but I'll inform the alliance of the situation. Regardless, it's none of our concern right now. I’m just glad it worked out,” Vice Captain Sellar said.

  “And luckily, we won’t have to deal with faulty contracts, or potential political shenanigans for that matter again, not until

  we return from the front lines.”

  ***

  They had one day to enjoy the

  festivities until the last unit would arrive and the company was finally

  fully gathered. Sebastian spent most of the day cultivating, until

  Gawen and Safi turned up at his doorstep.

  “Teacherman!” Gawen shouted as they stormed into his

  office. “I hope you’re not sleeping in there. If you are, get up. We’re

  headed to the fighting rings. Join us!”

  Sebastian ended his cultivation and stepped into his

  office. “No, Gawen, I’m not sleeping. I’m working, or training, as

  always. But sure, I’m guess I could take a break.”

  Both of his students lit up, they hadn’t had a lot of time sparring and training together since they joined the corps.

  “I’m not the same as I was,” Gawen said. “This time, I will be getting that hit in.”

  Shaking his head, Sebastian chuckled. “You can try.”

  The three made their way across the compound. There were

  well over a couple of thousand people gathered in one place, it was

  practically a town in its own right. Although, not everyone were members

  of the company, there were plenty of guests and merchants taking

  advantage of the gathering.

  Safi was quieter than normal. The intensity of hundreds

  of rambunctious mercenaries in one place wasn’t helping her nerves. She

  put on a brave face, however, and it seemed like she was genuinely

  excited about a nostalgic training session.

  The fighting rings were one of the more popular places on

  the compound. Mercenaries typically enjoyed fighting, after all. There

  were a couple hundred people watching the fights. Loud cheering and and

  clashes of steel and flesh alike washed over them as they joined the

  crowd.

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  Three rings were set up in a line, each quite large to

  accommodate most Skills without affecting the audience. Still, there

  were no protections in place. Anyone watching had to be careful not to

  be caught by stray attacks.

  “This isn’t exactly like training back home, is it?” Safi asked nervously.

  “No, it’s a hell of a lot better!” Gawen ran ahead to

  sign all three of them up to fight. He stood out as he made his way

  through the the crowd, being so tall that most people only reached up to

  his shoulder.

  Sebastian chuckled at the sight of Gawen’s head bobbing

  excitedly above a small crowd of people. He nudged Safi with his elbow.

  “Don’t worry, just block them out and do your best.”

  Being a lieutenant apparently earned him some

  preferential treatment. He was called up, along with Gawen, just ten

  minutes later.

  They stepped up to either side of the ring, which was a

  raised platform made of some sort of stone tile with small stairs on

  each of the cardinal directions. Sebastian drew his sword and assumed a

  stance from his [Intergalactic Sword Art].

  He stood with his side facing Gawen and his sword out in

  front of him. Although there was some basic armor provided to every

  member of the corps, Sebastian included, he opted to trust his own

  physical cultivation. He still preferred comfort, and so he had

  continued wearing his comfy, stretchy slacks and t-shirts whenever the

  circumstances allowed.

  His former student took to a basic stance of the [Soaring

  Dawn Sword Style], his sword above his head, tip pointing toward

  Sebastian. Gawen, however, embraced the corps’ armor. It was a small,

  plate cuirass strapped to his torso to protect the heart and ribs and

  similar small, plate protections for the wrists and ankles.

  Gawen dashed forward. He thrust his sword at Sebastian’s heart.

  Sebastian had seen the move many times before. It was an

  Attached Skill called [Ochs Thrust]. It would pierce through steel, if

  it hit. With a casual swing, Sebastian knocked the thrust away,

  interrupting the Skill.

  Gawen used the momentum to pivot into another Skill, a swing at his head.

  It might have worked against someone his own level, but

  Sebastian ducked under the swing and struck Gawen in the stomach with

  his sword. He controlled his intent to ensure that his blade wouldn’t

  cut, but the impact sent Gawen tumbling across the ring.

  Cheers and laughter erupted around them.

  As Gawen struggled back onto his feet, coughing and

  trying to catch his breath, Sebastian said, “You’ve improved, but you’re

  gonna have to try harder than that.”

  It only fueled the fire. Gawen rushed at him again, and

  again. Sebastian’s rank, and the fact that everyone was thoroughly

  enjoying the show, made it so that nobody challenged them for the ring.

  They continued for another twenty minutes, after which Gawen was in need

  of some healing.

  “You’re up,” Sebastian said to Safi.

  She steeled her resolve and walked onto the ring.

  Unlike her older martial brother, Safi took a high guard.

  She intended to take a more controlled approach to the spar, ready to

  attack or defend depending on Sebastian’s actions.

  He smiled and took the initiative.

  With a [Quickstep], he appeared directly in front of her.

  Startled, she swung down.

  He blocked her attack, matching power with power.

  Sebastian’s eyes narrowed in thought for just a moment as the two swords

  made impact. There’s little to no hesitation left in her attacks. Although she still lacks confidence, she’s gradually overcoming her issues. The realization tugged on the corner of his lips. I’m glad.

  Safi was surprised at his sudden appearance, surprised

  again when he so effortlessly blocked her full strength attack with such

  ease, and surprised for a third time when he vanished, causing her to

  stumble forward.

  Like a ghost, Sebastian used his footwork, imbued with

  his [Fleeting Cloud Step], and moved around Safi. The crowd oohed at his

  disappearance and laughed as she stumbled. Sebastian tuned it out. He

  stood on the other side of the ring and let her catch her balance before

  pointing his blade at her. “Come at me,” he said with a proud smile.

  In her youth, Safi wouldn’t be affected much by simple

  provocations, but her time as mercenary had influenced her more than she

  anticipated. Any concern for the growing crowd watching, cheering, and

  at times laughing seemingly faded away from the young warrior. Sebastian

  noticed her eye twitch and her hands’ grip on the sword tighten.

  She pounced.

  Skill after Skill descended as she tried to catch

  Sebastian. A simple [Horizontal Slash] transitioned into an [Upward Tail

  Slash] which seamlessly moved to an [Ochs Thrust].

  Although Gawen was still superior overall, Safi had

  advanced further with her intent. Sebastian dodged every attack by a

  small margin, and he could feel the essence of the Skill and the intent

  woven into the attack brush against his skin.

  Impressive. I’d probably need to use my [Stone Skin] to tank a direct hit to avoid any serious injury. Pride washed over him. She would have to actually hit me first, but it’s still impressive how much she has improved.

  He dealt with each attack without issue but actively

  allowed her to come close a few times. As they fought, Sebastian tried

  to point out her mistakes and correct her movements. Not with words but

  with action. He exploited openings and highlighted weaknesses.

  To Safi’s credit, even while frustrated, she absorbed his

  teachings like a sponge. Even during the half hour they sparred, she

  improved noticeably.

  When they finally finished, however, she walked off the ring bruised and battered, much like Gawen before her.

  Both the mercenaries and guests who were watching the

  whole thing cheered loudly. Safi’s cheeks turned red as they left the

  area. Her valiant efforts against a lieutenant had earned her a good

  deal of respect from her peers.

  The next day, the entire company gathered behind the mansion.

  Captain Cirera stood above them on the balcony. Hanging

  on either side of the balcony were two identical massive banners with

  the image of a majestic wolf. The captain himself was a dignified old

  man with a long yet neatly trimmed white beard and short hair with only a

  handful of dark strands remaining. He wore a partial suit of steel

  armor, intricately decorated with golden wolves.

  Sebastian stood behind Vice Captain Sellar along with his

  fellow lieutenants. The six units of the White Fang Division stood in

  neat formations behind them. Theirs was one of the three divisions of

  the company. The captain’s own personal unit stood alone to the far

  left. At a glance, the other two divisions weren’t much different than

  the White Fang, although the captain’s personal unit radiated an

  impressive pressure.

  Captain Cirera just stood there, looking over his army,

  still and silent. Yet, everyone of the almost 700 members of the

  Wandering Wolves Corps waited quietly for him to speak. There was no

  whispering or shuffling, which spoke volumes of their respect and

  admiration. After a minute or so, the captain finally addressed the

  company.

  “Wolves!” His voice was clear and deep. Everyone present

  heard it as though he was speaking directly to them, regardless of how

  far back they stood. “It is rare for the entire corps to gather like

  this, but I am certain you all know why. We march for war!”

  Fists tightened in the crowd and while some faces remained unperturbed, others almost paled.

  Although he noticed the mixed reactions, the captain

  continued. “This it the first war contract our Wandering Wolves Corps

  has accepted in the past hundred years. I can see the worry on some of

  your faces, and I understand why. There’s good honest coin in guarding

  merchant caravans or fighting bandits. War… War is a different beast

  entirely.”

  He paused, as if considering something. It humanized his

  speech, made it seem as though it wasn’t written in advance. Sebastian

  felt certain it was all just a performance, an impressive performance

  but a performance nonetheless.

  “Do you know why we have never accepted a war contract

  all this time?” the captain asked rhetorically, as if he had finished

  his thoughts. “Some say it’s because we’re cowards.” He paused and shook

  his head in disapproval. “Fools, all of them. We are many thing but

  cowards are not among them. Wolves are loyal. Wolves are clever. Wolves

  are efficient! Why risk life and limb on a battlefield for a few measly

  coins when we can keep our neighbors safe and fill our pockets at the

  same time by dealing with bandits and monsters?” Eyes narrowed and a few

  even nodded their heads in agreement. “So what changed, you might ask?

  “The answer is simple. Upon completion of this contract, everything!

  We’ve been offered more coin than any of us could spend in a lifetime!

  Nobles will seem like beggars. Merchants will grovel at your feet. Your

  children and children’s children will be among the elite at the major

  academies as you feast in mansions with servants tending to your every

  whim.” The worry on people faces melted away and in its place were wide

  eyes and greedy grins. “We are Wandering Wolves, and we march to war,

  not for honor or peace or power. We march for family! For the future! FOR FORTUNE!”

  The crowd erupted in cheers.

  Sebastian’s eyes narrowed. It was a decent speech.

  Nothing great, but it clearly did the trick. His goals, however, weren’t

  measured in wealth. He agreed to march to war for simpler reasons—for

  strength, for a sense of duty, for justice— No, not justice.

  For vengeance.

  Thanks for reading!

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