The White Wolf Saga

Situated at the estuaries between the Rhine River and the Dark Sea was what most people would call hell.

The sky had turned crimson from the demonic energy creating a toxic miasma in the air. The land had become a swamp from the excrement of rotting corpses, both human and demon alike.

Priests and Paladins were stationed along the defensive lines to routinely purify the toxic miasma and bless the corpses to prevent the demonic energy creating undead horrors.

Mages and their ariel counterparts cast raging flames, frigid ice, eldritch lightning, and all manner of powerful spells across the battlefield creating a symphony of bombardments in the backdrop.

Knights of the Rosaria Kingdom held steadfast against the endless hordes of demons and demonic beasts as Adventurers and Warriors bolstered their defenses.

Blades clashed against claws and teeth. Magic rained down destruction. Holy Light bathed the land in purification and healing. A grandiose image of glorious battle against the enemy of humanity that threatened to overtake the land.

However; no matter how much the knights, priests, mages, adventurers, or warriors spoke of honor, glory, fame, and riches; for the Mercenaries caked in crimson and black this was truly hell.

The title of Mercenary sounded grand to those unfamiliar with the Rosaria Kingdom. As the Kingdom holding the title "Garden of Blades" and ruled by the "Sword King", Mercenaries were regarded as warrioirs who sought not the honor nor glory of war. Those who sought neither fame nor riches from their remarkable achievements. They chased one single objective: survival.

Mercenaries were often commoners and orphans that had been forced to survive amidst the chaos of war. They had picked up blades or staves of the fallen to live, the concept of fighting to survive becoming ingrained into their very being.

Those that managed to survive were often taken in by whichever militant force had found or saved them. They became workers, servants, and disposable pawns on the frontlines. All for the sake of survival.

"Don't let them retreat!"

A pair of grotesque quadrupedal creatures, each the size of a grown man, ran through the field of bodies. Their massive bodies were covered in fresh wounds that were spurting black blood with each slight movement.

Chasing behind the grotesque creatures were men clad in ill fitted armor and chainmail, swinging their blades with reckless abandon.

Anyone could tell from a glance that the men were wearing armor and welding weapons that had been stolen from the corpses of fallen knights and warriors. From the wild and haphazard swinging of spear and brand, one could easily see that the men had little experience weilding weapons.

The men surrounded the wounded beasts, desperation and fear leaving a streak of madness in their expressions.

A group as large as theirs could easily overwhelm two injured beasts yet not a single one stepped forward. It was well known that a cornered animal would bear its fangs, and even an injured a ferocious beast was still a beast.

"Don't let them break through!"

The men weilding spears thrust them towards the creatures but did little more than force the pair to stay within the encirclement.

The grotesque monsters could sense the fear and hesitation in the men surrounding them but they knew that carelessness could easily end in disaster.

A single opportunity would decide the survivors of this battle.

An older man weilding a pristine silver blade charged forward, his fear making him impatient.

The beasts easily evaded his clumsy swing and wasted no opportunity to sink their fangs into his flesh, easily turning the man into a crimson heap of flesh.

The men hesitated upon seeing a member so easily devoured. Perhaps it was instinctual but each of them knew that their chances of survival had significantly plummeted as the wounded creatures cast their voracious gazes towards them.

"Aaargh!"

"Damnit!"

Whether brave, foolish, or spurred on by the chaos of the moment; the men began to charge. Thrusting their spears and slashing with their swords. Their numbers easily overwhelmed the beasts and their blades became stained in dark ichor.

However the creatures were natural predators with enough tenacity and might to overpower even a seasoned warrior. They tore through the men regardless of their wounded state.

Amidst the screams of horror and cries of agony the sound of approaching foot-falls was lost. Yet the ringing of metallic resonance howled far above the cacophony as the pristine silver blade of the fallen man was lifted into the air.

"I'll use it well."

Instead of the gruff voice of a veteran warrior or the youthful hubris of a young knight it was the shrill and high pitched whisper of a young girl that followed the howl of the sword.

Her long raven black hair swayed with each step as her fierce and sharp dark irises scanned the battlefield. In her hands lay the silver blade, much too large for her petite frame, yet she weilded it as if it were an extension of herself.

The girl kicked the ground and burst forth with a surprising amount of speed. She weaved between the encirclement of panicking men and brandished her blade. The sword howled with delight as it was swung and flesh was rended.

The beast growled and raised its cruel talons to swipe down upon its female assailant. But instead it was met with a silver flash that removed its limb from the main body.

The girl gave no time for the beast to cry out in agony and thrust her blade into its neck offering its life to the void.

Her face was expressionless but there was the smallest hint of predatory exhilaration in her eyes as she pointed her blade at the remaining beast.

"Come."

If not for her earlier display of dispatching the beast in two strikes the shrill cry of her voice would have been adorable. However in this moment it held a cruel and crushing weight as she released an overwhelming bloodlust.

The grotesque creature unleashed a mighty roar as it charged, intent on sinking its vicious fangs into the girl.

A silver flash met the lunging creature and the head of the beast fell to the ground with a dull thud.