Marked Ones: Advent of the Demon Prince

Commander Laris looked at the reports in front of him and clenched his fist. He struck his desk so hard that the wood splintered under the blow.

"That damned…"

Written on the documents were the tallied losses for their own and the enemy's forces in the battle they used as a distraction for their special units. At first, the battle was going well, then it turned ever so slightly south.

They lost too many men and too quickly to draw out the reinforcements in the numbers they needed for the operation to be a success. It was a purposefully destructive mission, but it would help buy time until the main army arrived.

However, it was not supposed to be like this. According to the observation teams, a few hours into the battle, the ground turned into a muddy mess from the water spells and mark abilities being used. Taking advantage of that, someone cast a large-scale Thunder spell.

Witnesses report that a young man with black hair was seen on the edge of the field was the one who launched the spell. Laris reached out to Mia to get confirmation that Lucius was the one who performed the spell, but she did not know.

Her response still confirmed his suspicions because Lucius had apparently told her he was going to cause a distraction. Laris did not put it past the boy to have done such a thing.

After the duel against his son, he realized that something was not right with the boy. He was too accustomed to killing. It was fortunate that he did not seem to relish in it, but he had long since accepted the idea of causing death. Though, the commander started to wonder if the sheer lack of emotion relating to killing was worse than relishing in it.

At least if someone enjoyed killing, you could expect that from them. For someone like that boy… it was harder to predict when he would resort to such action.

Granted, it was a war, so turning that mindset on the enemy was useful, the thing was, his attack hurt friend and foe alike. The staggering number of losses currently staring Commander Laris in the face numbered in the hundreds. It was hard to say how many were caused by the boy's spell.

They could have taken the time to locate corpses without any damage save the burns from the Thunder spell, but even that would not be an accurate tally. The estimates for Alorek's losses in that incident were almost double… but it was not worth the cost.

Laris sighed as he wrote up his report and sent it to the general he reported to. All the generals were normal humans, so none of them had left to join the front yet, but Laris did his best to keep his direct superior informed of all things.

No doubt that upon receipt of this information, they would order his execution. Even though the humans did not care for Marked Ones as more than fodder, the fact that there was a warrior with such power that they likely could not control was not something they would deem as acceptable.

Once he had detailed the entirety of the battle, he made sure to include all the details he knew of the boy and then included a copy of the reports he had read. Waiting outside of his office was a guard assigned to follow him.

"Take this to the communication post. Have a messenger hawk deliver this directly to Lord Richard von Petra. It contains information he absolutely must receive." Laris ordered.

The guard snapped to attention and left to carry out his orders. The old commander sighed again and went to go check on today's batch of recruits. By this point their numbers were starting to dwindle day by day.

He did not know how much longer they would have to hold out before the regular forces arrive, but they would have to do their best. Even though they were treated like garbage, the human kingdoms were still their home.

If they stepped aside and let Alorek advance, their homes would be razed to the ground. It was not like they would receive better treatment under the rule of the Alorek king. If anything, that kind of future would be much, much worse.

Once again, he found himself outside of the medical tent. There was no one impressive in today's batch, so he was content to simply walk past the staging area without paying too much extra attention.

Inside the medical tent, his son was laying in a bed surrounded by guards. They were stationed there to keep anyone from disturbing Laris' son. After the duel with Lucius, he had been emotionally scarred.

Losing so soundly was hard on his warrior's pride, especially since it was his first loss in general. It was also such an overwhelming defeat it was no doubt that his dear son was in such a state.

Even though his physical wounds have long since healed, the trauma kept the boy in bed, refusing to move. Any other soldier would have been tossed on the battlefield and told to fight and survive or cower and die, but he would not do that to his own son.

"You'll get your's Lucius. I am sure that your sins will follow you to the depths of hell where you belong." Laris growled, looking at the whimpering form of his precious son. "Count the days, boy."

Richard von Petra was an extremely honorable man and he would not stand for the atrocity Lucius committed. He may not care much for the Marked Ones on an individual level, but to kill one's allies was one of the greatest attrocities a warrior could commit.

One thing Laris wanted now, that he knew he could not have, was the opportunity to be the one to present that boy's head on a spike. He vowed that whoever would be assigned to do the deed would be given every resource he had. Everything and everyone in Watcher's Retreat would be at their beck and call.