Smoke and the stench of death filled the air as a group of mercenaries that were hired by a small nation crawled through the muddy battlefield. Silak, the largest member of this group, lagged behind. He was the largest and youngest of them all at nineteen years old. Being the largest, he wasn't tasked with the actual combat part of the mission given to them, he was there as support. What he was responsible for was carrying extra weapons for the two Blessed fighters in the group.
Tied across his chest and back were swords, knives, and spears. Although the Blessed leading the group didn't have amazing powers, they still had that little bit of advantage over a regular man. However, an Unblessed that's an expert martial artist would still kill them without a sweat. The Unblessed terrorist group is still considered a threat to the Blessed after all.
While contemplating his life that led him to this point, potentially dying for a nation he didn't care about, the person in front of Silak suddenly stopped crawling. It was a guy around two years older than him, they were picked up by the mercenary group at the same time. A fellow orphan, like most people in this part of the continent nowadays.
"I d-d-don't think we should continue on with the mission guys," he stammered.
His voice was so low that the explosions from the magical fireballs thrown in their direction almost drowned him out. However, the two Blessed caught wind of his words and stopped.
"What the fuck!?" One of the Blessed shouted at him. His fist and forearm glowed a light yellow, then with a swift short motion, he slammed it into the dirt. It created a small crater, although it wasn't as big as the ones that the fireballs were creating.
"You know we've got no choice man. Whether we go forward or back, they're all going to kill us anyway. Although, in the slim chance that we do succeed in this mission, then we'd be war heroes in that tiny nation, Khalmasca," the calmer Blessed said.
"Didn't you hear the rumors this morning? I've heard that they hired an outsider Blessed that isn't a part of their military. Y'all know what that means right?" The nervous mercenary argued.
There were some semblance of agreements from the grunts that the other mercenaries made. Even Silak at the back knew that they were pretty much sent to die.
"Hey now, we're Blessed hired from outside too!" The angry Blessed argued.
"I'm sorry team leader, but any half-decent mage with no Blessing can kill both of you," one of the other mercenaries butted in.
It was true, neither of the two Blessed's were particularly good in combat. One had a Blessing that improved his strength in small bursts and the other one had controllable and extendable hair. Their team wasn't even considered a combat unit several months ago in the first place. They were a group that specialized in manual labor and quick constructions on the battlefield. The group was sent to take down one of the outposts and create an opening for the main army because all the other mercenaries in their company had already died, they were the only ones left.
"I've heard that the outsider that they hired wasn't even a merc. People at the camp were speculating that it could be Maeve, the Omnimage," one of the quieter mercenaries added to the conversation.
"We are going against Phisk, they're known for hoarding ancient arcane knowledge, it's why Khalmasca got scared of them enough to start a war. Maybe they're going to pay her with a grimoire or some other magical thing," another mercenary added.
"You're psyching yourselves out, there's no way that bitch would be out here in the sticks. And those are just speculations about Phisk. They just have a lot of mages, that's all," the angry Blessed said in a weak attempt to calm his team down.
"Oh, so I'm a bitch now? That's new. Most people only ever called me a witch," a woman's voice said from above them.
They all looked up at the source of the voice. A woman with shoulder length hair stood above them. The clothes that she wore were both scholarly and militaristic at the same time. Like it was made so she can be both in the library or on the battlefield wearing the same clothes. It was the uniform for the non-graduates of the Academy, an institution for mages of all kinds, built in the middle of the continent.
And, the rumors and the gossip were true. Maeve, the Omnimage of the Academy, was there to aid Phisk in battle. Only having received a Blessing two years ago, the 21 year old already had her own nickname, given to her by other people. This was because while the average Unblessed mage only had access to one or two elements of magic, her Blessing made it so that she can manipulate and understand it all, making her potential near limitless.
The mercenary group and Silak stood up, dusting the dirt and mud off the front of their bodies. They all had their eyes trained on her, unblinking. She was on top of a mound, her posture and back completely straight. The fireballs coming from above and behind her made it hard to look at her.
She glanced through the entire team with a stern look on her face, she was known for being professional in her work. With a sigh, she wore the final piece of her uniform, a flat cap with the Academy's insignia on it.
"I'm just letting you all know, I didn't take offense to it. Call me what you like, I do not care," Maeve told them with a somber smile on her face. "I understand that I may seem like a monster to you all right now."
She rested a limp wrist on top of the handle of her rapier. It was different from the regular ones. This one had a mechanism and a trigger near where the index finger would be when gripping the handle. There were crystals in varying colors inside cylinders that were in the mechanism, it looked like it could spin around.
"Don't worry, I never considered saying sorry or taking back my word," the angry mercenary said with a nervous smile on his face. "Silak, spear!"
Silak responded quickly. He grabbed the spear from his back in one swift motion and without looking. Then, he threw the spear in his direction. For the other Blessed that could control hair, he threw an extra sword for her hair to wield.
"Seeing as how all of you are outsiders as well, mercenaries to be exact, I'll give you one chance to run away. Neither of us have anything to do with this war anyway, so I don't see any of you as enemies," Maeve explained.
"We were enemies the moment we both accepted this job!" The angry mercenary yelled before charging towards her. He leapt through the air by empowering the muscles in his legs with his Blessing.
"I've got no choice then," Maeve said as she unsheathed her weapon.