'War, a madman's activity, anybody would come to such a conclusion when faced with the gruesome sight before me today. Blood, blood, blood, and more blood, it filled my vision every minute that I soon got tired of it as I desperately fought my way through this deadly naval battle, sticking with my mates at dangerous times and cutting down a mane when an opportunity presented itself.'

"BRACE FOR IMPACT!!!"

*Slam* the mane warship rammed the enemy ship throwing multiple soldiers into the waters while also killing off some in the process.

I, unfortunately, also got thrown off.

"Shit! Help me up!" I yelled as I desperately held onto the side of the ship for my life but unlucky as I was, the aggravating cries of war towered over my voice.

"Father, please keep me safe." I prayed to God helplessly holding onto hope that I would survive this day and see my newly born baby girl.

Determined, I tightened my grip and began to climb back up onto the ship while barely avoiding the countless arrows that were hovering back and forth over my head.

"Argh!" A stray arrow struck me by the thigh during my life-and-death endeavor but I bore the pain, gritted my teeth, and kept on climbing.

"Yes, I did it....huh?" Finally prevailing I let out a victory cry only to be cut short by a war-raged brother-in-arms who unconsciously kicked me off the ship and into the waters as he was about to board an enemy ship.

*Splash*

Injured and unable to swim back up, what filled my vision was a muffled image of the ongoing war. Our army was on the losing side despite possessing larger ships and more numbers. Why? The warships and longships of the manes were small and fast giving them more maneuvering options in their surprise assault against us.

There was also the case of that long-braided warrior, his strength unrivaled in the battle as he led a couple of elite men, boarded a ship, and took twice as many lives as the average soldier. He was truly a beast and he wasn't the only one, although the manes were abominations who worshiped other gods, they were truly the embodiment of strength and courage, two of the elements of a proper soldier.

"I wonder if God would curse me for giving praise to the unbelievers?"

These were the last words of yet another common soldier who had left this cruel earth for the Shamayim(heaven).

.....

"Arhhhhhh!!!" a dying soldier let out a loud battle cry as he took his final swing and decapitated the huge mane warrior. Almost Immediately a stray arrow went right through the opening of his visor, piercing his eyeball and killing him.

Multiple battles like these were taking place simultaneously across approximately 26 ships on the bloodied waters of the West and home to Dow, ruler of Yerushalayim.

It was a small-scale naval battle between the fleets of Dow and the emissary of House Rothild of the city-state Itzler, a vassal of the Azori Empire.

"These beasts! They didn't even let us ashore, truly savage humans undeserving of the love of the One true God." Seaman Chami let out in anger.

"Sir, they are throwing black water barrels into the sea!" a beat-up soldier in partial plate armor said with a worried and fearful tone.

"Those bastards! If only they would give ear to what Lord Rothild has to say." Chami yelled as he thwarted an enemy arrow aimed at him.

"Tch." he clicked his tongue in annoyance.

Cracked his neck, Chami leaped off his commanding warship, landing on an ally ship opposite him where he was met with the dreaded scene of his subordinate's heads being lopped off.

The culprit of this treacherous act was L'clua, a captain under the company of Judge Khan IV. He was a light brown-skinned middle-aged man of average height who had unique white braids, blue tattoos that covered the whole of his torso, and beautiful brown pupils.

Along with his intimidating physique, he held a mane axe in his right hand and an arming sword in his left while wearing a hooded linen cloth topped off with his black brigandine.

"The gods are surely on my side seeing how you came to me of your own accord." L'clua said while slowly pulling out his sword from the neck of an enemy soldier's corpse.

"I heard there was a brown demon in the flesh among the manes, it seems they were referring to you." Chami let out a degrading remark about the color of his skin.

"Haha, brown demon, I think I prefer that to my current one." L'clua simply laughed in response.

'Taunts aren't going to work-' Chaime was left with no time to think as L'clua dashed towards him with a right kick which he barely evaded by leaning his torso backward. Flustered, Chaime backed off creating distance between the two.

"But you know the youthful Oz said I shouldn't just disregard such comments, he advised me to...ERADICATE THE LINEAGE OF SUCH A PERSON WHO DARED TO DISRESPECT HIS TEACHER." L'clua let out a threat wearing an extremely dreadful expression on his face.

Sweat ran down Chami's cheek at the mention of such words, it was now obvious that the man standing before him was far above his level.

"But don't worry, I will make do with your head." L'clua tried to have mercy in his own way.

With all of his might,  L'clua kicked a corpse into the air thereby obstructing Chami's view and rendering him defenseless against the jet-like approaching spear that tore right through the corpse and struck him by the arm.

"Arghh!!" Chami cried out in agony. The fight had just begun and he had already sustained a fatal injury, it was the worst possible outcome for him.

Staggering, he yanked out the spear and proceeded to take a battle stance that was pathetic to look upon. His battle stance also seemed to place an abundant amount of faith in his plate armor.

"I have met thousands of people like you, people who place infinite trust on their plates and God but ultimately still end up losing their lives to me. Just like Ariel, strongest of the West, people who have reached a certain point can split a fully armored knight in half...LIKE THIS!" L'clua vocalized just as he was about to go on the offensive.

"FALL BACK! FALL BACK! BACK TO THE SHORES!" fortunately for Chaime, orders of retreat on his side permeated the battlefield.

"...I will let you go so you can inform your Lord just how fearsome a brown demon can be." L'clua declared and sheathed his sword. He stood tall and proud as he watched his enemies flee for the far end of the island where their camp was located.

"We won!!!! We won!!! Praise be to the gods!!!!" The fleeing soldiers were extremely demoralized as they heard the loud cheers of the impenetrable human force called manes.

.....

Lord Rothild's military encampment...

"Fuck! How the hell did you lose when you outnumbered them by at least half their forces?!" Lord Rothild of Itzler screamed angrily.

"I have no excuse, my Lord." The kneeling Chami uttered in shame.

"Hang him and put up his corpse for display. Let it be known to all that we fight in the name of the One true God who knows no losses." Lord Rothild declared.

Two soldiers responded to his orders and dragged the incompetent Chami to his death.

"How disgraceful Lord Rothild, you launch a campaign using God's holy name as an excuse but you fail to even deliver a simple message? Hahaha." The only man not including the Emperor and Dukes of the Empire who dared to talk in such a way to the Lord of House Rothild, the richest house of the West was none other than Thophel, builder of nations and adviser to the ruler of the West, Emperor Ethal himself.

'This old man, I didn't expect his ears to be wide enough to catch news of my campaign. The Empire must not find out about our plans lest we be eradicated.' Lord Rothild thought to himself.

"My knowledge alone has shamed the name of the noble Simon name, please have mercy and share with me your knowledge." Lord Rothild said in a pleading tone.

'So he is going to make use of me now that I am already here? He isn't too dull I see' Thophel said to himself.

"Of course. What type of Sovereign wouldn't aid his subjects?" He didn't mind aiding the suspicious Lord in his campaign as this particular mane company had been growing at a frightening pace, the only reason he was here though was because he had received news of a Miracle Worker walking the earth of the west. Such an abomination could not be allowed to go on. God shouldn't be angered.

'You will never find what you are looking for old man.' Lord Rothild thought to himself.

They both wore smiles on their faces while hiding their sinister plans and thoughts in their hearts, such was the life of a politician.

"Enemy ship!!!" A soldier outside Lord Rothild's tent screamed alerting the whole camp.

"What?! Why would they attack so soon?!" the agitated Lord Rothild let out such words as he ran out to confirm the situation. His guardsmen and Thophel followed along.

There, he was a ship standing quite a distance away from the docks bearing the sails of the enemy.

"Show yourselves, Ye, who dare stand before Lord of House Rothild, pioneers and makers of wealth" His guardsmen demanded.

*Dadadadumdumda* Drum sounds abruptly began to emanate from the enemy longship not minding their questions. Growing louder and louder, the mysterious and intense rhythms startled the battle-ready soldiers causing them to feel riled up ad tense.

"How was the enemy going to attack?" such questions filled the minds of the sweaty-palmed soldiers, those who had both witnessed and heard of the might of 'Dow's mighty men'. Having not received any orders of attack from their also confused lord, their tension slowly built up into worry as sweat continually ran down their cheeks until

"I greet the warriors of the gods, bearers of the will of the deities." Thophel blurted out such absurd words, and surprisingly a response finally came through from the ship.

"Ohh, a believer who knows of our traditions?" Oz who was on board said.

"When you come to be my age, you learn a few things here and there but never mind that, to what do we owe the pleasure?" Tophel asked.

"Tell Lord Rothild to get on a ship, there should always be a conversation before a battle, shouldn't there?" Oz answered.

"...Let us do as he says." Thophel said to Lord Rothild who had been following their conversation.

"Giving you the regard you deserve, this isn't your war, I refuse to converse with the very people who had no qualms about attacking an emissary." Lord Rothild strongly opposed.

"If it is a trap you are worried about, you need not. Those drums you hear playing are the mane's way of declaring a spot battle free. No honorable mane would go against this." Thophel said trying to persuade Lord Rothild.

"I still refuse to yield to them, better still, we should return the favor of the earlier battle." Lord Rothild asserted.

"Sigh...HAVE YOU NO MEMORY OF MY NAME, BOY?" Thophel said with a demanding and frightening tone.

"I do." Lord Rothild said in a firm but submissive tone, he naturally feared Thophel but he wasn't a coward either.

"Then say it, say my name."

"Thophel the creator, builder and....destroyer of nations."

"Does that convince you?" Thophel threatened.

Ultimately, Lord Rothild folded and boarded a ship along with Thophel and four guardsmen. Approaching Oz's ship, he ordered for the captain to only get close enough to have a clear view of his enemies.

Standing arrogantly Oz stood alongside the folded arms Lars and the ear-picking L'clua.

With each side standing at the forward end of their deck, the conversation began.

"So, which one of you here is the boss?" Lord Rothild questioned.

Oz, Lars, and L'clua all exchanged glances before L'clua stepped up and said...

"Well, I'm the oldest."

"Clearly." Lord Rothild said chuckling. He was clearly looking down on L'clua who possessed a skin color he had never seen before.

"Are you laughing at my teacher?" Lars questioned, Lord Rothild's attitude had been vexing to him from the start.

At Lars's question, Lord Rothild seized his chuckle and a dark expression wrapped his face as he came to a precise conclusion stating...

"So he's the oldest, you are the thickest and I'm guessing you are the leader here 'cause you keep looking me up and down like I am some fucking tart!" Lord Rothild said referring to Oz.

"Well...you do look sexy." Oz blurted out.

"This insolent fuck-" an irritated guardsman was about to unsheathe his weapon and behead the obnoxious Oz but he was suspended by Thophel who finally decided to come in on the conversation that was taking a weird turn.

"Let us not waste each other's time, why are you here Sir..." Thophel came to a pause as he realized he didn't know Oz's name.

"Oz, I go by Oz."

"Oz?! Slayer of ten thousand men?"

"Ohh, you really do know a lot, old man."

"You are quite the popular villain in the Empire, the gallant angel slayer, brilliant mercenary, plunderer of the seas, captain of the fifteen beasts, your many names have no end."

"Come on~, you are making me all red~"

"Silence!" Lord Rothild cried out, interrupting the conversation that was once again taking a weird turn.

"You, you there, the thick one, take over." Lord Rothild said pointing at Lars.

"Gladly." Lars replied as he was also fed up with his boss.

"I greet the lord, my name is Lars, and our ruler, the mighty Dow, Judge Khan IV is willing to strike a deal with your house even after reading the revolting contents of your war declaration."

"If you truly read my letter, you would know that I could end this war in a second." Lord Rothild asserted.

"But you can't, can you?" Lars said while shifting his gaze to Thophel.

"...."

Lord Rothild's silence was more than enough to confirm Lar's suspicion. The empire or any other sensible nation wouldn't or couldn't make use of a Miracle Worker, people that they brutally crucified even as children. 

In other words, as long as Thophel was present, no miracle would appear on the battlefield.

'Besides, all we have on their prowess are based on legends and history, unlike what the others think, their might may have just been made up.' Lars thought to himself, underestimating Miracle Workers, a thought he would deeply come to regret later on.

"What you want isn't really to purge your 'holy land' of us, the so-called 'idol worshippers' is it, Lord Rothild?"

'Ohh, so they have a smart one.' The silent Thophel said to himself.

"...."

"I heard that the Principality of Ashkenaz has been directly antagonizing Itzler over absurd border claims yet the emperor remains silent. The tree of war is probably going to bloom soon in your city which explains you not wanting to expend your troops over this war bu-" Lars was interrupted by Oz just as he was about to get to the good part.

"Stop it with all the lengthy words, they simply want to raid and steal our farmlands."