“Shocking News: One noble is dead, and an uncertain number of mercenaries were found dead.

These events happened last night after a raid on a slave market.

The witness on the scene said they only remember that their face looked like that of a demon, and one of these demons yelled these words:

"We are the Devil and Here to Do the DEVIL’S WORK.”

The location of these two men are unknown, and no slaves have been found at this time.

If you have any information on the location of these men or any of the slaves, please tell your local guards, and do not make contact with these people, for they are minacious savages that deserve death at the King’s hands.”

Sir Albert placed down his paper, took a sip of coffee, and lit his pipe.

He took a drag from the pipe.

“The game has begun... The Devils have made their first move.

It’s time for a new era for this country, an era of freedom and possibilities for all.

It is time to destroy these walls we have built up, and the Devils will be how it happens. I know you've been trying to use laws to change this country, but this man seems to have the ability to finish slavery once and for all.

So, old friend, what piece will you move now, King Alexander?”

At the same time, Albert was smoking his pipe and talking to himself out loud.

A 28-year-old man with blonde hair sat on top of a throne.

The man who sat upon the throne has never brought this fact up, but he despises what he sits on represents.

A waste of gold that could have been used to better the county and its people, but fools have decided to melt down the metal and place a man no better than any other upon this golden throne.

There were dark bags under his eyes, and his hair was a mess.

A shorter man with red hair knelt in front of the gold-haired man.

“Over a hundred dead, and you are saying only two people did it. Who are these people, and why are they doing this?”

“They may be trying to start a revolution, or they may be trying to distract us from the war with Shinrinyoku. They may have had a vendetta against one of the nobles.” Williams, the king's advisor, responded.

“Maybe they are trying to destroy the slave trade. If so, I think I must thank them.” King Alexander chuckled.

“Sir, you can’t possibly say something like that. What if someone overheard you say that without context? A powerful nobleman died last night.”

“Yes, I know, Williams, but I've been trying to destroy the slave market for years, and if this helps with changing the minds of the nobles, then I wouldn’t be too upset.

Tell the men who are looking for these two men to try and take them alive. I have a few questions for these Devils.”

“Yes, My King.”

“Oh, and set up a meeting with Sir Albert. I have a few things to discuss with my old friend.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Williams hurried out of the room.

“Whether you are the Devil taking claim of this land or passing judgment upon it, I shall see.”

A few hours before the King and Sir Albert read the paper about the night raid, back at the Devil's camp.

When the two of us had awoken, the mage had used a spell to clean our clothes and repaired any that had been cut.

I checked over my equipment.

My knife looked fine; I just needed to clean the blade.

Damn, only 13 rounds.

Every bullet I discharged felt like another step to a painful end.

All I could hope for was that crafter to be able to make my bullets.

Well, after our first raid, we were able to do a few more every time we would set up camp near one of the red Xs.

The drummers of war went through my mind during this travel to this capital.

Most of the raids didn’t end in casualties, and when there were, there weren’t over a hundred deaths. I used three more rounds during these skirmishes; only ten are left. Like a weird twelve days of Christmas with a thirteenth day.

I once more throw my morality into question and deconstruct whether becoming the Devil was making me as worse as the men I had claimed.

But every time I throw this ideal into investigation, I remember that the men I put a round in or cut their throats were not worth my empathy.

The only thing that would cleanse the crimes of this guilty land is purging these men from this world through flooding the land with their blood.

… I think I had lost my mind.

I’m beginning to wonder whether or not I’m going to be able to live upon the Earth due to what I have become.

Everyone has a cross to bear… I guess mine is the Devil’s.

In the distance, a large castle stood upon a mountain with a town below the castle and surrounded by a mountain range.

It seems like we made it to the royal capital; it only took two weeks, and over a hundred people died on our journey.

Christ.

We walked up this staircase that was carved into this mountain. We passed one or two people on our way up; they smiled at us, and we returned the greeting.

We were back in civilization, so I had to act a bit civil.

The city sits in front of us; there was a forty-five-foot brick wall and a few armed guards. They were clad in metal and checking everyone who entered.

Celeste passed each of us an adventurer card that said the name of our party and our names. The name on the card was not the band of the Devils; it was the band of the Hawks.

The name reminded me of a manga about a one-eyed and armed man killing demons.

“Where did you get the name Band of the Hawks from?”

“Back at the adventure guild, before we all met Sir Albert, he made a comment that I should call our group something different than Band of the Devil.

Some people believe that hawks represent freedom, and all we do is roam the land freely.

I’m happy he said that because two fools are running around in demon masks, killing and stealing people. And we don’t want to have anything to do with people like that, right?” she said in a mocking tone.

“Yeah, sure.”

Ever since the bloodbath we caused, Celeste hasn’t asked whether or not Miyamoto and I were the Masked Devils, but we were pretty sure that she knew. The fact that we were always covered in blood and came back to camp at the ass crack of dawn or dead of night didn’t help either. Celeste never pried into it or asked us whether or not it was true, so we never said anything.

I realized I haven’t talked to much her since we first met. I have never been the most talkative of people or too fond of kids either, but I may as well give it the old college try. As we walked up to the wall, I struck up a conversation with her.

“Why join the Devils?

I mean, a party that consists of two 32-year-old men and a young child who rides on top of a dog just seems a bit odd for someone in the high of their youth to join this.”

“Well, V, like I said before we left town, my friends were traumatized by the events that happened after our first adventure, and you said I was welcome to join you guys, so I did just that. I wanted to learn from people I believed to be strong and competent.”

“I’m neither strong nor competent, but I do promise you that I will teach you a thing or two about life.”

Celeste walked in front of me and stopped there.

“I know why you make jokes so much, V.”

“Why that?”

“You never want to get close to people. Always one foot out. All I’m saying is, don’t put yourself down too much.”

“Are you saying all these because that’s what you do, Celeste?”

We stood there as if we were at high noon.

It looked as if I struck a chord within Celeste because after a bit she walked away in silence.

I once again made a conversation into a battle.

I hope this doesn’t become a normal thing when talking to her.