They stood in the middle of Pearl. The city around them was exhausted and the streets were empty. There were still signs of the chaos that had taken place in the darkness. All the Swords of the Guardians’ efforts to break the city’s morale weren’t in vain as they managed to sneak through the entirety of Pearl without anyone batting an eye at them or giving them a second thought.

This is it, Kreedence thought as Guardian stopped. The bald man gestured and Kreedence dropped his cloak, the whole company following suite.

Kreedence unsheathed his light sword, nodded to Guardian and strided towards the orphanage gates. The company of almost sixty looked miserable, but the damage they could do was incredible.

They charged without order for a stray rush was better: they had no shields and the archers atop the walls would struggle hitting rogue men rather than hitting a tight group.

The company reached the orange the orphanage’s outer walls.

The archers atop got out of their slumbers and reached for their bows. A dozen men beside Kreedence were faster drawing their revolvers and blasted five of the defenders.

One gun blew up, causing the soldier to drop in panic. Shrapnel bruised his face, but his hand remained in tact.

Guardian had hesitated to adapt to the new invention and for good reason -- revolvers were unpredictable. But Kreedence, having seen their huge advantage and brutality first hand, had nudged Guardian in the right direction.

Poor souls, he thought. They’re going to get obliterated.

Kreedence ordered the three axemen to chop the gates then found Una and got her by his side.

She needs combat experience, but letting her in the frontlines for a whole battle is mad.

“It’s gonna take us a while to bring those gates down. More archers are gonna come in that time. Protect your head. We’re safe from any ground troops until we get inside!”

Una nodded and ran to the gates, helping the axeman destroy the gates.

Three archers got out from their cover and rained down arrows. Kreedence dashed to the side and dodged a pair that flew his way. He bumped into Guardian and his heart dropped. The bald man simply nodded. Relieved, Kreedence back to the ranks of his men.

They fired continuously, but the archers remained unscathed by managing to hide.

“Keep going!” Kreedence ordered.

We brought guns and now its damn time to use them!

The bullets riddled the top of the outer walls and started breaking the cover away. One archer tried his luck and sprinted to another piece of cover. A bullet hit his shoulder, he grabbed it, slowing down. A moment later. two more bullets struck his chest then the last one pierced his head.

Kreedence closed his eyes then reopened them, sighing.

Such is war. How don’t I get used to it?

The gates came down and a group of ten companymen rushed in.

“Ten more go in! The others stay here!” He ordered.

Soldiers hurried through the gates, Una in their ranks. Kreedence grabbed her by the shoulder.

“What are you doing?!” She growled.

“Where do you think you’re going?!”

“Doing what Guardian ordered me to do! Fight in the front!”

At least she’s not doubting him, Kreedence thought, reluctantly let the rookie go and then went in himself.

The orphanage was an amber castle with massive arches along its walls. An ebony double door stood in the entrance and, ahead of it, a small group of guards in black leather armor and spears in their hands held their ground.

Twenty.

“Stop!” Kreedence ordered and soldiers stopped two dozen feet away from the guards. “Who’s got ammo -- fire! Who doesn’t -- wait till the smoke clears!”

For a moment, the guards’ faces showed. Then countless gunshots thundered and the clouds of gunpowder smoke hid any expressions.

Eight.

The company men rushed in, swords and daggers in hand. They beat the remaining guards. Five fought to the death, managing to pierce one soldier with a pair of spears. The ginger boy who’d played songs to swindle coins from drunk comrades--once even from Kreedence--fell to the ground and went pale.

Three guards surrendered.

The momentum rose and adrenaline rushed through Kreedence’s veins. He waved for the company to keep going.

The soldiers broke through the entrance and entered the main hall of the Pearl orphanage-castle.

It was a grand chamber in the middle of which a group of red hooded individuals surrounded a glowing crystal. They chanted something in a foreign tongue and waved wands.

Kreedence stopped the charge, his eyes widened.

“Sorcerers!” He shouted. “What are you doing here?”

One of the hooded individuals turned. “What are we doing here?” A woman’s whisper sounded from under the cloak. “This is our castle. You are the intruders.”

“No, we are the Swords of the Guardians. We intrude on no one and owe no debts. But you crone… the days of sorcerers are long gone and so should you be.”

“How?”

Kreedence raised an eyebrow and tightened his grip on his sword.

“How could we let ourselves forget this art form, leave our own castle and bow to the wishes of the inferior masses?” the sorcerer spoke. “And how could we leave all the power here undrawn?”

“We don’t want a fight. We’re a company, aren’t we? We’re here to get what we want, but we’ll do awful things if we need to. Taking this castle would be a whole lot easier if--”

“Shame, shame,” the sorcerer cackled. “Shame it’s not gonna be. Shame you’re such a fool and don’t the see the incredible potential of our artform.”

“You understand it’s evil!” Kreedence said and lowered his voice. He was getting angrier, yet also more terrified. “I don’t care that it’s outlawed in the continent. I care that you don’t subject people to the terror it brings!”

“By caring you’re stopping progress towards the greater good,” the sorcerer said. “And we don’t care.”

In unison, hooded individuals waved their wands. The crystal pulsated and stopped glowing. In its place, light appeared on the sorcerers weapons.

Before Kreedence could react, they moved their hands and three streaks of green smoke hurled towards him. He rolled to the right and the soldiers behind him scattered, two firing their remaining bullets. The smoke crashed into wall and doors behind, shaking the entire building.

“Divide into three groups and attack those crones!” Kreedence commanded. He gripped his sword and--with four companymen, including Una--rushed in.

He surrounded the sorcerer and she fired her magic again, blowing up one of the soldiers beside him. Blood splattered on his face, lined the walls and floors.

Kreedence struck, growling through his teeth. The sorcerer moved and he only tore her cloak. Una lunged and landed a weak hit. The sorcerer used her magic again. This time, Kreedence and the soldiers were ready and dodged. They stopped, the ground shaking from spells missing, then all attacked at once.

The sorcerer waved her wand and turned into a massive explosion. The flames and shockwave blasted Kreedence and the three soldiers away. He crashed into the ground, letting his sword fly far away.

Powers that be! in the chaos, he could muster up only one thought.

After a minute, Kreedence sat up, took out the small fires on his green tunic and stood up. His ears rung and the world shifted from side to side. Then an immense pain started from his hands: they were covered in crimson. Nonetheless, Kredence fought through the pain and reached the fallen soldier closest to him.

Dark spots and deep cuts covered Una’s face and her magnificent hair had turned into a coppery mess.

Kreedence shook her shoulders and she screamed.

Another rookie dying in my hands…

“This is just a burn! You’ll be fine!” he tried--as best he could--to comfort her.

Una screamed louder.

“Oh, powers that be, you’ll heal! Just get on your feet and we’ll get you help! I can get you up, just need a little cooperation!”

The rookie started squealing at the top of her lungs until her vocals cords gave out. Then she started banging her head on the cracked floor.

Calm down, you should be fine, it’s just that burns hurt a lot.

Kreedence grabbed her head.

“That’s won’t help!”

He turned Una around and lifted her up. Then he froze.

All the skin on her chest had evaporated, leaving bones, guts and organs to hang out, like vines in a dense forest.

Rushes of coldness and shivers replaced Kreedence’s pain. He dropped Una on the ground, shook his head and wiped tears with trembling hands.

Someone tapped his shoulder.

The companymen had managed to kill the other sorcerers with only one casualty. Una and the three bodies that laid on the floor were all from his little group.

Kreedence grabbed the sword the soldier handed him and put a hand on Una’s cheek. Tears and blood ran down it. He stabbed the rookie in the heart, turned away and shouted.

“Let’s go -- we can’t stall any longer! Someone call in five backup men!”

Kreedence and the remaining soldiers located a stairway in the back of the hall and ascended it, clearing out the corridors full of lone guards. They reached the top -- the quarters of the unlucky children -- and barged in, swords high.

Five orphanage keepers--women in magenta nuns’ outfits--scribbed on a stone altar in the middle while children hung off the ceiling with ropes, green smoke swirling around them, glass tubes full of blood coming out of their arteries.

The soldiers surrounded the women and Kreedence stepped forth.

“What did you do to those kids?”

“You wanna know? You really do?! We drew them for power! Oh, if you could’ve heard them scream!” One of the women cackled.

Kreedence took a deep breath and pointed at a pair of soldiers. “Get those children down!”

He turned to the women squeezed in the middle. His blood boiled like it had never before. The rage of running from home or killing on command couldn’t compare to the pure hatred within him. He was no sorcerer, but one didn’t have to be one to know what drawing power from living people did.

“I wish you deserved death!” Kreedence growled through his teeth. “What you deserve is to suffer until your existence is nothing more than a heap of dust forced to endure an eternity of suffering by your own sorcery!”

All the women laughed.

“I would make you suffer, but I’m not a sorcerer. I’d sentence you to serve in the pits of hell, but I’m not a judge. So… I’ll strike you down and let the powers that be decide your fate!”

The women laughed louder. “You won’t--

In one fell swoop, Kreedence sliced three heads off, kicked the other orphanage keepers to the ground and cut off their legs. He stood as they screamed and wriggled like eels. Then he cut their arms off, smiled and stabbed them in the hearts.