-What is war, if not a game that Devils play?-

Aewyn Talum lived a peaceful life in a dangerous place. Her settlement was far from the heart of the Waren Republic, and so merchants and soldiers alike didn’t stop by often. When a drought hit, the crops suffered, and when the crops suffered, Aewyn went hungry. Disease, monsters, bandits; a variety of things could cause problems and lead Aewyn’s stomach to rumble.

But she enjoyed her simple life. Her parents were hardworking and kind, and her older brother helped her when her chores were too hard for a small girl to handle. It was terrible when things were boring for weeks at a time, but she could put up with that much in exchange for a full stomach.

Today, she was off to a great start. Aewyn had dressed herself in the dark of early morning, and she was one of the first villagers to arrive at the well. The other early-rising children who came to draw water called out to her in hushed but cheerful voices.

“Good morning, Aewyn!”

“Aewyn, your bow is tied sideways.”

She gasped and set her wooden pail down, feeling the back of her dress where the bow was tied. It was sideways.

“I’ll help,” one of the kids offered. She was a little older than Aewyn was.

“Thanks. I was trying to hurry this morning,” the little girl excused.

“That’s fine. It’s hard to tie a bow when you can’t see it.”

The delay caused by this meant that other children had cut ahead of Aewyn at the well, leaving no spot for her.

She picked her pail back up and swung it idly while she waited. Her parents had told her multiple times not to swing the pail, but she forgot whenever she was bored and with a pail in hand. But soon, Aewyn’s patience was rewarded, and it was her turn to use the well.

She wound the crank as quickly as she could with her short and thin arms, and a bucket of cold water rose up from deep below. Aewyn transferred the water from the well bucket to her pail, heaved it off the ground, and promptly dropped it on the packed earth.

“Whoa, careful!” said a boy who was splashed.

But Aewyn didn’t apologize. Instead, eyes glazed with fear, she screamed and ran back to her house. The other kids looked where she had been facing and scrambled back home as well, shouting loud so that everyone else in the village would wake up.

In the distance, a mass of monstrous shadows were approaching, including four large beasts carrying something massive on their shoulders.

#

“It appears we’ve been spotted,” Astaroth grumbled, his cheek resting casually on his fist while he rode his makeshift palanquin.

The villagers were surprisingly alert to notice their approach even with only a sliver of light breaching the horizon. But at least there were plenty of children here, if Astaroth’s ears didn’t deceive him.

“Continue marching until the village entrance. Let’s see if they gather themselves up for us or hide like rats.”

“My prince.”

Rahashik still walked by Astaroth’s side. Their camp and prisoners were currently being supervised by Giyeridon, the Minotaur who used to be in charge of guarding the human knight “Cerilla”. Astaroth was pleased by his seriousness and obedience so far.

“Yes, Rahashik. Speak.”

“Is there any particular way you want us to handle this place?”

Taking an active concern over his opinions… a positive development. Astaroth smiled. “Leave their belongings intact, since they will belong to us in a moment. Do whatever you please to the villagers, but if they surrender you must capture them as war prisoners. Be quick or clever if you want to avoid that. Gag them, for instance.”

Rahashik pulled his scaly lips back in a beastly grin. “My prince, I like the way you lead.”

“Is that so?” the Devil Prince chuckled. “Ah, look. They’re gathering for us.”

With pitchforks, cooking pans, and other assorted improvised weapons in hand, a small mob of villagers emerged from their homes and gathered in the middle of the village. The tension in the air was palpable. Nobody talked and nobody moved. The humans were just waiting for the monsters to crash down like a wave, and the monsters were waiting for Astaroth.

He dragged out the moment, enjoying it immensely, and then parted his small fangs.

“I claim this village, in the name of Astaroth, Prince of the Nine Hells.” He lifted his hand and pointed at the mob of peasants. “Attack.”