A man stood in the middle of a silent battlefield. Underneath his boots was a corpse of a barbarian with a sword protruding from its chest. The man then pulled it out and crimson blood trickled down the earth, dripping from the tip of the sword. Brushing his hair backward, the man's purple eyes glowed as he surveyed the rest of the people around him. Those at the sidelines all took a step back when they saw him looking at them, feeling frightened.

Everywhere they look, there are bodies, and the whole place reeked of death. The barbarians who were once two platoons in numbers, dwindled down to just over 30 after this group came and infiltrated their camp. The scarier thing was, there were just three people, and they all had almost wiped them out.

The first attack came from a man with short ashy-grey hair. He walked right into their camp and when he got stopped by one of them, he immediately slit his throat open. Those who saw it were surprised at first, came back to their senses, and started charging towards him.

But before they could even get close, the people who were in the front all died from another man's sword, identical to the first.. It was so quick that they had not seen what had happened and were all caught by surprise. That's when chaos ensued.

The leader of the barbarians got notified of the invasion and immediately set off. When all of them were armed and ready to fight back, the two men retreated to their confusion.

'A diversion?' was his thoughts.

It wasn't. The two identical men had only waited for one other man to come. They both stand down as he came, walking like he has all the time in the world. If the barbarians thought that those two from earlier were adept killers, the last one was inhumane.

Dark flames surrounded him like a serpent, snaking around his feet all the way to his right arm which was holding a black sword stained with blood. His black messy hair fell over his eyes which he constantly ruffles with his gloved hands. His black cape was being blown by the wind, and if one would pay attention, the bottom part was also soaked in red. Black ink peeked at the side of his neck which was being covered by the collar of his top.

The dark-haired man lazily smiled, "That second camp of yours sure is troublesome. It made me late," he then announced in a carefree manner.

Just from his words alone, the leader immediately had a hunch. The group also attacked the other troops. But of course, the dark-haired man did it alone, but he has no way of knowing that.

Due to anger, the leader ordered his men to attack them. He has no qualms because there were only three of them, severely outnumbered.

"Leave that man to me," he said with gritted teeth and glared at the dark-haired one.

The barbarians who had gained confidence from the presence of their leader, all charged forward with swords drawn on both arms. The man in black smiled devilishly and charged as well, quick as lightning. Each step he took scorched the earth from the black flames that wrapped his body.

Not one moment longer, all of those who were at the forefront had their heads flying. One by one, they all dropped like flies on the ground and made a pool of dark crimson. Most of them could not stop their momentum and had died as well.

He caught the last person on their hair and beheaded them in one clean stroke. His body toppled over as his head remained on the hand of the dark-haired man. He looked at it for a second before flinging it to the side in nonchalance.

His purple eyes then turned to them, glinting with malice.

"Come forward, or I will," he declared, warning them.

The rest of the barbarians were all stoned to their feet, staring at him with an incredulous expression on their faces. Even the leader was shocked by how fast the whole thing was.

'Who is this?!'

His head tilted to the right, "No one? Okay then..." he uttered.

The next few seconds were a whirlwind of heads flying and blood spraying everywhere. The three men moved like the wind, so swift and agile. Not one from the opposite side could even touch a single strand of their hair.

It had only happened for a short time but their numbers decreased dramatically.

"Retreat!" The leader bellowed and fell back. The others who were lucky enough to promptly pull themselves back were saved from being sliced open.

The leader had not seen it coming at all. He could not believe that only three people are capable of bringing down a hundred of them. They are already considered savages who plundered villages. They are all born to fight on the battlefield. Yet here they are, completely under their mercy.

He let out a curse as his eyes caught sight of his fallen people on the ground before turning his attention back to the enemies. The three stood there, calm and collected, with one looking extremely arrogant.

'He is their commander...'

It was obvious, judging from how the two behave around him and the apparent aura he was emitting. The man had a dominating presence, thicker than the flames around him. Most importantly, he reeks of death.

"Eh? What's wrong?" the dark-haired man voiced out. He has the look of visible delight as he observes the wary faces of the barbarians who had stepped back a good meters away from them.

"Do you think by standing so far away, you could all escape?" he then lets out a dark chuckle.

Yvan and Ylmer started to pity the other side. When their master is on the battlefield, he turns into some kind of a monster who kills mercilessly. He's like a maniac, always finding pleasure from killing.

Lukas took a step forward, and the barbarians flinched back. It made him chuckle for the second time. His low laugh echoed throughout the area and reached everyone else's ears. Those who heard it felt shivers going up to their spines.

Lukas then raised his left hand and the black swirls seized one person who couldn't even fight back. He was then brought forward in front of Lukas who gripped his neck, choking him. All of them watched as he slowly raised that person with only one hand, easily.

Black tendrils of flames slowly wrapped themselves over the man's body and crept inside his ears, nose, eyes, and mouth. The poor man screamed in pain, struggling against Lukas's hold. Both of his hands grasped Lukas's arm, but it was futile. He was already losing strength and consciousness. Even if he did, he still wouldn't make him budge.

The sounds he was making terrified the rest, but they couldn't look away. They watched the man slowly being swallowed by flames and burning his insides. After what seemed to be an eternity, he stopped moving and hung limply in Lukas's hand.

Lukas's two companions gulped as they looked at their master. No matter how many times they have seen the same scene, they still could not get used to it. Especially at how indifferent he was.

'Monster! Demon!' screamed the barbarian leader's mind.

He is standing there, stepping over the corpse of one of his men. With his hair swept back, they could all now see him clearly. Those purple eyes that seemed to gleam brightly held deviousness in them, as if he sees them as mere playthings. Anyone who had seen those mysterious black flames as well. Which wouldn't extinguish no matter how strong the cold winds blew.

A devil. They all saw him like that.

Who would have such inhumane strengths aside from a demon? And those black aura around him...

"Diavolo..." one of the barbarians muttered.

All those beside him who have heard it agreed. He truly is the devil.

The leader of the barbarians shivered as the devil's eyes went to him, almost making him step back. The man then smiled devilishly, and in a blink, bolted to their direction.

-------------***

Yvan cleared his throat to get the attention of their leader and master. The latter was gazing at the burning tents in the distance which was once the base of the barbarians. His face was unreadable so Yvan could not figure out what he was thinking.

After a while, the man then turned his head to him. Yvan took that as a sign and gave him the letter which came from a messenger bird just now. It has the royal seal on it, so he immediately sought his master.

Lukas's eyes drifted to the rolled missive before he took it from Yvan's hand. Just like Yvan, he saw the royal family's seal and with a raised brow, opened it.

Ylmer joined his twin brother at his side and waited for the news that came together with the message. The emperor wouldn't send one if there is no purpose after all. Either it would be another quest or something else they do not know. Just then, the two of them watched in silence when Lukas's expression shifted. They could not guess if it was from disappointment or confusion, but it only solidified what's in their minds.

"Heh. That old man wants me back huh," he blurted out and let out a sneer afterward.

Yvan and Ylmer's head jerked for a bit after hearing him. Lukas then grinned at them, his purple eyes glinting in the dusk.

"Guess we're going home."