I didn't know my name, who my parents were, or where I was born. My oldest memories are from the Imperial Security Corps training facility. I'd been there since I was born, the same as the 4000-ish children born my year. My closest thing to a name was my imperial code, R-EX 1913.
I was training since I could walk, and could wield a dagger on the same level as most Sword Masters at the time. I kept getting better and better, as I was ranked the highest in my class through my teenage years. Soon, I went to the Imperial Special Forces academy, which I ruled over from my first year, then onto the Black ops training camp. After mastering everything they taught, I finally entered the place every imperial soldier dreamed of, The Inquisitorius. I was the only person from my batch in the academy who made it this far, and I'd finished my first 6 scenarios by then. I had just four more before I could ascend to the higher realm the ancestors called Earth.
The Inquisitorius was an elite force that had a very limited number of officers. The true number was a closely guarded secret. But I'd heard rumours of around 6 officers assigned to monitor all of the barbarian land to the north, Runesca. I'd known for a fact that at least a dozen officers were on special missions for the Emperor himself within the confines of the Empire's borders. The Empire stretched from the Gulf of Mexico to the last duchies that existed before the land of the Frost.
The capital, "New City", was where the Inquisitorius HQ was. It was a building that was a carbon copy of every other building that existed here, large metal pillars, covered with glass on all sides. Almost all the signs on the streets were neon hues, reflecting an electric atmosphere on the ground. And I was responsible for the protection of this great nation.
I couldn't reminisce for long before my superior officer, Handler of Light,walked into the room, the automatic steel doors closing behind him.
"Rex, your first mission has been assigned. You are to escort the Baron of the Eastern Runesca Guild to the Imperial Palace. This is of utmost importance, as the imperial audience is expected to end in a merger of jurisdiction. Rumours have been circulating of the Baron growing tired of his men dying on the frontlines against the creatures they call Zenith, and he seems to want to submit to the Emperor."
"This is huge news. the Baron's known to be the most powerful of the four leaders of the Guild bases. The Slayer, King, and the fledgling Commander would follow in his footsteps, we could finally achieve our ancestors' failed mission. Runesca will be ours."
"Your analysis seems good enough, young man. I'm not sure about the Slayer, but the King and the Commander would follow the Baron's footsteps. Anyways, you seem to know this mission's importance. Finish this, and you'll get your title, Rex".
My own title huh, maybe I'd be called the Crimson Knight. Wait, didn't someone already have that title? Maybe they'd call me, the Strongest Inquisitor. As if...
"Yes, sir. I'll make sure not to disappoint you."
I could sense a slight grin behind his shadowy hood. That couldn't be possible, he would be wearing a mask anyway.
____
The Baron was sitting on his throne made of iron. He had just had it made by the best forgemaster in the land, but it had been so uncomfortable. The rubies and emeralds studded on the backrest poked into his thin silk shirt, making leaning back impossible.
He had ordered the world's best cushion rest to be woven out of the best silk and satin and filled with the softest cotton blend they could make. Unfortunately, the throne was constructed before the cushion had been made, and his arse hurt like a bitch, from sitting on this throne. He liked his old chair a lot better.
His eyes were tense. He didn't want a random soldier to be assigned by the empire to escort him, his explorers were more than competent. Nothing he could do, though. He had to wait for that, Conquistador, or whatever to get here.
The doors to his private chambers opened slightly, and he heard someone knock satirically, while entering. The lanky man, with a bookish face and crimson owl's glasses walked in.
"Your Highness, I've gotten word that Arafat has woken up in the North."
"That's good news, Vice-Captain. I'm sure you've heard of my voyage to the empire. You'll be accompanying me, I assume."
Although he didn't show much emotion on his face, the Baron was overjoyed at the twin being alive. He truly cared for every one of his men, he was taught since a young age that it was the only way to truly lead an army.
"Yes, my liege. I shall accompany you into New City, but is a guard-dog from the Empire truly neccesary."
"The Emperor insisted, my friend... I trust you. But it wouldn't hurt to have an extra hand."
"Yes, my liege. Also, we have received word from the Commander from the North. She seems to believe that a couple of tax cuts and trade benefits will leverage out the deaths of our men."
The Baron's face flushed up, he couldn't stop his hands from shaking in anger. The flabs of gluttonous fat, where his abdomen should be, were tearing through themselves. He placed his hand on his overgrown, unkempt beard.
"That sprout, and her indignance. Does she not care about her men, and if she does, how could she not understand the value of one's life? These kids and their black and white way of seeing things. Send her a goddamned message, and tell her. If she ever insults the Baron's dignity, nor the dignity of the dead, I'll consider it a Declaration of War." The Baron's scowl kept getting deeper and deeper every second.
By this point, the vice-captain was terrified, he didn't want to stay in the room any longer.
"I'll send that message over, my liege."
And he quickly walked out, after stomping down at the foundation and bowing to his liege.
___
I had some idea as to where I was. My armour felt heavy, and the sand was getting everywhere. I was riding a horse through the frosty desert, the red moon's reflected light shining down at me.
I was heading Northeast and was almost half the way there. I was able to drive a car for the first 100 kilometers or so. After that, a mix of rushing Zeniths and the roads getting worse and worse made it such that I had to walk. I proceeded to dash till I got to the Southern Guild Base.
I wasn't given an audience with the leader there, the King. But perhaps it was for the best, everyone knew that the child-king was rash and was prone to whims. Especially those that ended in mass executions.
I managed to purchase a horse at the royal stables there and shortly set off for the Eastern Base. Another day of consistent travel, and I'd be in the primary HQ.
The steed wasn't the purest breed, but it did its job well, went a maximum of 120 miles per hour, and could handle the heavy weight of my armour and food reserves.
I opened the imperial map and looked deeply at the spot where it showed my character. It would update every second and show me my exact location. It said I had 1,263 miles left to go till I reached the Eastern guild HQ.
This entire stretch of the journey was the most dangerous part, and probably why the Emperor felt the need to send an Inquisitor to herald the Baron through this travel. The entirety of Central Runesca was an area of conflict. Conflict between the Baron and the Slayer.
Bloodshed, rapes, pillaging, and decapitations were'nt even the worst things that happened. This was a place where if you died by the hands of a Zenith, you were lucky.
The Baron laid claim over the centermost region, and so did the Slayer. The Baron sought to bargain, and the Slayer wanted to take it by force. The Commander and the King had been trying to sort out the dispute for the past 5 years. Yeah, 5 years ago, this place wasn't that bad.
Central Runesca was in fact, the most prosperous part of this barbarian land, and the man who held the peace was the former commander, Sir Heydrich. He was a first generation transporter, and he revolutionised the warring factions.
The king from back then, and commander signed a peace pact, and forcefully brought the Baron and the Slayer under their control. Making the centermost part of Runesca, into a jointly administrated territory.
Once the Commander died, the old king followed him to the pearly gates. And then all hell broke loose, the young granddaughter of the Comannder, Elena, didnt have the balls to negotiate peace with an iron fist. The new King, Richard was too busy striding across town and throwing parties to notice the warzone above his face.
Well, that was a huge exposition dump, and I'd almost made it to a town on the map. This place was called Diaboli. And it even seemed to have good lodging. I should rest here for the night. I looked at my pocket-watch, and it was 8 minutes past 7:30.
I could see the gates of the town and the runic inscriptions on them. I didn't know how, but most of the Zeniths I faced on the way here were all weak, some F rank, and most Unranked. I could rush past them or cut them down, and it wouldn't change my speed of travel.
I had stocked up on a couple of stamina charges. I gulped them down as I strode into the eerily silent town. The gate was left open, and the guardsmen were asleep. They didn't falter, even when my hoof sounds crescendoed near them.
After about a minute of walking, I found a lodge bar, perfect. "Gehenna's Cider and Ham" wasn't a weird name, and it was awfully articulate for a place in the barbarian lands.
___
He tied the horse to the strong pole next to the entrance. He made sure to leave the Imperial crest, visible to everyone, a warning to not touch his ride.
The double doors swung open with barely any pressure. His weighted boots clanked as his feet pressed against the wooden boards. He looked around, a dim yellow lighting, and a fat bartender polishing a huge tankrel.
This place looked straight out of a fantasy novel from back in the imperial library.
A small smile crept across his face. Most people thought Rex was someone who spent every second of his time in the training center. But they didn't know that Rex had the 'Swordsmanship' skill. An A-grade skill that automatically gauged his opponent's skill in swordsmanship and made him move better and with more technique than them. He spent most of his time reading the novels he borrowed from the academy library.
He walked to the counter, and sat on one of the high rise tables. There were no other travellers there. He felt weirdly eerie. He had his energy blade hilt on his hip, but he still felt awfully weak.
"So, what'll the master have?" Piped the overweight barkeep.
"Give me a set of the best food you have, and a jug of ur best yellow elixer."
The man went out, presumably to scream at the cook and get the knight his food. Rex didn't have much alcohol back in the academy. But his best memories were from when he was out drinking.
And what was that weird smell?
___
I could smell something weird. It smelt like a mix of blood and meat. Were the cutting the animal up for my meal just now? That was jarring. Well anyway. I pulled out my blade's unlit hilt. It was the newest model of the energy blade.
The blade itself was red, the standard for most high-level imperial officers and executors. The model was special in its activating method. Instead of just pressing a button, or pulling a switch, which often lead to more accidental injuries than one could fathom- this needed a concious injection of magic energy, while simultaneously pressing a pressure controlled button. As I was admiring my blade's ornate hilt, I heard heavy footsteps.
The large man was back. He was holding a huge jar filled to the brim with yellow nectar.
"Finally." I let out a huge exhale and proceeded to remove my mask. I placed the engraved black and red mask on the table as I grabbed the jug from the counter, and gulped it down. The froth was spilling onto my armour, but I didn't care. Wait, I wasn't this gluttonous. No, I was disciplined. What was happening to me?
A graven voice that didn't seem to belong to the fat man boomed from inside him. "So, do you know what the rune on your mask says?"
What? How did this neanderthal know how to read runes? This was an ability reserved for the highest class of aristocracy and the emperor's private bloc of intellectuals.
He saw my confused face and continued.
"It says, 'The one who desires all, and conquers all that he desires'."
"So what is it? What do you truly desire?"
[The deity, "Merchant of Mirrors", is staring at you.]