So this is a domain…
Kreig didn't hide his surprise—even if he did, his face would've betrayed him as it warped in fascination.
What greeted the group was the blue, reigning sky. The sun was hidden behind the clouds, but pierced shallowly casting down warm rays of light.
The fresh scent of air, different from the all- familiar alley he'd grew paled in comparison. Each breath carressed his soul as if a breeze of medicine.
The thick scent of steel and sweat from the units inside the domain assaulted his senses. Huge towering walls encircling like a dome, with battlements in each corner that didn't lack units as they position themselves, chattering without an ounce of worry showed in their face.
"Are they really in a war right now...?" Kreig's eyes flickered as he silently observed Abel's domain in admiration.
Lord Abel didn't lack units, in fact, the population on his domain easily surpasses thousands.
Kreig's eyes narrowed in silent calculation, the vast expanse shocked him. He couldn't help but admire the lords once more, unbeknownst to him was, a burning ambition has started flaring in the depths of his soul.
Not far from where they were teleported to was the smithery, standing tall just around the corner, with smoke gushing out of its roof. The hospital where the wounded and diseased are located beneath a humongous building with a sign saying,
"Trade Hub".
Just from these things, one can imagine the terror of Abel's name. His city had, if not fully, at least majorly replicated those buildings of the world.
So why hire mercenaries…?
The thought passed Kreig's mind. Should it escaped his lips, he might have gathered some unnecessary attention.
'It kinda bothers me why they want to hire mercenaries despite the amount of power he have in his arsenal. Is the enemy inside the abyss that strong...?'
His thoughts were not baseless. Abel's troops didn't show an ounce of worry despite the impending war that awaits them.
'The vast expanse seemed to stretch infinitely, so did his thoughts... Clouds hovering over the endless sky, I would've called it beautiful, if only it not reflected so eerily.'
Huff… Huff…
'Shit...'
As he had expected, he couldn't handle the teleportation very well.
Daren briefly explained it, a sickness associated with teleportation, something they referred to as: Motion Sickness.
He even overheard some among the crowd talking about it, and although he'd braced himself for it, he still couldn't bear with it
It was nothing fatal, but enough to cause weakness, especially for those first-time teleporters.
'Only I and some of the cleaners' expressions turned grim.
Funnily, even the two I've followed felt sick on them. '
He thought.
The mercenaries laughed on some who vomited, they chucked and joked, quickly forming groups.
'I guess it's not surprising for them to see such expressions like the one I did… my body is trembling, eerily so, luckily not much to gather attention on me.'
I'd better move to where the cleaners are before I get crushed here.
The combatants have already formed into five groups, many knew each other, while some had enmity between them for their eyes avoided with hint of disdain.
The noise grew stronger, with some laughing at those experiencing sickness. It was as if there was no impending war ahead.
Is it because of their experience…?
Everything happened in the blink of an eye.
We were just in the guild and then—Bam!
Daren merely crushed a stone, then suddenly, we are here amidst the Domain of Lord Abel.
Was I conscious when it happened?
Kreig couldn't help but ponder. He lost his senses, and couldn't seem to remember what happened or how exactly did he teleported.
Daren said that the name of the Domain was Abel.
Land of Abel.
I honestly felt fascinated; I thought it was a name chosen without thought.
The residents inside the domain are various creatures, the humans being the most dominant population.
I guess it's a given because Representative Daren said that Lord Abel is of our species.
Then…
SHOOK.
The ground shook, and all of the watchful eyes turned to the stage.
There were knights. With crests proudly placed on their shoulder, swords at their waists, some wielding spears. Daren was also on the stage, contrary to those knights; he wore a dark corset and glasses, beside him, I assumed, was Lord Abel.
His eyes were hazel, reflecting the warmth that the sun didn't illuminate. The green robe he wore fluttered with the wind, like a masterpiece resonating that swept the ground. He was undeniably beautiful.
But more than that, he's strong.
His eyes tell the tale of his power, aloof yet domineering.
Swoosh.
At once, the noise halted.
A mere gaze silenced the group.
Only now did I realize why the territory had been named Abel.
It was power, a symbol of authority.
"My lord, the mercenaries we've hired are here. The total combatants are 275, the rest cleaners." Said Daren.
"Hmmm. Not bad. Have you explained the situation?" Lord Abel replied aloofly.
"Yes, My Lord," replied Daren, then his gaze turned to us, eyes grim, he pointed his fingers at five individuals, "You, you, you, you, and you—all of you will lead the group of 54 people."
The five individuals were astounded.
The group is composed of four boys and a girl. All of them are tailored mercenaries, with plenty of experience with war and strength to easily dominate weak lords.
"State thy name," said the lord.
The girl was the first one to take a step; her eyes were shining, with pointed ears and greenish hair that was too long to be unnoticed.
an elf, I thought.
"Seris Elune, Archer."
After her were the rest.
"Kael Voss, Berserker."
He was the one who tried to extort Daren…
"Damon Rhyl, Wizard."
A robe shining like stars…
"Lioren Maddox, Assassin."
So young… but I guess that age is but a number… an assassin…
"Thorne Galueric, Warrior."
His body is huge… Is he a human…?
Their introduction was brief, so short yet so powerful.
I quietly observed their persona while I stood where the majority of the cleaners are situated. Many were middle-aged, with average bodies, but a body surely honed more than mine. They are all astounding.
As for the combatants, only a few were noticeably outstanding; other than those who were called, the rest looked very average.
"I see." The one who spoke was one of the chosen, his voice was low yet so loud as if carried by the winds. It was Thorne, the warrior. "But how should we divide? What of them?" His eye turned to us, some trembled, even I felt conflicted.
"They will be put to good use." Lord Abel said, his lips turning wicked.
Then...
"M-me?"