In the dusty study, a grimy and warped knight stood still as a statue, staring down at a red letter with a half-smiling face pressed into the wax seal. The detestable crest in the wax met his stare, as if taunting him. The rebels were being cute.
'Why of all people would they send a letter to me?' he thought, a puzzled look on his face.
"...Parley, perhaps?" He mused aloud, his question going unanswered. No one was there to help him figure it out.
Wasting little more time, he shakily opened the envelope, careful not to put too much strength in his elongated fingers lest he tear the paper.
"Salutations, Hero.
We hope this letter found you well. Despite our conflicts, we respect you and what you've done in an effort to maintain peace in the world. In fact, before we say anything, we want to say thank you. You've killed many of our people before, but you've unknowingly saved so many more just by protecting the people you have. Honor and glory to you for all the suffering you endured to spare the rest of the world.
But allow us to ask, are you sure what you're doing is right? Is justice being meted out or are you being misled? The depravity of nobility is not something you're a stranger to, has it occurred to you that maybe just maybe, the Royal Family is wrong about us? What exactly have we done that is so detestable, so unforgivable that we must be hunted like dogs? The Royal Family has drawn its fair share of blood and suffering from the world, and you are even to blame for some of it.
Think about it, if you were truly doing good by following their orders, don't you think you'd be beloved? Last we checked however, you aren't.
We know you are a true warrior; you follow the Crimson Path, and you've gone out of your way to see justice done before. Why not do it again? Give us a chance to explain our side of things, peacefully.
Gorum; We of the Order invite you, we beseech you, travel to the top of Leeroy's Mountain and we shall send our emissaries.
Glory and Peace, The Order."
It was a parley request, but it wasn't what he expected. First of all, he hadn't expected a thank you.
It wasn't like he had never heard the words before, but he heard them rather rarely and he especially had never heard them from the enemy. He scoffed, surely this was just a play at his emotions, a cunning attempt to peck at lingering regrets.
But...they may have had a point. The Dulon Dynasty wasn't perfect, he could acknowledge that much. He was forced to think about it now, just a little, and it made his heart ache. It was fully possible there was more to the situation than he originally was told. The Royal family never really gave him all the information; it was pretty typical of them actually. Gorum spent almost all of his time in the military fighting, fighting and fighting some more. He was more akin to a war engine than a knight captain.
Perhaps they knew they couldn't beat him and planned to try and tame him this way instead?
"Enough thinking." he said with finality.
"Might as well hear them out. If I don't like it, I'll just kill them." Gorum huffed as he rose from his hunched over position and soundlessly strode to the door, grabbing his spear on his way out of his desolate abode.
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The Demon King's continent, a craggy and hazardous waste full of danger, powerful monsters and hostile demons. Poisonous bogs of bright red acid, towering mountains with strange and difficult to navigate outcrops. Vast fields of soot and blackrock, lava geysers and heat vents everywhere. Home to the dastardly Demon King and his army of demons, hell bent on destroying all humans, claiming only nonhuman races deserved to live. At least, it used to be that way a few years ago before Gorum had a go.
After the Demon King first announced his slaughter campaign, several countries did a "hero summoning" ritual to bring warriors from another world to either defeat the demon king or to at least protect their lands. Although they were more powerful than the average warrior by a long shot, they were a gamble. Fools who ignored their duty to "live a slow life", lechers who went around engaging in all debauchery they pleased without taking a single thing seriously.
Wingnuts with hearts blacker than black, who committed atrocities unspeakable because to them it was simply "a game". Idiots whose heads were full of flowers, falling in love with whomever they saw and always righteously "saving the day" and screwing things up because their world worked differently in terms of values. Those untrustworthy, halfhearted heroes would always either die in a battle they foolishly started or had no business being a part of and would fade into obscurity even if they survived. Failures who couldn't cut it when a real challenge appeared.
After enough failures, when the Demon Kings Army began to grow too large, the King of Ugdual finally stepped up and sent Gorum to take care of it. At that point, all of the demons who didn't sympathize with their king had already fled to other continents or were executed for treason. So Gorum didn't even need to think. He simply walked to the beach and into the ocean then came out on the other side a few days later. Once he arrived, it was simply a matter of hunting them all down. Within two and a half months, he had meticulously hunted every demon, big and small across the continent before once and for all charging to the Demon King's castle. Breaching the throne room and ending the Demon King's life in a day long battle without letting any sort of dialogue take place. No matter many times the Demon King tried to surrender and beg for his life, his fate was decided the moment Gorum set foot in his castle.
After he was done, news traveled that a single Brave accomplishing in a few months what hundreds of summoned heroes failed to do for ten years. Due to Ugduals show of power, countries soon stopped relying on summoned heroes for much more than anything but defending small towns or cities. The only otherworlders anyone could rely on were those from sub-worlds or people summoned by the gods themselves. But now, those were simply nostalgic times and the current Demon King's continent was in a state of disrepair beyond what it ever was before. All life on the surface was wiped out, even bugs didn't dare come out from the cracks in the ground.
Gorum let out a sigh, already bored of the wasteland scenery as he peered down from the highest mountain top. It took him a few days longer to get there than it would have a year ago, his strength was withering and every new mission reminded him of it.
He glanced aside at the strange statue of a mostly naked woman with a hood over her head, a scale in each hand, a heart with a dagger in it on the right scale and a feather on the left scale. Both arms had a crease at the shoulder where it was clear they could be lifted or lowered.
"A puzzle? The letter didn't say anything about which arm to raise..." Gorum mumbled, impatiently tapping his armored boot on the ground. Gorum was never one for puzzles, he was more so the type to just break whatever contraption was impeding him. However, doing so to this statue probably wasn't a good idea if he was pretending to be on their side.
Fed up with having to think, Gorum arrived at his own special conclusion and simply pushed both arms into a raised position. And then click! Glowing red orbs place in the hooded woman's eyes lit up, casting some sort of communication magic from what Gorum could guess. Complex Magic was never his forte, not that he didn't find it impressive, he just didn't get it in an intellectual way. That was the job of Idalia. Truthfully, Gorum considered her above the other two braves in strength, her magical power comparable to his physical power. Not say he was a slouch when it came to magic either, his spells were much less refined but he had the basic elements mastered for combat purposes and he even had a few spells he made himself.
Gorum heaved a sigh as looked away from the statue and back at the wasteland, unsure of what he was doing. A feeling that was completely foreign to him, someone who never hesitated. Even though this would clearly be considered an infiltration tactic, what if it turned out to be real? What if Gorum truly did harbor negative feelings about the way he was treated. What if these people actually swayed him into betraying his duty?
Although it was true in battle Gorum had unshakeable will and determination, outside of battle Gorum was a simplistic and feeble-minded man with little ability outside combat. Not knowing what to do next besides wait, Gorum stood against a rock and began waiting. His spear gripped tightly in hand incase things went wrong.
....
....
....
As night fell and harsh silence filled the air, Gorum stood at attention; certain that he could hear footsteps. And sure enough, 5 robed figures arrived, three women and two men. All humans. After a synchronized bow the leading woman stepped forward and spoke to Gorum.
"Greetings to you, Master Gorum. We are the emissaries of Omen's Order and shall be your guides to the meeting place." the woman said, speaking in a cold voice, yet polite tone.
"Please follow us and ask any questions you need answered, dearest Gorum..." She said gesturing for Gorum to follow along with the group.
And for a moment he thought 'If I go along with them, I could just be plunging myself into a trap! But...' he wanted to hear it for himself, what their offer really entailed.
And so, off Gorum set with these strange people. Following them across the wastes to whatever awaited him.