Marked Ones: Advent of the Demon Prince

"Lord Lionel, are you ready?" A slender, man in a perfect butler's uniform was bowing deeply to a young man that was currently polishing one of the many swords hung along the walls of his room.

The gentleman in question was lord Kristof Lionel. He was one of the most renowned members of the younger generation of nobility in the kingdom of Docia. As the first seat in the Docia School for Combat, he was a very talented young man.

Kristof's servant was asking him if he was prepared to leave for the Kingdom of Arcadios to participate in their special exhibition this year. Every member nation in the Five Kings Union was participating in this joint exhibition as well as Eroa and Aedrider. The beast nations of Alorek and Raleron as well as the elven nation of Haedda had all chosen to abstain.

"Yes, yes. I am prepared. Shall we head to this nation of forest dwellers?" Kristof said with a sigh.

Arcadios had the largest and most number of forests of any nation and many of their cities and villages looked like specs of civilization popping out from seas of trees. They had a few areas of flat plains and farmland, but most of their land was taken up by trees. Due to this, a richer nation, like Docia, looked down on Arcadios' citizenry for being a country of simplistic huntsmen.

Kristof returned his sword to the wall and left his study. He thought of stopping to say goodbye to his father but remembered that he was in the palace today to have a meeting with the King, who was Kristof's uncle. He would see his father and uncle later in Arcadios anyway as they would also be in attendance as guests.

None of his cousins would be participating in the exhibition, though they were strong fighters like him. They were the ones most likely to inherit the throne, so the palace could not risk their safety by allowing them to participate in this event. His father had told him that some of the other human nations were teetering on whether to attend or not, but ultimately decided to do so.

It would do well for them, politically speaking, to participate in such an event. Many members of nobility across the participating nations needed to show one another that the war had not worn dulled their blades, but sharpened them.

Kristof smiled cruelly, imagining being showered with fame and fortune after he was declared the winner of this event. 'To be honest, calling it a competition is a farce… really it is just the opening event for my inevitable rise in power.' He thought to himself.

*****

In the middle of a stone room, a lone woman was hammering away at a piece of metal. The sounds of her tools banging off her project resounded throughout the room. While under normal circumstances, the echoes created by this would have long made someone either deaf, mad, or both, that was not the case here.

Some of the stones had crystals inlaid into them and these stones put out a constant glow. It was thanks to these stones which had enchantments on them that negated soundwaves within a certain radius of them. Such enchanted crystals were extremely common and were as easy and cheap to purchase as a daily loaf of bread.

As for the woman, she was sweating profusely and wiped her brow with a look of satisfaction. The project she was working on was a dangerous-looking war hammer. She had been working on this weapon for months now to create a special alloy for this piece and wanted to ensure that it layered correctly.

"I think it's ready for the next step." Her excitement was easily seen thanks to a slight wiggle coming from her long, pointed ears.

"Lady Corva?" a voice called out. "Are you finished?"

"Just a bit longer then I will be ready. It is time for the enchantment!" Corva giggled as she bounded over to a different workbench covered in books, parchment, an assortment of magical crystals, and various kinds of strange, runic circles.

Corva was one of a very select few who was born with the Compatibility for Ritual Magic. Elves like her were more likely to be born with the skill over humans and beastmen especially, but it was still uncommon.

Among elves, only a handful for every few thousand people born with any Compatibility at all would be able to use Ritual Magic. This allowed her to use Enchantment Magic and Identification Magic. It wasn't a kind of magic she could usually use on the fly and they needed preparation in the form of runic circles, but it was a rare and lucrative skill set.

It was thanks to this wonderful set of skills that she was able to become the representative for Aedrider in the upcoming Exhibition Tournament in Arcadios. Her professors wanted to show off her skills to other nations as a sort of advertisement for their special crystals and enchanted items. Discover more stories at m,v l'e|m-p| y r

Despite her excellent enchanting abilities, Corva was a little bit of a meathead and excelled in Hammer Arts as well. She planned to showcase her abilities in the best possible way: overwhelming her opponents with sheer power and force. The best way to do that? Bash their faces bloody with a hammer she personally enchanted.

Several hours later, with more sweat pouring off her body, Corva finally sighed in relief. "Finished! Ooooh, it is just like I thought. This alloy I concocted took to the enchantments so well!"

"Might I inquire what it is you imbued the hammer with my lady?" the servant who had been waiting patiently for her charge to finish, asked.

"You may!" Corva shouted excitedly before giving a teasing grin, "But I won't tell you. I can tell you, that I believe this hammer would now classify as a Legendary Class item. Oh, those poor souls won't know what hit them!"

Corva continued to laugh until she passed out from exhaustion right there. She thought she felt herself being dragged along the ground at some point, and she might have heard a handful of unkind comments, but she was much too tired to understand or realize any of it for what it was.

At some point, she realized she was inside of a carriage and in completely different clothes. Corva reached around and felt her hammer leaning against the bench seat she was lying on. Out of reflex she grabbed it and clung to it tightly, falling back asleep with it as if she were cuddling a teddy bear.