(Labratory deep within the island between Sar and Anore.)
(3 months or so have passed since any battles have occurred between the two countries. An uneasy silence remains...)
Fssh...
The glass cylinder filled with a strange liquid opened with a sound similar to steam escaping a pressure cooker. As it opened, the liquid spilled out, along with a body.
Two scientists dressed in white lab coats, the Sar coat of arms stamped onto their chest pockets, grabbed the body before it could hit the ceramic flooring. Their grip was loose due to the body's slippery nature.
"It's... finally ready."
The body was a female's; dark grey, rough skin with light grey hair that fell all the way down to her backside.
Two bony, sharp-tipped, leathery wings wrap around the body, and the thin white membrane acts as a sort of coat.
Two horns sprouted out of her forehead, both grey in color. They curved backward, like the horns of a ram.
"Sir! The tests have all been run. The subject is breathing. It's alive." A scientist stood in front of the two scientists who held the dragon-human hybrid, holding a clipboard, eyes wide open.
The overseer of the operation, the man who was being referred to as 'sir' stepped into the room.
He wore a clean white button-up shirt, with a brown waistcoat, and a larger, darker brown coat that hung over his shoulders. His face bared a stubble beard, his eyes sullen and appearing grey.
An aged man.
All his hair had gone white. Whether it was from aging, stress,
"So this is the king's latest new experiment. This is what he's intending to use to destroy Anore?"
"When you put it like this.... yes, sir." The scientist in front of him spoke. Sarmaer Mistesta towered over the frail scientist in height.
He continued:
"Right now, it's like a clean slate. A baby. I believe the king figured that you would be best suited to train the hybrid, due to your contributions during the Second Demon War. Strange. You're quite old for a human, huh?" the elven scientist laughed.
Seeing the man's serious and indifferent expression, he cleared his throat, noticing the attempt of starting lighthearted conversation did not work.
"That does make sense." he dismissed his question, paying mind to only the first few things he had said.
"As you know, Lord Elouan Nynsta has declared war against Anore. We need you to return to the battlefield, breeding this new monster."
— They're using one monster to train another. Huh. It's too bad. I don't think I could call myself a monster, now that I've left my years of youth.
He sighed, rubbing his chin.
"I understand."
. . .
. .
.
"Old man Sarmaer!"
His wide, muscle-bound back received a heavy slap from an individual behind him. He turned around slowly.
Rosi Unahar had to stand on her tippy toes just touch reach the middle of his back. And, it's not like she was a short person either.
Sarmaer smiled, rubbing the top of her head with his large hand, large enough to palm her entire scalp.
Standing next to her, was a young man around her age, with buzzed black hair and piercing green eyes. There was a single horizontal cut that went through his eyebrow, down his eye, stopping just at his cheek.
He must've closed his eyes while the strike was happening, considering that he kept his eye.
Sharp ears protruded from the sides of his head. He was an elf.
"Wow. Getting one of the three legendary spirit contractors out of retirement is a feat that deserves to be acknowledged."
— They managed to erase most knowledge of that war. That's what I'm known for by most people.
"It's an honor to meet you, sir. I'm Lieutenant General Mamen Colo, of the 14th Batallion." he stuck his hand out.
Sarmaer grabbed his hand, shaking.
"No need to be so formal. I'm only a single rank above you, and I'm not the general that commands you. That would be Rosi, correct?"
Mamen nodded.
The region that they were in was filled to the brim with soldiers.
It was a large, vast grassy field, devoid of any trees. Buildings were sprinkled sparsely around the area, but their were more fences than everything.
Fences that surrounded bare dirt, packed soil that duels and spars were commenced on.
The soldiers were all amped up. Ready to fight.
"The kingdom of talents... looks like they're all awake now."
Mamen sighed, resting his head against his arms.
There were all different types of people.
Some individuals came for just the money. Some came because they wanted a thrill in life. Some came because they felt a certain kind of pride for the kingdom, one that they needed to protect by joining the war.
The days were getting warmer, and snow was no longer prevalent. Instead, brown and orange leaves painted the skies, fluttering and blowing in the wind.
The sun was warm and comforting.
Scattering across the already green grass was an array of different colors from an assortment of different flowers, marigolds, hyacinths, tulips, and violets.
Even during times of war, the biome couldn't help but appear beautiful during this season.
"Hahaha!!!"
A loud irritating laugh bellowed, echoing throughout the already loud enough area. Most people continued with their conversations, but some looked to find where that sound was coming from.
It led to one of the many training grounds. There were a lot of people huddled around the fences, though.
"So much incompetence! The name of Sar is being sullied, being dirtied by you lackluster fools!"
Atop a pile of defeated soldiers, one person sat, laughing loudly and obnoxiously.
His hair was white and short, falling just barely to beneath his ears, though it was longer in the back. His eyes were soft and golden, youthful in nature. A hooked nose, reminiscent of the beak of a bird.
A pair of white feathery wings flapped, as he slowly got off the pile of bodies, and into the air.
"A kid like that... will definitely be a problem on the battlefield."
"So obnoxious."
"He's really annoying."
"He is! But for some reason, I find myself wanting to become stronger than him."
Chatter filled the place.