"Why did you send us all the way here?" The soldier leaned against the wall of the porter, his hands crossed in front of his chest. "The streets of Xiongdu are still bleeding, and we are being sent to the border?"

His name was Buck, and Zitria had never liked him - anything was bad in his eyes, but honestly, what he said this time had a point.

The rest of the comrades-in-arms stood nearby. It seems that everyone is not very happy about the current predicament.

Zitria was silent. She was the youngest of the Demacian soldiers, but she was no one untrained. In the year she joined the unit, she had proven herself to be a good soldier and a top-notch sword fighter, but there had been many times—like this one—that she felt the situation was out of her power and was nervous.

She wore a full suit of shiny plate armor, as all soldiers were. Her shield was behind her back, her helmet was cucked at her waist, and her long braid of black hair hung down from her shoulders.

Soldiers stood in front of the towering gray gates, guarding the northeastern border of Demacia. The name of the gate is not true, because the entire pass is made of pure white stone. It is generally understood that it takes its name from the nearby gray shale cliffs, but the soldiers stationed here, especially those brought from the south or the coast, complain that the name refers to the eternally gloomy sky to the north.

On both sides of the gate, white stone walls stretch into the distance. The breeze blowing from the mountains lifted pennants one after another, and the sentinels stood on guard in the cold wind and looked to the east.

"We should be sent with the battalion to search the forest for the traitor and his rabble." Another soldier spoke.

"Mage," Buck spat out the words hatefully. "I really want to kill them all."

This conversation unnerved Zetria. She had never fought against magic herself, at least not in her own right, but she grew up with the impression that anyone who used magic was scary and suspicious. Recent news from the capital proves that this fear is warranted.

Just a month ago, the fugitive mage Silas managed to escape from prison, severing Demacia's heart at the same time. The rebel, who had lost his mind and possessed terrifying power, ignited a riot throughout the kingdom, and even now, Xiongdu was still under martial law, with the army patrolling the streets to maintain order.

Zitria agreed, saying they could be of more use elsewhere, but the viciousness in her comrades' words made her uncomfortable.

"If you want me to say, they should all be—" Buck was halfway through his sentence when Zitria suddenly interrupted.

"Attention. The shield chief is back. ”

Gonza, the stocky shield chief, was walking towards them with an agile pace. Two men in hoods sat side by side, one on the left and one on the right.

"Who is with him?"

"I don't know." Zitria said.

The soldiers stood neatly and upright, greeting their commander and two mysterious companions.

"Alright, listen," Gonza said. "You must all want to ask, why did the Protector God line us up so far?"

The shield sergeant's eyes swept over the ranks of the soldiers.

"An envoy from Abermak is about to arrive at the border, and our mission is to escort him safely to the capital."

Escort mission?

Even to Zitria, the task seemed surprisingly mundane. But she and the other soldiers didn't say a word, all staring firmly ahead.

"The security of the envoy is our top priority," Gonza continued. "If the envoy hurts even a hair under our protection, it will be a stain on Demacia's honor. Abermac has always been our ally, and we cannot allow any damage to our friendship. The Motherland expects us to accomplish this mission with honor, grace and goodwill. ”

Gonza's expression was resolute again. "Even if it is contrary to our personal judgment, we must do it resolutely." He added.

The soldiers were well-trained, and the last words did not elicit any noticeable reaction, but Zitria felt uneasy about herself and others. What does this mean?

Gonza motioned to his two faceless companions, who stepped forward and removed their hoods.

Zitria's eyes widened.

The eldest of the two was a middle-aged man with a stern expression, his hair was gray, his eyebrows were deep on his face, and he had several scars. The other was younger, more slender, with a slightly nervous expression, and a strand of black hair hanging down the side of his face.

Both wore half-masks matching their uniforms, and their cloaks were pinned to their shoulders with a dull gray ornamental stone plate.

Zitria let out a sigh of relief, unaware that she was being kept in the dark.

Demon Seeker.

"This is Caston, the senior officer of the Demon Seeker Society, and this is his deputy, Arno." After Gonza finished his introduction, the two demon seekers leaned forward slightly. "They will accompany us in escorting the envoy to the capital."

There was the sound of a horn above the gate tower.

"The horse team is approaching, holding the flag Abermark!" The sentry above shouted.

Captain Gonza nodded to the guards, and the door slowly opened, the hinges groaning under the weight stretched. The iron fence gate was raised, the chains collided, and the huge suspension bridge outside the gate was slowly lowered. With a thunderous thud, the drawbridge hit the ground. The early morning sun streamed through the doorway and into the walls.

"Come with me." Gonza commanded, then marched alongside the two Demon Seekers. Zitria and the other soldiers followed in a consistent pace, trained and trained.

Zitria wasn't sure what she had in mind the envoy should look like, but she never expected it to be the huge, dark-skinned man waiting here. He wears a bearskin coat and holds a heavy wooden cane. When he saw the Demacians go out to greet him, he smiled heartily.

Zitria looked at him warily.

The horse he rode was the tallest Zitria had ever seen in her life, with a shiny black coat and fluffy soft fur over its nailed hooves. He was accompanied by twenty riders, all dressed in chainmail tunics and carrying tomahawks and shields on their backs. One of them carried a large banner with the cross double axe coat of arms of Abermak, and the same coat of arms on the shields of the warriors.

The envoy dismounted and stepped forward to meet Gonza and his attaché, still smiling heartily. His muscular body was more like a soldier, or a blacksmith, and in short, it was completely different from the mage she expected. She had always thought that mages must be treacherous and cunning, preferring trickery rather than physical strength.

He stopped in front of the Demacian crowd, touched his forehead with the palm of his left hand, and reached out to the sky. Zitria quickly gripped the hilt of her sword, thinking he was going to use some kind of arcane apparition, and then suddenly realized that it was presumably a salute in Abermak's custom. She felt her cheeks burn and cursed her stupidity.