“They mistook my mercy for weakness.
Now, I have decided, I would never let my old enemies enter new wars.”
***
Once, there was a massive super continent known as Euphora.
A continent of vast landscapes, unpredictable weather and incredible Islands.
People lived merrily for centuries.
It was called Paradise.
On a destined day, a broken crown fell down from the skies, scattering it’s parts all across Euphora.
The crown which decided the fate of the World, is now broken.
With that, the Devil rose.
The Organization known as the Phantom Troupe took over the World quickly, toppling all the Governments it could.
Nevertheless, some strong rebellious forces still rivaled them, such as the Revolutionary Army, not letting them take over the world.
The Troupe proceeded to get stronger as the days flew by, recruiting the stronger nations while betraying the weaker ones.
However, the Fate of the World was about to be flipped over once again, this time because of a Sheriff of the village, Emerald Ranch.
***
Every great saga usually begins with a sunrise.
Ours begins in the Twilight.
The sun was already halfway buried beneath the dunes, bleeding crimson across the desert sands.
Red light stretched endlessly across the outskirts of Emerald Ranch, painting the entire wasteland like something dying slowly.
Right in the middle of all that beauty… two idiots were dragging my unconscious body through the sand like they were hauling a dead buffalo.
“With your legs, dumbass!” muttered one of the idiots, dragging me even harder.
“I AM using my legs!” cried another.
As you can see, it really isn’t good teamwork.
Idiots made me feel like I was fat.
However, with their incredible strength they finally managed to reach the warehouse.
As the guard opened the gate, rusty metal door screeched loud enough to hurt my ears.
“Shit!” the smell hit me first.
Even though I didn’t assume it’d be as cool as it is inside, I definitely underestimated the smell.
It was sickening.
Dead rats…
Old blood…
Alcohol and …Terrible life decisions.
I already wanted to leave.
They dragged me somewhere near a table, and then threw me face-first onto the cold concrete floor.
Hard.
The kind of hard where your ancestors feel it too.
“Boss!” one of them shouted proudly.
“This is the guy who beat up the men we sent to Emerald Ranch!
We picked him up while he was sleeping!”
“He he!!
Bastard left his door open!” another one snickered.
I couldn’t fathom this stupidity.
Who would sleep with their door open?
Poor fellows.
Still couldn’t realize tha it was a trap.
My name is Nathan Silverstone.
Twenty-seven years old.
Sheriff of the humble abodes, Emerald Ranch and Sandalwood Valley.
And currently tied up like discounted livestock.
My wrists and ankles were bound behind my back with some not-so-sturdy ropes.
These idiots even wrapped around my own poncho around my eyes.
It was a see-through poncho.
Genius, isn’t it?
The real reason I came here, was to get my hands on that bastard…
The Boss of these idiots.
Carlos Vargas.
Warlord of the Phantom Troupe
And a complete lunatic.
This bastard was sitting on the throne of the Middle-Eastern’s Drug Empire.
Carlos was the kind of man who’d cut your fingers off because he woke up annoyed.
He wasn’t reasonable in any way.
Through the so called blindfold over my face, I spotted him sitting at a table, leaning all the way back, puffing out cigarette smoke.
He wore a white floral shirt, blood stains his cuffs.
A butcher knife spinning slowly between his fingers.
Across from him sat another man clutching his own hand, his eyes full of tears.
Carlos slowly grazing his fingers with a butcher’s knife.
Enrico Vargas.
That’s his name of the poor guy crying.
Enrico is Carlos’ cousin.
Enrico was the kinda guy who’d accidentally confess to murder during casual conversation.
He probably doesn’t meddle much with Carlos’ business, but sure was his Right-Hand man.
Even I am confused, why is Carlos is grazing his cousin’s hand with a knife till his fingers fell off.
Something must’ve happened, but it’s definitely not a good thing.
Carlos finally stood up from that poor chair.
The wind stopped blowing.
The warehouse fell quiet too.
Carlos walked in my direction.
Well…
he looked furious.
I could sense his bloodlust.
His hand buried itself into my hair and yanked my head upward.
“Owwww!!” That sure hurts.
But on the outiside, I still pretendend unconcious.
But more importantly, I swear to God if this bastard got blood on my hair…
“Look at this, even this nobody piece of shit keeps getting in my way.” Carlos sneered near my ear, looking at Enrico.
Bastard didn’t look at my face, but even if he did, he probably wouldn’t recognize me.
He was high.
Reeked of drugs and alcohol.
Why do psychopaths always whisper dramatically?
Anyway… He let go of my head and I dropped back onto the floor.
“Hehh hehh- hic!!
You think I’m going to take this-hic unpunished?” Carlos chuckled.
Bastard was drunk as a duck.
He limped back to the table again.
Across the table, Enrico’s eyes were overflowing tears.
He gasped for air as he cried.
“I have a solution.” Carlos said softly, and then started humming.
Carlos placed a hand on Enrico’s shoulder gently.
Almost lovingly.
“Tell me something, cousin… Why’d you try to kill me?” he asked calmly.
Enrico nearly collapsed.
“I-I didn’t—”
“You entered my room with a gun.”
“I can explain—”
“What did I do wrong?
…
Hm?
I treated you like family.” Carlos asked.
“Please… please don’t kill me… my daughter… she’ll be alone…”Enrico started crying harder.
“Tsk tsk tsk…” Carlos whispered.
“Don’t cry.
Just tell the truth and everything ends peacefully.”
Enrico took a shaking breath.
“Marcus manipulated me,” he blurted out.
“I didn’t want to do it!
He promised my daughter a better life!
I swear I didn’t want to kill you!”
Marcus.
Or as we called him…
Marco.
Chief of Emerald Ranch.
My friend.
Now things were making sense.
Drug deals had exploded across the region lately.
Maybe that’s why Marco manipulated this poor guy to kill Carlos.
Behind Carlos, Tuco suddenly stepped forward.
Tuco.
Carlos’ Left-hand partner in crime.
Unlike Enrico, bastard has a lot of blood on his hands.
Tuco sneered at Enrico, “If you didn’t want to do it-”
Carlos raised his hand up.
To his gesture, the entire warehouse fell quiet.
His smile disappeared.
Carlos’s eyes widened.
Enrico froze.
“WHY?!”
“Aaghhhh!!!” Enrico screamed, as Carlos began striking his knife down on his head.
“YOU TRAITOROUS PIECE OF SHIT!
I TREATED YOU LIKE MY BROTHER!
DIE!
DIE!
DIE!”
Blood sprayed across the table.
Across the walls.
Across Carlos himself.
By the time Carlos stopped, Enrico’s head barely looked human anymore.
Carlos stood there panting quietly.
Covered in blood.
“Boss, it’s time for the rendezvous.” Tuco apprised Carlos.
“We got word that Sir Julian is coming.” he said again after a pause.
Julian?
New guy.
Interesting.
So even Carlos answered to somebody higher.
“Do whatever you want with that man..
Just don’t kill him.” Carlos muttered, pointing toward me.
Then he leaned toward Tuco and whispered:
“Emerald Ranch has become annoying.
Kill the Chief.”
Tuco nodded nervously.
“And hang this man outside the Chief’s office.”
Carlos glanced toward me one last time.
“That,” he smiled, “will be our Declaration of War.”
Carlos walked out of the warehouse, with some of men, putting Tuco in charge.
Tuco strolled towards Enrico’s corpse,”Shouldn’t have been greedy cow you bastard.” he spat on Enrico’s corpse.
Honestly though, my situation looked pretty manageable now with Carlos gone.
And these idiots still hadn’t noticed the revolver hidden in my holster.
“And you…” he snarled.
“Who the hell are you supposed to be?”
How rude!
Unfortunately for him, I didn’t plan to come here to just watch this shit.
With a swift motion, I kicked upward and stood.
The ropes were supposed to be sturdy, but these idiots didn’t know how to tie a proper sheepshank.
One good flex of my wrists, and the knot slipped right off.
I whistled loud…
A massive chestnut horse charged inside like a cannonball wrapped in muscle.
That’s my girl.
Her name’s Shadow.
Beautiful horse.
Beautiful hair.
Clearly, we both had standards.
Shadow stormed through the warehouse kicking and biting every idiot unlucky enough to stand nearby before skidding to a stop beside me.
Tuco stared in complete disbelief, and then reached for his gun.
I yanked my revolver out of the holster and flung it at Tuco.
It smashed against his forehead with a dull crack before ricocheting through the air.
Somehow, the damn thing landed right back in my palm.
Shadow got excited after that.
Too excited.
She kicked Tuco directly in the face.
Then the ribs.
Then dangerously close to ending his bloodline permanently.
“SHADOW-” I tried to stop her…
Too late.
Tuco collapsed screaming.
“Sorry buddy,” I sighed.
“Hope you already had kids.”
Meanwhile I walked calmly toward a nearby water barrel.
I pulled the poncho off my face and washed the dirt and blood from my face and hair.
Because priorities matter.
Behind me, Shadow was absolutely dismantling people.
Honestly?
Didn’t even look fair anymore.
Then Tuco screamed from somewhere behind the chaos:
“WHO ARE YOU?!”
I sighed, as I turned around dramatically.
“Sheriff!!!” All of their voices echoed in the warehouse.
So, they did recognize faces after all.
Nathan Silverstone.
Back from leave and apparently walking straight into a war.
One idiot came at my face with a knife.
Another rushed low with a rusted sword aimed straight for my stomach.
And somewhere behind me, a third guy screamed loud enough to convince himself he was dangerous.
You know something …
Confidence is beautiful.
Right before it gets people killed.
Now usually this is the part where heroes do something impressive.
A spin.
A punch.
Some dramatic nonsense with slow motion.
Me?
I sat down.
That’s it.
Just calmly sat on the floor.
The sword meant for my stomach went straight through the screaming idiot behind me instead.
The guy with the knife barely had time to realize what happened before the dying swordsman jerked backward and opened his throat by accident.
Blood sprayed across the air in one ugly splash.
Then the knife guy stumbled sideways—
—and his own blade buried itself into the third idiot’s shoulder on the way down.
Three bodies hit the floor almost together.
THUD.
The whole warehouse went quiet for half a second.
I stayed seated there between the corpses.
“…Wow,” I muttered.
“You people somehow fight worse than you smell.”
At this point, half the warehouse looked ready to flee.
The other half looked too stupid to realize they should.
Little did I know, that the first spark I ignited today, would be the reason to destroy our lives for the coming future.
Hey!