The Last Primal

"Stop! What business do you have here woman! Know your place!" 

A rough, cold shout filled with arrogance and contempt reverberated in the grassy hilltop. A rather tall woman, dressed in the empire's dark red armor was blocked entry as two lion-headed lances were crossed in front of her. In her hands, she was holding a stained-yellow rolled-up parchment.

The woman frowned upon being subjected to such treatment, her neatly folded long black hair swayed as she shook her head with displeasure written all over her supple face. She clicked her tongue, giving a voice to her rising anger. 

"Step aside soldier! How dare you speak to your superior in that way! One more flinch on your stupid, disgusting face and I will have you court marshaled for treason against his Majesty, the Prince!" She yelled.

However, the soldier didn't seem to take the matter seriously. His face contorting, he was about to unleash and yell, when suddenly, seemingly out of thin air, a rather thin arm appeared from behind, holding the edge of a dagger against his throat.

"Now, now. Even if you are assigned to guard duty as being one of the elites, you should still show respect to your superiors." The man that appeared behind him spoke in an eerie tone.

This thin, tall, and lanky man had short curly black hair and an unshaven, rough-looking face. He was Syf, the captain of the empire's probably currently most important battalion, the scouts, the spies, the force responsible for information gathering.

Seeing one of the six captains appear and come to her aid, the lieutenant bowed respectfully. 

"Lieutenant Sievul reporting in! Captain Syf, the scouts have returned and brought back the report. I need to give it to General Dorian!" She reported in a respectful tone, her posture remaining subservient, she kept her gaze plastered on the grass beneath her military boots.

"I know." Syf nodded, a small smirk appearing on his face. "I have been informed already… well, alright, I'll let you take this one." He nodded, stepping to the side and relieving the scared and stunned guard of the immediate threat to his life. In response, the knees of the threatened guard gave in and buckled under the pressure. He fell down on his knees, sweating and panting heavily.

He was in shock, there was no trace of his previous arrogance and pride any longer, only sheer terror could be seen in his eyes as he trembled, not daring to look back at his almost-assassin.

The woman, Lieutenant Sievul ignored the men completely, the previously cold, emotionless look returned to her face as she stepped away and with large strides marched towards the central, commanding tent.

Watching the receding back of the Lieutenant, Captain Syf smiled at her. Turning his gaze away, he looked at the vast plains stretching out below them. On the horizon, the walls of a city could be seen.

"The fun's about to begin… I wonder what will they do, how will those so-called leaders react… Most importantly… I wonder, how will SHE react…" He muttered, the smirk never leaving his face.

…

Standing in front of the largest tent of all, Lieutenant Sievul took a moment to catch her breath and collect her thoughts. Feeling her rapidly thumping heart, she needed a few extra seconds before she could cough loudly and ask for entry.

"General Dorian, I apologize for the interruption!" She exclaimed loudly in a paced tone, giving an extra instant before continuing. "I came bearing reports from the scouts!"

For a moment, there was no response to her words, she was met with tense silence. 

Just as she was about to speak up again, a grunt came from inside, followed by a curt response from a deep bear-like voice.

"Step inside."

"Y-yes, General." Lieutenant Sievul muttered, finding herself losing her composure just from a brief grunt from the leader.  Following that he pushed the carpet that was hung, serving as a makeshift 'door', and stepped into the dimly lit command center.

Standing at the center of the room, behind a wooden desk, looming over a hand-drawn map of the region they were currently in, an imposing man of some age stood. He looked somewhere close to his forties, or most likely in his later thirties. He had a short mess of matte black hair, his face was clean-shaven, only leaving a short stub of a mustache hanging above his lips, serving as a bridge between her lips and her nostrils.

Without looking away from the hand-drawn map, his gruff, deep voice greeted the woman as soon as she stepped inside.

"What is it, Lieutenant? As you can see, I am quite busy."

"Sir!" The woman shook, looking timid in front of the mighty presence of this towering, robust man. She extended her hands holding the rolled-up parchment, presenting it to the General. "Lord Syf's scouts have returned with the latest updates." 

"Uhm." The man grunted, busying himself with a black feather quill. Dipping its sharp tip into a small bottle of ink, he began to draw on the map. Rectangles were drawn in rapid succession, planned placements, strategies he was devising for the upcoming campaign.

Noticing that the woman stood still, not reacting, the man grunted again, uttering coldly.

"Speak, woman. What is in the report?"

"Sir… Y-yes Sir!" The woman hurriedly nodded, stuttering as she spoke. Inhaling a large gasp of air, she puffed her already generous-looking bosom, before exhaling loudly. Only by repeating it two more times, did she muster the courage to speak and calm her screaming nerves.

"The enemy still seems oblivious to us,. Sir! They have not stationed any additional guards, nor could we see increased patrols. The city seems calm and silent." She reported, her tone turning frowning at the end.

This change of speech didn't escape the general's ears. Still keeping his attention and most of his focus on the drawing of the battle map, he asked.

"What are your thoughts, Lieutenant. You are free to speak."

Lieutenant Sievul was surprised for a moment about the general's request. Still, she gathered all her willpower and gulped loudly before deciding to speak.

"Uhm… S-sir, I find it strange, sir."

"Why so, Lieutenant? Please elaborate." The general spoke, a small imperceptible smile curving his lips.

  "The city is too calm, that… at this point seems rather suspicious. Although the City Guards may very well be too lax to properly attend their duties, the Academy's mages and the Adventurer's Guild should have already noticed our presence. The lack of reaction is, just as the scouts have reported, seems rather strange."

She coughed, before adding another line of thought, her conjecture of the matter.

"I believe they are preparing something. We should be ready for anything, sir!"

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It's an urban modern-day styled story, with a reverse transmigrated ('Banished') immortal entity from the fantastical world of Nova!

Planned Tags and Genre:  # CULTIVATION  # R18  # BETRAYAL  # TRANSMIGRATION  # URBAN  # ACTION  # ANTIHERO  # OVERPOWERED (romance maybe at some later point)

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