Ha-joon—soon to be *Ha-joon van Honig*—had achieved more in his thirty-five years than most men born with far greater means. He had entered this world a peasant, nameless among countless others, and like many of his station, he was handed a spear before he ever held a pen. At twenty, the conscription papers came for him, and he was hurled into the frontlines against the Twisted—those malformed horrors that stalked the frontier like nightmares given flesh.
Two months. That was how long it took for his entire cohort to vanish, swallowed by the meat-grinder. Ha-joon alone had crawled out of that crucible breathing. Not because of training—he'd had precious little—but because of something harder, more bitter: grit sharpened by desperation, and a refusal to die quietly.
Like many untrained conscripts who lacked the finesse of noble swordsmen or schooled mages, he'd turned to the *Bonding*—that ancient, brutal rite of survival. His first visit to the shamans of the Great Unison had been in agony, begging for the return of what the battlefield had stolen. A new arm, he'd asked for. A replacement leg. The parts he'd lost had come back not as human flesh, but as dits and pieces of slain foes. Over the next five years of service, Ha-joon would lose and replace more of his body than any other man he knew.
And yet he lived. He fought. He *excelled*.
His unnatural compatibility with the Bonding did not go unnoticed. The god of the sun, Mars'lio, had marked him—graced him with a divine boon. His limbs, once fused, could now be summoned and dismissed at will, as though they were mere extensions of thought rather than flesh. This alone would have been enough to earn him legend in the barracks. But fate was not finished with Ha-joon.
The Lord of Sarus Fortress had taken an interest in him personally.
By that Lord's decree, Ha-joon had been granted two ruby ten-pointed stars—a sigil of extraordinary distinction, denoting a warrior worth a hundred soldiers. For a man born nameless, it was a rebirth. The nobility began to pay attention. And when the esteemed House Honig extended the offer of marriage to their third daughter, it sealed the path forward. Soon, he would stand not just as a veteran, but as *Ha-joon van Honig*, bonded not only by grafted limbs but by bloodline and legacy.
The wedding would follow the completion of a sacred duty: the delivery of this season's tithe to Sarus Fortress.
Ha-joon now stood on the bridge of the *Wespe*, a vessel nearly a mile in length, its vast, honeycomb hull suspended in the sky by the miracle wax secreted by House Honig's legendary *Heirloom*. The ship hummed with the quiet gravity of power, and the air beneath his yellow hood was heavy with the scent of wax, ozone, and destiny.
'Speaking of the tithe…' Ha-joon's eyes narrowed as he leaned on the railing, wind tugging at his cloak. 'This year's haul is… unusual.'
He considered the names already listed. Two potential candidates stood out: one, a Salt Mage—rarer than most would believe. The other, an otherworlder, reportedly blessed. Both had shown hints of power great enough to qualify for the one-star brand.
It would be *his* duty to decide whether they were truly worthy.
*skip*
The crew of the *Wespe* were in high spirits, their laughter rolling across the deck like wind over open sails. Sailor's Knot, an isolated little village tucked away on a sunburn island, had outdone itself this year. Their tithe was not just generous, it was refined. Pure metal ingots, already processed and gleaming like a merchant's dream, were stacked in crates with careful reverence. Such offerings were more valuable than raw ore and less likely to attract corruption during the journey to Sarus Fortress.
The bundles of *Gaus* ,would go toward restocking the ship's supplies, oils, and weapons . The crates of old Imperial glass, clear as frozen tears, and the neatly bound books written in old imperial would fetch a fine price in the academies or private collections of nobles, especially those who paid dearly for forgotten knowledge and displayable antiquity.
It was more than enough. The tithe, in practical terms, was fulfilled—and then some. The villagers would keep their harvests this time, and their livestock would remain in their pens. Only the conscripts would be taken, as was tradition.
But Ha-joon's attention was not on the ingots or books. His mind lingered on something else—something the old crow of Sailor's Knot had mentioned in her message. *Terran oddities.*
Most of the Archipelago had only seen a handful of Terran artifacts in their lifetimes—precious little trinkets from a world beyond the reach of mortals . The metal and books brought from Terra were valued well enough—though the tithe council didn't count them highly—but the real prizes were the small, strange, and often entirely useless knick-knacks. And those were *only* sold in auctions, where nobles bled each other dry for novelty.
And now, Ha-joon stood before one such curiosity. A pale Terran youth, muscular,tall , sharp-jawed, and perpetually disinterested , stood on the deck of the *Wespe* with a half-full duffel bag of treasures slung over one shoulder. His name was Jack Uhrmacher , and from the look of his sullen, hollow-eyed expression, he didn't yet understand how valuable he was.
Ha-joon leaned in, peering over the open bag with a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. plastic cylinders and tubes with printed warning labels, old lighters, tightly sealed paper boxes filled with strange sticks. All of them had a scent he recognized from his years smoking *purple lilys*. But this… this was no lily.
"*Tobacco,* is it?" Ha-joon mused, lifting a box and turning it over in his hand. "Or maybe even refined *nicotine*. I'll have to see if the alchemists can test it."
Jack crossed his arms and raised a brow. "So what's it worth, then? Don't play coy. I know you people value this crap."
The tone was grating—too casual, too direct. Ha-joon's eyes flicked up. In any other context, the boy would've been backhanded for that. But he wasn't from the archipelago. He didn't know. *Not yet.*
Ha-joon let it slide, for now. "Luxury goods from Terra aren't something we buy with standard rates. Normally they go to auction—rich nobles love pretending they understand Terran culture." He let the box slip back into the bag, voice calm. "But I'm feeling generous. I'll offer you ten million Gaus now. And once we reach Sarus Fortress, another ten—provided the bidding's strong."
Jack's eyes widened just a little. "Twenty million?"
"You'll have it in two payments. Ten now. Ten later, once we make landfall and finalize the auction contracts."
Jack hesitated, jaw tight. "And how do I know you're not gonna take this shit, and fuck right off?"
Ha-joon chuckled. "Because if I wanted to rob you, I wouldn't be *negotiating* with you on the bridge of a House Honig ship. I'd be dragging your body out of the bilge and wiping your blood off my boots."
Jack went still for a moment. Then he exhaled and shrugged, half a smirk forming on his lips. "Fair point."
The air between them lightened just a touch.
"You'll need to sign a consignment ledger," Ha-joon added, tone brisk now. "And once that's done, I'll see about getting you a ration card of second class, with it you can have access to most things. You'll not travel with the rest of the conscripts, but in the first Star wing instead ."
Jack slung the bag off his shoulder and dropped it at Ha-joon's feet. "Deal."
As the veteran bent to inspect the contents more thoroughly, the breeze off the waxbound sails stirred his cloak. Ha-joon didn't glance up, but his voice was firm.
"And next time you speak to an officer, *try* to remember the chain of command. You'll find we're a polite people… right up until we're not."
Jack gave a lazy nod, just enough to show he understood. Maybe he was actually learning. Maybe.
Either way, the *Wespe* had a new conscript aboard—and Ha-joon had a new profit to make.
Then as if remembering something the boy asked," I was like told that someone would explain some stuff to me here?"
Ha-joon nodded at that and handed the young man a small waxed paper.
"This should hold the necessary information in a language that you should be able to comprehend. Please return it to one of the black boxes around the ship after you are done."
*skip*
Jack hoped onto his bed in his room, the flying ship had been gigantic so it didn't surprise him that he had a room the size of an apartment , it even had five beds!
He would have to commission his equipment tomorrow morning so that gave him time to read the paper that old man had given him. It was strangely waxy and yellowed.
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**Welcome to the Sarus Fortress Conscription Corps**
**Issued to: Literate Conscripts of the Sarus Campaign**
**Classification: Basic Orientation Document**
**Distribution: Upon Arrival**
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**To Whom It May Concern,**
If you are reading this, you have been conscripted into service at Sarus Fortress. This document is designed to provide a foundational understanding of military structure, field operations, and the various phenomena you may encounter in your duties.
Please familiarise yourself with its contents. Survival depends not only on strength, but comprehension.
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**Structure and Deployment**
**Unit Formation**
You will be assigned to a **squad of five**, led by a designated **squad leader**. How your team equips itself is up to you—gear and supplies are to be procured using **Gaus**, earned through missions or approved work.
**Mission Command**
All assignments, logistical support, and mission directives are issued through the **fortress's logistical relay system**. Orders are final. Delays, disputes, or disobedience will not be tolerated.
**Cooperation**
Combat against the **Twisted** requires flexibility and discipline. While individual initiative is valued, **cooperation between squads is mandatory**. Any act of violence or sabotage against a fellow soldier will result in disciplinary action, execution not excluded.
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**The Enemy: The Twisted**
The creatures you will be facing are known as the **Twisted**—undead,soulless beings whose form and abilities vary wildly. They lack consistent behaviour or structure, making rigid tactics ineffective. **Adaptability and quick thinking** are paramount.
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**Authority & The Star System**
All personnel are ranked within the **Star System**, which determines both **status and authority**.
* A **Ten-Star** individual is the equivalent of **ten Starless soldiers**.
* A **Two-Star** outranks ten **One-Stars**, and so on.
Between Star Soldiers the type of gem indicates different roles.
No gem is an average of this category.
A ruby (red) indicates a squad leader or a lone operator.
A emerald (green ) indicates a non combat specialist, like a healer or builder.
A amethyst (purple) indicates an elite among elites, their experience and skill can turn the tide of any battle.
**Star Soldiers** are elite operatives tasked with high-priority objectives. Their orders are to be followed without delay. Disobedience to a higher Star may result in reassignment, punishment, or death.
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**Lexicon of Accuh and Associated Phenomena**
**Accuh**
Accuh is built up through out once life in small quantities and reflects once experience.
It can appear as a residual essence released upon the death of a being. Appears as a pinkish-purple vapour. It contains fragments of physical strength, knowledge, skills, and magical power.
*Example: A farmer's Accuh may grant minor strength or manual dexterity.*
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**Digestion of Accuh**
Accuh must be absorbed and **properly digested** by the mind and body. Failure to do so may cause nausea, madness, seizures, or worse.
*Example: A soldier who absorbs Accuh in haste may suffer migraines or hallucinations as the body can not handle the acquired ability.*
It is recommended to absorb Accuh in a mentally and physically optimal condition and not engage in straining activity for two days.
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**Blessing of Muh'dus**
A divine favour from **Muh'dus**, the scattered god of growth and division, that is of great interest for the Sarus fortress as those blessed may instantly digest and **redistribute Accuh** as they see fit.
*Example: A soldier may turn a scholar's knowledge into increased agility or stamina.*
If you or someone you know has this blessing please report to a two star as soon as possible.
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**Legacy Crystals**
Rare crystals formed from potent Accuh. Contain specific abilities of their former owners. Absorption without preparation is highly dangerous.
*Example: A crystal may grant the user the ability to conjure golems.*
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**Heirlooms**
Inherited items or traits imbued with ancestral Accuh. These may take the form of enchanted weapons, bloodline talents, or magical resilience.
*Example: A noble's sword may grant heightened skill due to generations of use.*
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**The Bonding**
A sacred rite practiced by followers of the **Great Unison**, in which a deceased creature's body part is affixed to a living conscript. If successful, grants strength or durability. If not, death or mutation may follow.
*Example: A bonded claw may allow for greater grip and slashing attacks.*
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**Blessings**
Random gifts from the divine. Effects are unpredictable. Can range from minor boons to catastrophic shifts in fate.
*Example: A blessing may grant night vision, plant empathy, or spontaneous fire conjuration.*
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**Spirits**
Intangible entities formed from ritual, repetition, or disaster. Spirits rarely communicate with mortals but may influence events or objects.
*Example: A weapon used in thousands of battles may harbour a warrior-spirit.*
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**Magic**
The art of concentrating accumulated Accuh into a singular expression of will, often breaching the boundary of the material world and the spirit realm. This alters reality—temporarily.
*Example: A blacksmith may bend metal by will alone if suffused with smithing Accuh.*
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**Final Notes for Conscript Conduct**
* Do not tamper with Star-level orders.
* Always check for Accuh residue before moving a body.
* When in doubt, trust your squad and *keep moving*.
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**The lord of Sarus Fortress**
*For the survival of the living. For the silence of the dead.*
As Jack finished reading this stupid thing his head ached and he decided to just sleep for now and find out what the stuff he didn't understand was later.