Forest Orphanage
Night settled gently over the forest orphanage, wrapping the wooden building in a blanket of quiet warmth. Firelight flickered through the windows, laughter spilled from the open door. After an entire day of chaos, the misfit party had finally reconvened in the orphanage."
And they were in dangerously high spirits.
Irving raised his mug with a grin so wide it nearly split his face. "HAHAHAHAHA! That—" he slammed the mug down, making the table shake, "—was the smoothest operation I've had in my entire career!"
"AGREED!" Kovalski, Bella, and Ivy chimed in, mug to mug in a triumphant clatter.
Kovalski took a long drink and sighed. "Anyway… where are the kids? It's been an hour since sundown."
Ivy waved the concern off with a loose wrist. "Maybe they wanted to double-check their tracks, make sure no pursuers followed them. They can be very diligent, you know."
"Well, this is their home after all." Irving nodded thoughtfully. "Even if they're rough around the edges, they won't risk leading anyone back here. Smart kids."
"Ugh, I'm hungry," Bella groaned. "I cant wait to eat some of the fresh meat we score today. I'll go check the storage and see if there's something we can snack on while waiting."
She wandered off.
Moments later, Irving's ears twitched.
"Oh—I hear their footsteps," he smiled. "They're not far."
Sure enough, flickers of torchlight danced between the trees.
"Ah! Finally!" Ivy cheered, clapping her hands together. "Our prizes are back!"
"I can already taste the booze," Kovalski added, salivating.
And then Bella returned. Not with food, but holding a folded piece of paper.
"Uh… guys?" she said, tilting her head. "I found this letter."
"What letter?" Ivy asked.
Bella unfolded it. "Let me read… 'Dear Bella, Kovalski, Irving, and most beloved, Ivy…' Oh. This is definitely Robert."
Bella continued reading aloud.
"This past week has been a wonderful time for me and everyone else at the orphanage. You have all taught us many valuable lessons. But the most important one is, you reveal to us that this is a harsh world we lived in."
The Misfit Party hummed approvingly. Good—good. The kids were finally understanding.
Bella kept reading.
"Sister Catherine and I realized that what we've been doing—keeping the children hidden in a secluded forest—was wrong. They won't learn anything about this vast world if we coddle them."
Irving took a sip from his mug, nodding like a proud teacher.
"So we have decided to move out of the forest and live in a settlement. There, we can use our new skills and give the children better opportunities. They must learn to survive."
Kovalski scratched his cheek. "That's… surprisingly mature?"
Bella kept going.
"Oh, speaking of opportunity—we always remember your teaching that we shouldn't let any opportunity slip by."
Except for Bella, everyone's expression darkened. They have a bad feeling where this is going to be.
"So I told Sister Catherine that the 'donations' we got today, should be used as our starting funds on our next journey."
"GAAAASP!!!"
—the trio gasp in unison
Bella, unfazed, kept reading.
"Please do not worry about us or try to look for us. We have already left the orphanage locations at each of our "donor" today. So please don't stay there for too long."
The trio shuddered violently.
Bella continued softly:
"P.S. Apparently you are all very famous. Yesterday, we also told your whereabouts to the guards in Merryhall Town, and we received a handsome reward. I know you will be proud of us for following your teachings to the letter—teehee. Be safe for the rest of your journey. With love, Robert and the others."
Bella smiled warmly.
"Aw… they're growing up so fast." She dabbed her eye with a sleeve.
When she turned around—
The other three were in full panic mode.
Stuff was flying everywhere. Bags were being stuffed violently. Weapons, tools, food—anything they could grab was thrown into their packs.
"Uhh… guys? What's happening?"
But before anyone could answer—
Shadows multiplied outside the windows.
Hundreds of torches were approaching. Fast.
With pitchforks.
With swords.
With nets.
And with very angry expressions.
"W–WHAT THE—!?" Bella shrieked.
"THERE THEY ARE!!" someone from the mob roared.
"RRAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!"
The mob surged toward the orphanage like a tidal wave of wrath.
Kovalski didn't hesitate—he grabbed Ivy like luggage under one arm.
"YOU IDIOT! DON'T YOU GET IT!? THE KIDS SOLD US OUT!"
"EEEHHH!?" Ivy squealed.
"HURRY! RUN!" Irving barked.
"THE FESTIVAL FUNDS WERE IN THAT SUBSPACE BAG TOO!" Ivy screamed, tears streaming dramatically.
And so, on that night—
with their newly acquired skills from Murica's elite training—
The Balevar Thieves Guild was born.
Robert—their sweet innocent crossdresser—would later become the infamous
"Hundred Faces Thief."
Meanwhile, the Misfit Party ran screaming into the forest, hundreds of furious townsfolk chasing after them like a biblical witch hunt.
"I SWEAR I WILL BE CHILD-FREE FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE!!" Ivy's scream echoed into the night.
And so began another chapter of the misfit party grand adventure—the pursuit of the mythical treasure known only as "Single Piece."
---
Tri-Border Ocean
Hundreds of kilometers from Ravendawn's coast, the Dwargonian fleet stretched across the horizon in an awe-inspiring display of naval power. Warships carved through the dark waters like steel titans, while airships hovered above in disciplined formation.
Seventy kilometers away, the Ravendawn Fleet held its line—
Twelve 124-gun ships.
Twenty-five 64-gun ships.
Twenty frigates.
Nine modernized vessels.
Inside the flagship HMS Luxtor, Admiral Lorenzo raised his Murican binoculars and surveyed the distant sea.
A comm-officer approached. "Sir, Murica has sent updated enemy counts."
Captain Rhines gestured. "Read it."
"Yes, sir." The officer flipped open the notebook. "Murica estimates: sixty-five cruisers, forty-one destroyers, fifteen dreadnoughts… and four vessels classified by the Muricans as 'super-dreadnoughts.'"
The deck fell silent. A few paled.
Only Admiral Lorenzo and Captain Rhines remained composed.
Rhines crossed his arms.
"I recall," Rhines muttered, "that by Murican standard, a battleship have an effective gun range of forty-three kilometers. I wonder if Dwargonia's super-dreadnoughts can shoot farther."
"Range means nothing if they cannot see their target," Lorenzo replied calmly. "What about their air forces?"
"Sixty-seven airships," the officer answered. "However the Murican cannot determine their specific roles."
Another officer on the deck suddenly shouted.
"Sir!" someone on deck shouted. "Small Dwargonian airship approaching! Likely a scout!"
Captain Rhines didn't flinch. "Let them. We stick to the plan."
"Aye, sir!"
"Are the Muricans in position?" Lorenzo asked.
"Yes, sir," the comm-officer confirmed.
"Good…" Lorenzo said. "Let the Dwargonians watch us, while we see through Murica's eyes."
---
Fifteen thousand meters above them, an enormous divine condor glided across the sky, its eyes glowing like polished amber. The creature observed both fleets with divine clarity.
And forty kilometers behind, an 18th-century merchant ship drifted innocently—though its passengers were far from harmless.
An elf in deep trance stood upon the deck, hand resting on a large crystal mana-comm.
"Father Idril," a priest asked quietly, "is the connection established?"
"Yes, Father Cedric," Idril said softly without breaking trance. "Relaying now."
The crystal ball shimmered—
and an image appeared, identical to what the divine condor saw from the skies.
"Excellent." Father Cedric stepped forward. "Begin the relay."
The surrounding clerics channeled mana into the crystal, amplifying the image and sending it through the Church's secret network.
One young guard stared in awe. "What are they sending?"
"I forgot you are new," An older guard smirked. "They're transmitting Father Idril's vision to our other listening posts."
"He can see a battlefield that far…"
"Distance means nothing to him," the older guard chuckled. "Weeks ago, he even located the demons' flying vehicles at fifteen thousand meters."
"T–that high!?"
"Heheheh… our church is unmatched in reconnaissance now."
Unmatched—
and very intrusive.
The ship was merely one node in a vast surveillance web stretching across oceans and nations. All eyes of the church Seven Virtues watched eagerly to witness the clash between Dwarves and Demons. From their hidden member in Hearthguard Cairn, to the whispering clergy in Meridinian courts.
---
Goddess Realm
Not only the Church.
A divine spectator also waited eagerly.
"Goddess, the battle is about to begin," Seraph reported, wings neatly folded.
"Fufufu… finally," Goddess Celes said, lounging with a glass of celestial wine as she gazed into her magical mirror. A mirror that can show what her devout believer sees.
"It has been annoying," she said, swirling her drink, "my followers starting to decline ever since those demon influences spread. But today—today shall be a glorious harvest prepared by my devoted church. Hahaha!"
"Yes, Goddess," Seraph agreed. "The Seven Virtues have worked tirelessly—"
"Well, they must," Celes replied smugly. "I granted each of them archangel-level power. Obviously, they must work hard for me."
Seraph bowed. "Your generosity is unmatched."
Celes leaned forward eagerly.
Until—
"Hmmm… but—wait…"
Her eyes narrowed.
"Where are the demons?"
The mirror showed the Dwarves. It showed Ravendawn. But Murica's forces were nowhere to be seen.
Celes leaned even forward, suddenly uneasy.
"…Why aren't the demons on the battlefield?"
---
Dwargonian Fleet, Super-Dreadnought Wavecrusher
Admiral Durnick Axebreaker stood on the deck of his flagship, staring into the horizon.
"Have our scouts spotted Murican forces?" he asked.
"No sir," an officer replied. "Only the Ravendawn fleet."
The ship captain frowned. "Are the demons planning to let Ravendawn wear us down before engaging us?"
"With sixty-one ships?" Durnick scoffed. "And fifty-two of them wooden? No. Something else is happening."
"Then what are they planning?"
"I don't know," the admiral admitted.
A comm-officer rushed forward.
"Sir! Incoming mana-comm from Ravendawn!"
"Hm. Connect."
The crystal shimmered—and Admiral Lorenzo's face appeared.
"Greetings, Admiral Durnick. I am Admiral Lorenzo of the Ravendawn Navy."
Durnick raised an eyebrow. "I didn't expect you to know my name."
"Let's just say my ally provided sufficient information."
"I assume you didn't contact me to brag," Durnick said. "Speak."
Lorenzo nodded solemnly. "It is unfortunate we must face each other with cannons loaded. But I must attempt diplomacy. Keep your fleet within your borders, and we shall remain where we stand. My nation—and Murica—are still investigating the true mastermind behind the incidents among our three nations."
Durnick's voice hardened. "Unfortunately, I am no diplomat. And diplomacy has long passed."
A pause.
"But… for whatever reason drives you, I respect you for trying."
"It is unfortunate indeed," Lorenzo murmured. "Then we shall meet on the battlefield."
"Yes," Durnick said. "We shall."
The connection faded.
Durnick inhaled deeply, steeling himself.
Then—
"Let us begin," he ordered. "Send the vanguard."
Ten Dwargonian ships broke formation, advancing toward Ravendawn like advancing iron wolves.
---
Ravendawn Fleet, HMS Luxtor
"Sir!" an officer reported. "Dwargonian ships are advancing—seven cruisers, three destroyers!"
Admiral Lorenzo exhaled, closing his eyes momentarily.
"…And so," he murmured, "it begins."