Band of Others

Book 0: A Gentle Apocalypse

by M. H. Foster

Genres: Fantasy; Humorous Fantasy

Synopsis

The stakes are higher than ever as the Demon Overlord must once again confront forces that threaten to trample his town and his vegetables in the third installment of this witty, sharp cozy fantasy series. Includes an exclusive bonus adventure coming 12/29/26! 

The Demon Overlord retired. The problem is… not everyone else did.

Galornus Prime, former Demon Overlord and current enthusiast of comfortable seating and tasteful interior décor, has finally achieved the quiet life he always wanted.

No wars.
No heroes.
No destiny.

Just a small town, a modest farm, and the occasional threat to his pickles. It was working.

Then Lucas found him.

Retirement, it turns out, is not a state others recognize.

Some loyalties do not end.
Some problems do not stay solved.
And some things, once set in motion, refuse to stop.

Disturb a perfectly good retirement today!

Release date: December 29, 2026

Publisher: Grand Central Publishing

Print pages: 192

Sample

The thing about Death Knights was that they embodied all the virtues of knights, minus the pesky notions of chivalry. Morals inevitably led mortal knights astray. They provided excuses that allowed selfish preferences and biased beliefs to dictate decisions. Death Knights suffered no such distractions. They were finely honed weapons who obeyed commands to the letter and left pesky things like ethics to their masters.

And they had only one master.

Me. Galornus Prime. The Demon Overlord.

Presently retired.

The bond between me and my Death Knights was unbreakable, and they had always proven extremely useful. Who has the time to kill all the wannabe heroes anyway? My Death Knights always did an excellent job of candidate selection—only the Hero of Ages was worth my time!

Their loyalty used to be quite the feather in my metaphorical cap.

Now it was just annoying.

I should have known that Laekus would never stop looking for me. There was no way the noble jerk could just leave me alone to perfect anonymity. More than any other Death Knight I’d ever known, Laekus had always embodied the ideals of a knight. He’d been this way ever since he’d been the recently orphaned ten-year-old child I’d rescued from slavers.

I’d killed the slavers, naturally. I don’t take slaves. I take vassals. In gratitude he had asked one Galornus Prime to make him a knight and pledged service for all eternity.

I had granted his wish on a whim.

And that brought me to my current predicament: Laekus the Death Knight, the Butcher of a Thousand Armies, the Most Honorable Evil, was kneeling in front of me awaiting my command.

To make matters worse, he’d dragged five hundred pounds of starmetal, that I’d created off-hand, as tribute.

“All Hail Galornus Prime, Overlord of Everything Above and Beyond, Supreme Master of the Demonic Martial Arts, Arch-Legate of the Order of Death Knights,” Laekus said, head bowed as he bent the knee to his lord in an irrelevant forest of a backwater kingdom.

His form was perfect and reflected his knightly sensibilities.

He wasn’t going to get up until I greeted him.

“I greet you, my champion,” I said, sighing.

“Is he ok, Uncle Willem,” Sally said as she popped up behind me. I’d almost forgotten she was there. She stared at Laekus, her expression concerned.

I turned to face her. Thankfully, Sally hadn’t understood a single word we’d just said. How was I supposed to explain that she was looking at a thousand-year-old Death Knight, who also happened to be in the body of an immortal ten-year-old boy? Besides, it was just as well that she didn’t understand what we were saying. I didn’t exactly need her writing “fluent in High Demonic” on her resume when she applied to become a paladin in Trumar Prime. It might raise a few eyebrows.

“Go back home and tell Aunt Rajani that our cousin Lucas will be visiting,” I said gently. Sally perked up at the thought of a new playmate, her previous concern vaporizing with the casualness only children could conjure.

Before I could stop her, she stepped past me and took a knee in the dirt in front of the newly named Lucas. She replicated his posture perfectly.

Sally looked Lucas in the eye and smiled, sticking her hand out.

For the first time in untold centuries, a human child looked into the eyes of my Death Knight without fear, but with welcome.

For the first time since he was ten years old, Lucas was face-to-face with another child that knew him only as another child that might want a friend.

He stared at her for a moment, his face expressionless. I didn’t move an inch. I waited to see what happened but prepared myself to intervene just in case Lucas saw Sally as a threat. Instead, Lucas reached forward slowly and gripped Sally by the wrist in a warrior’s handshake.

He acknowledged her, a ten-year-old and possible future paladin and demon slayer, as an equal.

Sally realized none of this. She just paused a second in confusion as she stared at Lucas’s unfamiliar grip, before squeezing his hand back and shaking his arm up and down in an absolute breach of knightly etiquette.

“My name’s Sally, Lucas,” she said, her eyes never leaving his. “Welcome to Lower Middleton! I’ll see you back at Uncle Willem’s home!”

She got up without another word, turning to sprint home.

“See you at dinner!” she called out as she dashed away. She threw one worried glance back before she disappeared from sight.

I smiled to myself. Sally was a sweet child. It was important that I imprinted on her early so she would hesitate before trying to smite me. Human children were like ducklings, and hardly more sophisticated.

I examined her trail. Excellent. She barely left a trace on the forest floor. Sally was a fast pupil. Soon even the best scouts in Alteria wouldn’t be able to track her unless she wanted them to.

Lucas said nothing. He stayed kneeling, staring at his hand.

“You taught her the Thousand Steps of the Void Walkers,” he said without looking up. There was no incrimination in his tone.

“She calls it the Sneaky Steps of the Baby Fawn,” I said.

Lucas nodded, as if human children changing ancient demonic martial arts forms were the most natural thing in the world.

He took out a small dragonskin notebook and piece of writing charcoal from his tunic.

“A most excellent modification my lord. I will update the sacred manuals,” he said.

I watched as he scribbled in the notebook he’d bought for himself as a reward for besting the aspiring hero Berial. His writing was meticulous as usual.

What had happened to Berial anyway? The Hero of Shadows I think he called himself? They always had such lame names. I never did find the body.

“What are you doing here?” I said finally.

“I sensed your power, my lord,” Lucas said simply. “And I logically concluded that it was a beacon calling me to arms. Where you are, I am and always will be.”

I sighed again. Theatrically this time. Arthur had been preparing for a school play, and I’d been forced to practice with the children. Inevitably, it had ended up infecting how I spoke. I supposed if I ever became the Demon Overlord Galornus Prime again one day, my monologues would be much more memorable.

“I didn’t summon you,” I said. “And get up. I’m tired just looking at you.”

Lucas got up.

“You may not have summoned me, my lord, but I am First among your Death Knights. Where you are, I am,” he said.

I ignored his comment. What was I supposed to say? The whole point of retirement was getting away from all these entanglements.

“What did you do with your armor?” I asked, looking around. I rarely saw him out of it. I doubted there was a human or any other creature alive that recalled what Lucas actually looked like when he was out of his armor.

For the first time since I’d known him, Lucas averted his eyes and didn’t look at me directly.

“It’s somewhere safe,” he said evasively.

My eyes narrowed, and I stared at him for a moment before walking on. This was a problem for future me, and I would let future me handle it. I would grant Lucas guest rights for a few weeks then send him on his way. Probably with Rajani, and to somewhere far, far away. Then it would be Rajani’s problem.

Delegation was such a beautiful thing. I would kill two harpies with one fireball. If Rajani dared to refuse, Lucas would compel her by swordpoint.

The mere thought warmed my heart. Maybe I’d judged his arrival too hastily.

For now, unfortunately, I had bigger problems. Like a certain trail of destruction leading straight from a newly formed vein of starmetal to Lower Middleton that I would most rather have no one noticing.

This was all Rajani’s fault. If she hadn’t gone messing with the courtship rituals between Elara and Aldrich, I wouldn’t be stuck in this mess. Yet another item on the rapidly growing tab between me and the former Queen of the Succubi who also happened to be my current freeloading roommate.

I’d deal with Lucas and his missing armor another time. For now, I had to cover his tracks before any more unwelcome guests showed up at my doorstep. Clearly my subjects missed me too much to leave me alone in retirement. I’d need to take steps to hide my tracks better. Being adored was such a burden.

I looked at Lucas.

“Watch and prepare to be impressed. I’ve learned a few things since we were last together.”

I raised my arms in a grand gesture. I definitely didn’t peek to see if he was watching.

Lucas bowed. A precise thirty-degree angle, back straight, head lowered. Resplendent.

It was nice to show my superiority every once in a while. And it wasn’t like I was coming out of retirement. I was just reminiscing and sharing my skills with some old coworkers. This was definitely okay. Even retired overlords deserved to attend alumni gatherings every once in a while and showcase new talents.

I summoned the tiniest trace of my power and sent it into the trail of destruction Lucas had left in his wake. The direct path he’d taken hadn’t just resulted in toppled trees. The weight of the starmetal had also compacted the earth and rendered it as stiff as a cobblestone road. Without some interference, it would be months before anything grew properly, and probably years before anything more than moss and some grass took root.

This just wouldn’t do.

I wove life and death magic together gently and the crushed vegetation and toppled logs began to decay before our eyes. In moments, dense oak logs became home to a veritable host of fungus and then decomposed further until they were mere bumps underneath a host of new life.

I was careful not to use too much power. I’d learned my lesson after all. Accidentally opening one mountain pass, revitalizing a river, and somewhat intentionally creating a bonanza of starmetal had been enough of a lesson, thank you very much.

This time, my magic would be generic and tidy.

As I channeled my power, I noticed a patch of heartspice mushrooms growing next to my feet. It was the edible kind that Sally and the children at Arthur’s school were always talking about.

How interesting. I grew distracted for a split second as I considered them.

I’d pick it up and bring it home later. Maybe Sally would like it for dinner. She’d be hungry after practice earlier today.

A few more seconds passed before I let my magic fade. Fungus and other insignificant plant life covered the trail. Anybody who came across it would wonder just how such a straight path had formed without trees but dismiss it quickly as an idle curiosity.

It was abnormal, but not exactly special. Besides, with all that fungus and growth it looked like nobody had walked there for months. My secret was safe.

And now for the starmetal… I pointed at it, forcing it to condense until it was a pure, dense block of refined ore that was a tenth its previous size. It still weighed at least three hundred pounds and was almost twice the size of Lucas, but at least it was a manageable size now.

“Carry that,” I ordered. I wasn’t a pack animal. Lucas dug it up. Therefore, Lucas got to carry it. It was only fair. As he picked up the pack, I stopped to pick a few mushrooms. These would make me quite popular back at the cottage.

Lucas nodded and dutifully wrapped his rope around it before strapping the block to his back. He sank slightly into the ground but showed no sign of strain.

Satisfied, I turned and waved at Lucas to follow me.

“Come on, we’re going to my house,” I said.

“You honor me, my lord Galornus Prime,” Lucas said. “I look forward to visiting your new dominion.”

He walked one step behind me, as was appropriate for my champion.

It was nice to be in the company of cultured lifeforms once more. Rajani didn’t count. She was more like an unwelcome sister that I could neither banish nor slay.

“Don’t call me Galornus Prime anymore. Here my name is Willem Porter, and I am a turnip farmer,” I said. “And from now on, remember your name is Lucas.”

“I hear and obey, Lord Turnip Farmer Willem,” Lucas said.

We walked home silently.

Behind us, a trail six feet wide and a full mile long of the most finely prized heartspice mushrooms in all of the Kingdom of Trumar gleamed, ready to be discovered by some fortunate chef.

“What. Is. HE. Doing. Here?!”

Rajani stood at the entrance to my cottage. She did not look in the least bit amused as she stared at Lucas and me. If looks could kill, then Lucas would already be a smoldering corpse. Then again, if looks could kill, Rajani would be in a thousand pieces, courtesy of Lucas’s equally unfriendly stare.

My apparent demise and transition to retirement had done nothing to change their mutual loathing.

The Queen of the Succubi and Mistress of Elegant Seduction was wearing an old apron two sizes too small. It was a gift Mrs. Crankshaw had given Rajani when she began teaching her how to cook. A wide smear of flour decorated her left cheek, and a strand of black hair was stuck to her forehead—clear evidence that she had spent time in a hot kitchen preparing the evening meal. A long kitchen spoon was clenched in her right hand, the remnants of whatever it was she was stirring still smeared in its scoop.

Instead of giving her a disheveled appearance, the imperfections somehow looked artfully applied and served to elevate her beauty. The smear of flour was war paint, the lock of hair across her forehead a fashion statement, and the long wooden spoon her weapon of choice.

This wasn’t far from the truth. Even inanimate objects strove to serve the will of Rajani when she so desired. Rounded objects would take on the point of the sharpest spear and silk the toughness of steel if she asked.

Lucas was suitably unimpressed.

He hadn’t moved a single inch from behind me, but his stillness was not the result of surprise at Rajani’s appearance. It was the stillness of a warrior ready for battle and a hairsbreadth away from breaking out into sudden and permanent violence. The stare he gave Rajani was one reserved for bugs, and a particularly annoying one at that.

“Our cousin Lucas has found us,” I announced loudly and carefully. “He heard I was living in Lower Middleton and came to find me. Just like you, cousin.”

Rajani’s mouth clamped shut, her lips forming a white line as she followed the meaning of my words.

I didn’t sense anybody listening, but I couldn’t take the chance. Mrs. Crankshaw and a number of the senior inhabitants of Lower Middleton had demonstrated sensory capabilities on par with any djinn I’d ever known. Where there was scandal, they were sure to find out, and whatever they discovered, they spread faster than telepaths and magnified exponentially.

Speculation and gossip were the true superpowers of humans.

Rajani wasn’t having any of it. “Your cousin,” she repeated flatly. Her eyes hadn’t left Lucas. “You’re calling this abomination your cousin now?”

She sneered at him, and this time there was nothing artful or pretty about her face.

“What did you do with your armor, dog? You look diminished without your toys. Hardly a knight as you’re so fond of calling yourself.”

It was a not-so-subtle insult that wasn’t entirely untrue.

Lucas’s armor wasn’t just defensive in nature. It was powered by his soul and the oaths he’d made as a ten-year-old child. Death magic was woven into each plate and joint that absorbed power each time he killed. After centuries of war, it had accumulated so much power that he could defeat entire armies by himself.

Elara and Aldrich’s fathers had discovered that the hard way.

Without it, Lucas was still incredibly powerful, just not at his full potential. I still didn’t understand why he had left it behind. I wasn’t worried that someone else would wield it. The armor was soul-locked to Lucas and anyone else who used it would be painfully and permanently destroyed.

No, my main concern was some half-educated human mage would try to reverse engineer it. At best they would obliterate themselves. More likely they would trigger the armor’s defenses. The resulting explosion would be the equivalent of a large volcano erupting and spewing millions of tons of ash into the air.

A new ice age would not be good for my turnips. One incarnation I tried large-scale climate change by meteor when I didn’t feel like fighting the hero. The results had been… subpar.

Nobody won by enacting Armageddon-level events.

“Rajani,” Lucas said. For the first time, I registered the eerie calm and depth of his voice. Children didn’t usually sound like this. I would know. I’d spent enough time chaperoning them as they flew kites in my garden.

They squealed, yelled in excitement, and pointed at commonplace occurrences with excitement. None of them ever acted like Lucas.

“Still clinging on to our lord like a parasite?”

“Better a parasite than a dog who can’t learn new tricks!”

Luc. . .