Mors and Kara sat talking long into the night before the little demoness fell asleep in a sitting position. Gently laying her down on top of his cloak he used his shirt to cover her. Before looking over to Runt, who was still covered in blood. "Looks like I picked up another useless one."

Placing a few more logs on the fire, Mors revealed a warm smile. "For the past two years, I have been keeping my distance from everyone so that I wouldn't be hurt again and yet, after their betrail, I have collected two strays. Is it me or because they are so pitiful that I can accept them so readily?"

Thinking back over what had happened, Mors repressed a light shiver. "Back down to around 6% of my strength. If those guys weren't so drunk and unprepared, I would be dead. Thank god this world isn't like those games or stories where a level is everything. A man is just a man, even an incredibly strong one."

Poking the fire, he continued muttering to himself as his eyes turned a misty black, just like when he first appeared in this world. "I am not even strong enough to protect myself without getting beaten to a pulp and nearly dying... I have learnt nothing."

He looked at the two sleeping nearby. "I need to decide. Get stronger or ditch the baggage."

Mors lay down and subconsciously grasped Morrigan before falling into a deep sleep.

==== ???? ???? ====

A man in heavy plate armour was standing on a rugged hilltop littered with boulders and dead saplings. His face was illuminated by a flickering orange light, as tears fell down his face.

The large town in front of him was a raging inferno, the wind carrying the distant screams of those unable to escape the blaze and the clash of metal as sword and shield clashed.

The man let out a broken whisper. "So it's returned."

Marching forward, the man walked through the scorched gate, ignoring the burning sensation caused by his rapidly heating armour, his broad sword trailing behind him, leaving a line behind in the ash and debris.

Appearing from the shadows, four men scantily dressed in chunks of armour, looking more intimidating than offering any real protection, charged forward screaming like demons from the abyss.

With precise movements, the man cut through them in a cold, clinical manner that lacked any grace or elegance. He simply killed them, using his sword to cut the major arteries of three and removing the head of another.

"Am I just fooling myself? What is the point when it always ends like this?" The man continued down a path like he had walked it a thousand times. Stepping over burnt bodies and around overturned carriages without sparing them a single glance, he pressed forward.

"Massttteerr....." An enchanting female voice resounded around, but the figure continued as if it didn't exist.

The scenery suddenly changed to that of a majestic city, still burning but not as much as most of the buildings were now stone. The man's armour was now a lorica segmenta and his galea had a black brush like top indicating his rank as a Praetorian Honour guard. His sandles hissed as he walked on the baked cobblestone floor as huge flaming boulders flew overhead before smashing into the stone buildings.

"Protect the Emperor!" A cohort crossed the street in front of him, speeding into the distance were a huge palace like structure stood before once again the sounds of battle filled the air.

Another equally charming voice resounded outwards. "Mas...t...er you must not lose wh...."

Once again the scenery changed, and now he stood in a small village, snow fluttering down, turning red as it soaked into the pools of blood littered around the floor and piled on top of the corpses. The man's sword had become a battle axe and his armour gone, displaying a bare chest covered in blue tattoos. "All that is will return to the dirt... never to be held again."

He stopped in front of a door and wiped the blood tears that were falling from this face. "At least it was short this time."

Around the village, there were screams of pain and misery, explosions and deathly silences as the landscape changed drastically in each direction that could be seen. Trenches, full of mud and guts, with green and grey uniformed men shooting at each other only a couple of dozen yards apart. Men, women and children standing together in what appeared to be grey striped pyjamas, their heads shaved as they waited to enter a cold, concrete structure and many, many more terrible scenes depicting humanities dark side. Some so gruesome that even the most stout of heart would crumble, but the man just stood there, Staring at the door wooden door as if nothing else existed.

"We will protect....you. You are not alone." Yet another female voice resounded through the air.

This time, his eyebrows twitched. "You are not welcome here... return to where ever it is you have come from."

Building his resolve, he pushed open the huts small, wooden door and stepped into a long narrow cave, lit up but little fires that let the smoke hang visibly in the air.

Walking deeper into the cave, corpses of men, women and children, all from different ages and times, littered the floor, their dead eyes staring at him as if blaming him for their condition. A cold, dead voice erupted throughout the cave.

"We trusted you."

The man kept walking.

"We loved you."

Apart from a single tear, the man continued to walk forward emotionlessly. The bodies around him began to decay at an unbelievable rate as worms and insects devouring them.

"You said you would protect us."

The voice slowly got colder, maliciousness creeping into it.

"You said you would never leave us!"

"Do... not liistten to them...." The first voice once again whispered through the strange world as the small fires ended, but strangely the cave did not lose any light.

"While we died, you always lived, suffering for your sins."

The voice got quieter, but its maliciousness increased ten fold.

"You do not deserve to live, deserve happiness.... peace."

"On that, we agree." The man finally stepped into a large cave where we watched a gruesome sight unfold.

In front of him was a young woman holding onto a dead child as she was being eaten alive by a giant toothed cat, screaming in incredible pain before finally silencing due to blood loss, her free hand outstretched to a dark corner as if trying to grasp something.

In the corner, shivering in terror while holding a broken spear, was a young man. Crying as he helplessly watched his mate and child being devoured.

Giving the trembling the man a single glance before glaring at the cat, hatred, loathing and anger burning deep in his eyes, the unknown man spoke. "Shame it never lasts so I can watch myself get eaten. Over 300,000 years of lives and I still can't bear the sight of myself... Pathetic."