Author's Note:

Hey!

This is a chapter I had wanted to write since chapter seven of the first volume, close to three years in other words and finally it happened. I wish I could have spent more time perfecting it but university didn't give me a chance. It's a wonder I still managed to finish writing it by stealing time from breaks. I have to say university assignment deadlines, work and sleep aren't best collaborators. They don't leave much for anything else and the holidays can't come too soon.

Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter and sorry for any mistakes. It wasn't proofread because I didn't have the time. Will do it as soon as my schedule clears, promise!

Edit: Proof-read

***

Noise was the first thing Ace noticed when he entered Marion’s new tent. It had been sown three times the size and erected on a hill overlooking Lasran. One couldn’t hope for a more advantageous position to order from.

And Marion was planning to use it to the most. Because of it dozens of messengers and officers were running back and forth with new orders. Some older men stood close to Marion, advising him. It didn’t look like he listened much to their words but they were there, adding to the cacophony of sounds.

Ace waded his way through that mass with ease, even if no one got out of his way. They were too distracted to care who they were facing. Back and forth, back and forth they rushed with new orders and words about problems in positioning.

One battalion had already managed to get entangled in a fight. It pissed Marion but he told the messenger to have them back off, return to their position. No, he didn’t care if that made them look bad. His orders had been clear. Stand still until the attack had been called.

There was still going to be a word battle between the commander’s first. For some reason, L and Marion had agreed to have a conversation, make the other see reason as they put it. Even the biggest moron in both armies didn’t believe anything was going to be solved by that.

Nothing more than a waste of time.

Or so Ace thought but he wasn’t a general or leader. Maybe there was some hidden meaning he wasn’t aware of.

Listening he moved through the crowds, bored by simply staying next to Marion. His presence wasn’t noted and nobody had given him a task to do.

/How is it there?/ he wrote while pretending to clean dust off his clothes. He tried to remember when he had thought of this way to hide his messaging but couldn’t recall. It had been that long ago. Now fingers moved on instinct in ways that wouldn’t attract attention.

Minutes later a reply came. /Preparing for the attack. Anything to report?/

Ace considered that. There was so much to report he didn’t know where to start. He was after all in the place where all orders were given. Should he?

Next moment he called Monthu. As the guy answered, Ace made his way back to Marion. His friend didn’t need to be told who he was hearing in the background.

It had been a nice idea for spying but now Ace was locked in this place. He sighed and made himself comfortable against a tent’s pole. Sitting there he wouldn’t be in anyone’s way, able to listen without interruptions.

As he did that, voices from Monthu’s side became more clear. They were arguing with him, disbelieving his words. In their opinion’s Marion wouldn’t do something this or that way.

L shut them up quick. He hadn’t asked Monthu anything but he should have known. It wasn’t that hard to guess where he was getting his information.

Their differences settled, new plans where drawn. Orders were sent to captains through messages and soldiers moved. Marion noticed movement of L’s ranks and started changing up his own. Again.

They played that game for hours.

Ace was sure he was going to die from boredom when Marion stood up. He motioned for his advisers to follow, leaving the tent without a glance to see if they did.

Gone. Most of the people had left and Ace found himself with a few loitering soldiers, messengers that were too late in passing their news. Five people in total. They weren’t going to notice the difference.

He didn’t move but started whispering under his breath, “Beloved dreams, feared nightmares, different worlds, same horrors combine into one and come crashing onto the mortal souls, Phantasm!”

A few glances were thrown his way but since nothing happened at the cast, their interest dwindled. Moment more and Ace could work undisturbed. Magic was cast but now he had to shape his illusion.

First there was deciding what was going to happen. What did he want to achieve? A game wasn’t a game if there were no goals. So he should set some up for himself.

Marion’s death seemed like too easy a thing. Defeat of his forces a bit too grand a scale. “Mhmm...” he wondered, looking over the room. His eyes passed through the soldiers, maps, racks of papers in the corner... He returned his eyes back to the maps.

There. That was what he could do.

Now the goals themselves. When would it count that he had won? Was Marion starting to lose good enough or...?

“How are you?” a voice asked, cutting through his thoughts.

“Fine, “ he answered with a touch of annoyance. “Don’t surprise me like that.”

“I couldn’t see you with Marion so wanted to check that everything is okay. He didn’t notice you were spying?”

Monthu was such a worrier. Did he ever take a risk in his life?

He told you the truth, a soft voice whispered in his mind. Kirin shushed it with a loud bark. He still hadn’t decided how he felt about the betrayal.

It proved everything he had thought about humans, should have extinguished his last vestiges of hope. But there was still a little flame glowing inside. Monthu had told the truth. He hadn’t hidden and hoped to escape with lies.

That made him better than the rest, didn’t it? Kirin wasn’t sure.Should betrayal be forgiven because the person didn’t mean to do it? It had been carelessness?

“You would have heard if he had,” Ace bit back. “Did you need anything for real or just want to annoy me?”

There was no answer from the other end. At first Ace was annoyed but then thought better of it. He didn’t want to talk to anyone at the moment. The reason for getting away was to think without being influenced by more words.

And this was exactly that. Him making a stand of his own.

He chuckled. No, it wasn’t. This was just another game. Another way to amuse himself. Pass the endless days.

He wasn’t meant to be around people. That was getting clearer with each passing day. This game world was only encouraging that belief.

As he pondered that, people started returning to the tent. Marion looked indifferent but there was a stiffness to his shoulders that hadn’t been there before. He moved straight to the map, making couple subtle changes to the pins and passed one simple order to all the messengers present.

Attack.

Ace stood up from his corner. This was getting more interesting so he wanted to be closer. History channels had a lot on tactics and old battles but this was the real thing. Magic might be involved and some other weird things but this was still a real battle. An all out war over a city.

One that didn’t hold anything important. It was simply in the way.

He wondered how often that had happened in real life. People fighting and dying for places that held no meaning but were in the path of someone’s dream. Pathetic. It was laughable how little reason humans needed to slaughter each other.

Sounds of orders from L’s side reached his ears, the call was still open. They were planning to engage the front of the army with their own warriors while a dozen rogues would try to sneak through the chaos and reach the healers on the hill.

That was suicidal. There was no way they could deal damage and escape which meant L had acquired the resurrection item. Three deaths before being kicked out.

It would make sacrificing your members a viable strategy.

If he had any loyalty, Ace thought he should tell that to Marion. He could easily get around it. Was smart enough for that. But that would mean betraying L and Monthu, and no matter how tempted he was, this was not the time.

Enough of that was done to gain acceptance. If he said a word more, this would turn into slaughter rather than battle. Something he had no wish to happen. It was a real war he wanted to see.

Magic clashed and the force of it made the tent quiver. Its poles bent from the pressure but held. A command barked by Marion had a shield created which dulled the pressure and sounds from outside.

Instead on the main table a bird’s view map came into existence. It had hills and valleys, mountains in the corner. Troops from both sides were small dots moving in the fields, around the walls. Even the inside of the city could be seen with defenders lining the walls, releasing volleys of arrows.

Ace was sure he could see L watching like a princess from her tower what was going below. There was no way to be sure but who else could it be. Others would be standing around their own map, discussing last minute strategies and watching the battle unfold.

“Did you remember anything?” Marion asked, interrupting his thoughts. Ace glanced at him to see everyone in the tent staring at him. “They look like ants to be crushed under one’s boot. I was wondering why I ever bothered with this revenge nonsense. It’s not worth the trouble.”

Commander scowled at his reply but turned away to say something to one of the mages present. They fell into a heated discussion about spell damage versus casting time efficiency when destroying walls first or soldiers and soon no one paid any attention to Ace once more.

He noted that, an idea coming. There was one thing he could do to destroy whatever Marion was planning without going overboard. It was so simple yet brilliant.

When another order was sent to a company of soldiers, he watched their progress. With that knowledge in his right eye, he started to carefully edit the truth. Push the dots just a bit further, remove some more from the other side. There, they were fighting from the top of a small hill. Or so it seemed to the onlookers, his left eye.

Another order, another careful manoeuvring of dots.

This was an interesting game. Ace wondered just how much he could change the truth until someone noticed. On his side.

Monthu was hearing the orders through him, disbelieving since they made no sense to what was going on the battlefield but still acted against them. And won.

Considerable damage was being received by Marion’s companies. Most followed the orders entering disadvantageous situations where they died like flies. Not a few squads were annihilated before understanding what was happening.

Massacre. Each single command was faulty, leading only to defeats. Well, not all. Sometimes Marion’s forces were just that better. Even with odds against them they pushed on, securing the grounds ordered. Or backed off since Ace showed them losing.

He wished he could see the faces of soldiers receiving such orders. It would have been like an icing on the cake. The horror of seeing traps sprung on them, being told to march forward when they were taking heavy losses with each step or ordered to withdraw when winning.

What could be running through their heads at such a time? Did they fight without a care, unconcerned about the outcome or believe their leaders were idiots? Would anyone entertain the thought of being betrayed?

A messenger rushed in. His armour was broken in places, blood seeped from a wound on his forehead mixing with sweat as it went down his face. “We - we - we are being destroyed!” he wheezed out falling on his knees. “Half of our company is already dead! Sill you tell us to push forward!”

“Company?” Marion asked in an ice cold voice. He wasn’t liking this. From the map, no one was receiving such heavy losses. But the man’s appearance suggested he wasn’t lying. So what was happening?

Ace stood behind everyone so allowed himself a smile. It was gone the next instance as he calculated what to do now. Escape was too early. He could still have so much fun here.

A scrupulous look at the man revealed a red insignia on his lapel. Good enough. All companies that had red in their marks suddenly started to lose while everyone watched the newcomer.

“Red Fin, sir” he replied and everyone looked to the map. Ace identified the right company. Previously it had been winning heavy-handedly on his illusion. His small adjustment of their step back was none too soon.

Now that everyone was looking he had to work with surgeon’s precision. One mistake and it would be over.

Carefully, he moved the enemy dots forward. It looked weird as there was fewer of them so he split them apart, doubling the number to an audible gasp in the audience. This was still only partway, now the larger numbers moved with a purposeful stride, flanking the remainder of the company from two sides.

“How long is the time lag here?” Marion asked in a barely controlled voice.

The addressed mage looked puzzled but knew better than to try telling the truth. It would look nothing but him trying to save his hide. “Just a few minutes, milord,” he said with his head down.

“And you didn’t think about telling that before?” growled commander, shifting his gaze to the map. “That company is dead now.”

Messenger hissed in anger or pain before getting himself out of tent. Ace kept his smile this time. There was still plenty of time to save the remainder of the company. They weren’t as surrounded as he had portrayed, nor dying as fast.

But without help they were doomed. And no one was coming for them. He had made sure of that.

Now back to the whole map. All reds had started losing because of his previous efforts so that needed to be remedied. If it stayed, some might notice and connect what was happening.

“But what had that been, numbers doubling out of nowhere?” an advisor asked. “I’ve never seen anything like that before.”

The mage, owner of the map, gave the man a displeased look. “It’s an old tactic that has been long out of practise because it’s so hard to achieve. Squad members move extremely close to each other so that from high above they look like one person, tricking enemy commanders.”

‘So that’s what I did,’ Ace thought with pride. ‘I just made L’s soldiers professionals and Monthu a commander that knows all the little secrets to winning. And it didn’t even take me a day.’

For a time he let the battle proceed as it was. He moved the soldiers on the board in the correct manner as they were now. Some losing, some winning, all wrong.

His commander was getting furious as he watched it. “I’m going outside,” he bellowed, pushing through the advisers to tent’s flapping opening. Ace was quick on his heels.

It seemed like he had just passed a level. Everything doubled in difficulty without any warning.

As the man left the tent, Ace made the sun blind him as he darted forward. In the second he had he looked over the battlefield seen from the hill and edited it to fit his previous illusion. Everyone in a large radius around him was going to see what he wanted them to.

He heard one person murmuring to himself that he could have sworn the clerics were closer last time he checked.

This wasn’t going to do. Ace closed his left eye that saw the illusion and took in all the truth. Healers were twice as close as he portrayed. They were lazing around most, not daring to come too close to the fighting in case of getting hit. It made them quite useless but from time to time they would cast a huge spell in unison that would heal a whole company close to a kilometre from them.

Ahead of them were lines of wizards casting large scale spells. Fire and meteors rained on the city barrier. Storms rose lifting enemy soldiers in air and flinging them about, striking units trying to disengage.

More forward were rangers, archers and gunman. Often their missiles lost track in the chaos in the air, hitting unintended targets or falling aimlessly. Curses and swears rose from their ranks, polluting the air. Many a glare were sent up to the mages who were too entranced by their own magic to notice.

At the very bottom a flashing of light could be seen. It was a bloody melee but there were so many skills and abilities used that they overshadowed everything. Lights flickered in all the colours of a rainbow and that was all.

No one could say who was winning. It wasn’t colour coded for convenience. Players from both sides had similar classes and skills, resulting in pure chaos. Ace wondered how they even knew who the enemy was. From his high point, all soldiers looked the same.

But that was only going to help him. Slowly, without attracting any attention he started to change his illusion after closing the right eye and opening left. Ranged players moved closer, taking a step back after some incoherent orders were shouted. Their steps looked small but made them appear right around the real place they were.

Then it was time to make his fight below much flashier. He hadn’t imagined it would be this bright when he had created it in an instant. That’s what you got when working with a time limit of a second. But no matter.

In his mind a soldier jumped in the air, his sword shining blue and dropped with a burst of light. This probed others to use their skills, basking the battlefield in a myriad of colours.

Here, it was done. He opened both eyes to overlook his work with a judgemental gaze. There were differences, but only ones he wanted. Some terrain looked slightly different, in other places fighters formed formations unlike what was true. Couple of spells seemed to do more damage than in reality.

Subtle touches that made all the difference in a battle like this.

“Left wing is falling back, it needs reinforcements,” an advisor suggested. Both Ace and Marion looked in that direction.

The words had been true. Left side of the army wasn’t falling apart but moving back in ranks, not able to withhold the power of Lasran’s army. Or more like a party of players.

While they watched, five players slaughtered more than twenty of theirs. Two scimitars backed by a pair of close ranged mages and a battle cleric. They sowed death like it was their right. No one could stand in their way.

It took them moments to clear a path between Marion’s ranks. Now they were falling apart. Players started to turn and run away while NPCs fought on their own. Silly duty on their minds. There was no chance for them.

They were cut down in waves with each blades sweep, the gap widening. It was only quickened by restricting spells, a well aimed holy judgement.

“Something has to be done!” another advisor shouted out horror stricken. He touched his brow with a clean handkerchief, doting the sweat off.

Marion shook his head. “No, let them fight the scum. Their energy will soon run out and then we’ll strike.”

It was an strategy that wouldn’t win you many followers. Ace wondered what Marion was planning. He was giving up his whole left flank to exhaust five players. Were they that essential to L’s success or did Marion know something he didn’t? Was this a mastermind plan to lure the defenders into a trap?

But what could it be? Now that the left wasn’t being reinforced, he heard Monthu ordering his mounted units forward. Knight classes would rush from the side, attacking the left flank from behind and cutting its retreat path. It would be a massacre and not in favour of Marion.

Was it?

Ace tried to encompass the whole battlefield in his vision. Many of the things he’d changed but the whole feeling was the same. He didn’t want to edit too much, else it would be noticed.

Right was losing also. Just a bit in his illusion while much more in truth. Still, one could know it was going to give soon. Only the middle stayed strong, pushing forward even. If it continued, they would be left alone, surrounded by enemies from all sides.

Lasran had the better position. It was winning.

That wasn’t right. Something had to be up. Marion’s army had been thrice the size of L’s and more than dregs of life that fought below. Those were the weakest in his arsenal of weapons.

His eyes widened at the realisation. This was not about winning. They were buying time for something, wasting L’s troops energy. By the end of the day they would be exhausted and then Marion would spring his trap. Fresh army, stronger than the one before.

The city won’t hold out for two hours.

Without thought, Ace’s fingers started typing a message. They were as discreet as he could make them but a painful grip caught his wrist. “What are you doing?” Marion asked in a low voice.

“Telling them to leave me the hell alone,” he answered with a glare of his own. Two could play this game.

Grip on his hands tightened. It was reaching bone breaking levels but pain wasn’t of any interest to Ace. This was about making a point. “You think you have the right to know exactly how?” he asked with a teasing smile, touch of mockery in his tone.

“You said you were done with them,” Marion said in a grinding voice, bringing Ace’s hand higher up. His fingers were still moving, writing the last letters before sending the message off, going limp.

“That does not mean they’re done with me,” Ace answered without trying to free his hand. So what if it was turning blue, bones making a distinct crack.

Both of them knew he would heal it with a single potion.

“Show me the message.”

“Ask nicely,” Ace taunted the man towering over him. He had a distinct impression he was supposed to feel intimidated. Height difference, menacing look and all that. Marion had chosen the wrong person to try his tactics on.

Next moment the man pulled Ace towards himself. One moment they were face to face and then he was flying. That lasted for less than half a second but the commander had thrown him.

Ace admired the strength required for it as he rolled to lessen the impact. He had fallen enough times to know how to survive. Not that there was chance of a lot of damage. It had been more of a childish tantrum than a real attack.

He landed on his feet, releasing his muscles to sprawl on the ground. Sun was high up, shining like it was just another day. Peace or war, it was all the same to the nature. Sun wasn’t going to stop raising just because humans decided to exterminate each other.

Sword came for his heart. It was so unexpected, Ace had little time to react. [Instincts of a Predator] and [Evasion] working without his consent were the only reason the blade landed at his side, slicing the side of his shirt and cloak.

That was one sharp weapon.

With a swiftness of a cat, he jumped to his feet, releasing the knot on his throat holding the cloak. It was that or tear it on the blade. Not a choice, really. One hole was more than enough.

As he stood up, he crouched to face his opponent. It was a giant man with crooked teeth and unkempt beard. Where had he even come from? Ace couldn’t remember seeing him anywhere in the camp, especially near Marion.

This was getting weirder and weirder. While he considered that, the man pulled out his sword and came after him again. Ace waited for his swing, then darted sideways and rolled to grab his cloak. Once it was in his hands, the fight could really start.

He put it in his inventory and turned. Kris materialised in his hand as he stalked forward. His opponent had a lot of muscle but the speed, it was disastrous. How could he even be called a fighter?

Ace waited for him to make another swing. Giant tried to guess his direction, thinking he’ll dodge again. This left him open on the left and Ace went forward. His dagger dug into soft flesh, soaking in the blood of its prey.

Another sacrifice to [Heart-seeker].

The giant gasped, releasing his blade and reaching for the dagger. Ace didn’t wait for him and pulled it out with a sickly sucking sound. Blood oozed from the wound as the man tried to block it with his fingers, shock contorting his features.

“Ho-?” he tried asking but words escaped him as death took him. He fell forward like a log, Ace barely managing to jump back. He then turned to face the crowd on the hill.

Everyone had been watching.

From the lowest runner boys and messengers to Marion with his advisers, all eyes had been on the show. Now they stared at him with a myriad of emotions reflected in their gazes. Horror, fear, surprise, adoration. Each person had a different view of his actions.

If this was theatre, his role had to be finished with a flourish.

He tipped an imaginary hat their way before turning to walk away. “Plan to send anyone else?” he asked over his shoulder as if it had been an afterthought.

It infuriated the commander. Marion’s hands whitened from the clenching but he said nothing. He had lost this round.

“Order the troops to go! Don’t let the enemies retreat behind the walls!”

Ace’s heart sank as he heard the order. Monthu had started to change his battle plans after the missive. Some of the companies had backed off, returning to better positions but not all. The main portion of the army was still neck thick in fighting. It would take time to have them retreat.

A curse was on his lips but it wasn’t going to help. He needed to do something, and fast. One more impossible task thrown his way.

Or was it?

He thought about his class, the fact that he was the creator of it in a way. Could he really tell himself truthfully that he couldn’t do anything? He had promised to help. It wasn’t binding but Monthu had believed in him, suggested they work together.

Partnering up wasn’t his style but he didn’t really want to be always alone either. If Lasran won, there might come a better day. Peaceful times when he would have time to shift through his feelings, what did he really think about being betrayed.

It was easy to say he wasn’t a fan. But just how deep had the cut went? At the moment he didn’t have neither patience, nor time to consider. His side was going to lose soon if he didn’t do anything.

First things first, he needed to see just how bad the situation was. He activated [Radiant Step] and jogged upwards, taking in the whole battlefield. The fight was still equal, going well for Lasran even. Marion’s people were being pushed back.

But it wouldn’t last. Ace looked in all directions, went even higher until a glimmer of light caught his attention. Around a hill, hidden from the city’s sight an army was marching. It was twice the size of the previous one.

If that wasn’t enough, the soldiers were moving in a practised manner. Their step was quick and light, close to running. As they moved metal glistened in the sun. Spears and poles, long swords and sabres, any weapon you could think of was there. One man was carrying a spiked steel ball on a chain, another inspecting stilettos on his hands.

Fascinating display if it didn’t spell disaster for his side. Lasran didn’t have an extra army. Even with multiple revives people there wouldn’t be able to hold back against triple their numbers. The enemy force was just too overwhelming.

They needed to be cleared up.

Ace went downwards, coming closer to the army. As he was nearing them, a familiar feeling entered his chest. Power. He was alone up here, like a god watching people scrambling to keep their lives. Pitiful little creatures. They didn’t understand god wanted to play now.

In an instant, it was clear what he needed to do. No. What he wanted.

“Phantasm,” he whispered to evoke the spell again. It was active but an extra influx of mana wasn’t going to hurt. He was going to do something monumental, after all.

For a second he closed his eyes, imagining a different place. When it was firm in his mind, he snapped his eyes open.

Time to play.

***

Unearthly screams. Sounds humans should never make rang in Marion’s ears. Animal growls and curses reached his covered ears. It was beyond horrifying. And it was coming from where his reserve should have been.

“What is going on?” he shouted out to his advisers but they had their own ears covered, trying to dampen the sound in any way. One could go mad from it.

But there was no time for such nonsense. Marion grabbed one of the messengers by the hand. “What’s happening?” His answer was a wide-eyed stare as the young man twisted from his grip and ran off shaking.

There was no choice, he had to go himself.

A glimpse on the battlefield told him that it was a stalemate. His troops were locked with the city’s, neither wanting to push past the middle ground and pass into enemy territory.

That was good enough and he jumped onto a horse saddled just for him. The animal gnawed at the reins, eager to get moving. Marion didn’t hold him back.

His reserves should have entered the scene by now. One fell swoop and the city would have been his. By the evening sun, he could have stood watching the ground from the high tower.

He shook his head, pushing the thoughts away. It was important to concentrate on what was now. He needed to find out what happened to his army and get them moving forward. Enemies were still in fighting positions, unable to retreat. If they were wiped out, the place would be left defenceless, ripe for taking.

Couple minutes of galloping and he was above his reserves. The animal shied then, almost throwing him off. Years of practice were the only thing that kept Marion in the saddle. “Shush,” he ordered the horse, pulling on the reins to calm it somehow.

But the horse wasn’t listening. It stamped in place, shaking its mane and snorting. Marion had no choice but to jump off him before he was forcibly removed. The uncomfortable landing passed through his bones but it wasn’t life threatening. He might not be a youth any longer, but no horse was going to cripple him yet.

The moment he was off, his animal stood on its hind legs, eyes white and galloped off. It was gone before Marion had managed to get himself up. What had scared the horse so?

Was it the wails? Marion winced as they got back his attention. They were louder here, more clear. With a touch of trepidation in his heart, he moved to the rock from which he could see downwards, onto his army.

It was human made sound, all right. There were no magical beasts below. Just soldiers, his followers.

Slaughtering each other.

They were scattered across the plains like broken toys. Many were crouching down with eyes wide, bodies shivering, weapons clutched tightly in their grips. If anyone as much as moved in their direction, they lashed out. Daggers and short swords darted forward, slashing, stabbing. There was no order or mind in their attacks, pure undiluted terror moved their hands.

Others simply stood still. There were emptiness in their expressions. Marion would have mistaken them for statues if not the insignia he’d had them put on. Those were no stone warriors.

Few were walking with their weapons outstretched. On shaky feet they moved through windy paths that were not there. Often their heads turned to regard their surroundings but they saw nothing. Instead of their comrades, something worse met their gazes.

Another scream added to the air thick with horror. Marion simply could not comprehend what was happening. The person had been simply walking, then turned to look sideways and lurched backwards. Weapon slid out of his hands as he stood frozen in the spot. And then he was off, fear and terror oozing from his voice.

As he ran, he stumbled into a girl crouched into a ball and weeping softly. Together they fell, limbs mixing between them. The man got his wits back first, his horrified shriek piercing a hole in Marion’s chest. Never in his life had he heard someone so filled with horror and anguish.

The man’s dagger found the girl’s heart. He stabbed her repeatedly, many times the place where her body had long ago turned into mist. It was as if he no longer knew what he was doing. A twisted smile blossomed on his face as he kept stabbing and stabbing, unable to stop. Curses and mocking words following each strike.

Marion could no longer watch. If it had been a native girl... the man would have mutilated her beyond recognition. He shifted his eyes but there was no place to rest them.

Wherever he turned, sights from worst nightmares met his eyes. Here a person was kicking another to death, there another was slicing his own skin open with a sick fervour. On his right a man was cracking skulls open of the shivering in a crouch ones, while on the left a person was vomiting blood, his own blade in his stomach. And he was cackling so loud it overshadowed the screams for a moment. Then he was dead and the wails rose in a wave to crash against Marion’s ears.

He fell to his knees, legs unable to keep him up. Fear permeated his skin, seeped into his bones, reaching for the core of his being. There was little he could do to fight it back.

He had seen battlefields. Death wasn’t a new thing for him. Dismembered bodies, ones swollen from poison or rotting. He had seen them all and had little reaction. But this...

This was nothing alike. It was no fight. People simply slaughtered each other, and themselves. There was no order or reason to it. Nothing he could anchor to. No safe haven existed in that field of madness.

A crack distracted him from his ravings. His unfocused gaze searched for the source when he felt himself sliding. Hands reached to hold onto something but there was only hard ground. It was still frozen after the winter, his fingers making indentations as he went down.

Ground welcomed him with a cold grip. Something snapped on impact. Pain blinded him. He tried to get hands beneath himself, push up but his body refused. It hurt too much, limbs were too weak.

”Help!” he called out but only gurgles left his mouth. He couldn’t recognise his own voice. It was nothing more than a pointless babble, noises without meaning.

That wasn’t right. With shaking hands, he touched his face. It was cut in several places but nothing major. His jaw was still attached to his face. But breathing was getting hard. He could hardly take in air.

His hand moved to his neck, catching on a strange protrusion. Immeasurable pain flashed through his being. It pulsed in his veins as he felt his life ebbing away. He was dying.

The realisation should have terrified him but instead it brought peace. It would be all over. Screams even now tormenting his ears, pain driving him mad and the knowledge that he had lost. Something had interfered with his plans, destroyed them until there was nothing left.

As he thought that, a shadow above caught his attention. It most likely was just a hunting bird, but in his dazed gaze it looked like a boy. Little golden haired monster.

It flew to him through a mist of blurriness. Marion had a hard time keeping his eyes open. Was there a smile on that angelic face? He squinted to see better but another shadow blocked his vision.

This was larger, and closer. Man with a giant sabre held in both his hands. He raised them to take a swing and Marion closed his eyes.

He left with a childlike giggle resounding in his mind.