There’s still about an hour before the sun rises. The royal wizards cleared the fog which covered the city, revealing to the whole population what awaits them. Even though the sun hasn’t risen yet, the city is no longer covered in darkness, the ambient light is slowly overpowering it.

Hundreds of Enforcers are walking around the city, instructing everyone to gather the dead and put them on carts going to the city’s graveyard. Old and young, men, women, and children alike are crying as they put their loved ones on the carts. Some of the dead are carefully placed on the cart, others are just thrown on like a sack of potatoes. The carts move with haste throughout the city, as they are trying to finish their tasks as quickly as possible and prepare for what the day will bring.

There are a few that follow the procession, carrying their dead themselves, to give the respect and last rites to their loved ones, even if that means putting themselves into danger. I slowly follow the procession with a cloth covered bundle in my arms.

It’s one thing when you see dead, or someone speaks about the dead. But it’s totally different when someone dies in your arms, and you can feel as the body of the person you cared for slowly grows cold.

How the living become the dead.

The whole procession just flashed through my eyes, and before I knew it, I stood in open terrain, outside the city walls with a huge forest nearby. The people who pulled the carts with the dead start throwing the bodies onto the quickly growing mountains around the graveyard. The gravediggers gather together with everyone in the center of the graveyard. They take out their shovels and start digging a single mass grave.

Others that decide to bury their loved one themselves, pick spots and start digging small, shallow graves. I walk further in the direction of the forest and find a place where there are no graves and softly put the bundle on the ground. In some happy fairy tale I would find a healer, or somehow revive the dead person, and after that we would live happily ever after.

But real life is different.

It was always different. Because the bundle will continue to stay dead.

Bundle….

She has a name. The name I gave her.

Luna.

Luna didn’t do anything, she didn’t deserve this. Why does a dark creature like me, continue to live? While the innocent and pure ones die every day?

Where is the righteousness on this?

Why?

TELL ME FUCKER!!

WHY DOES LIFE WORK THIS WAY!?

I KNOW THAT YOU’RE THERE!!!

If HE exists, then so do you.

Explain to me! WHY?

Why did she have to die…

What about you? Why are you silent? Where are the accusations? Where is the blame? Why are you so silent?

SAY SOMETHING!

[What do you want to hear?]

[She is dead. She died because of us, because she was with us.]

Is that all? After everything, this is all you can say?

[WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT FROM ME?! SHE IS DEAD!! DEAD BECAUSE OF US!!!]

[Why do you continue to torture me? What did I ever do to you? What did I do to deserve this? Why do you continue to make me experience this horror without the possibility to change anything? Again and again. This nightmare that never ends.]

[Why did you take her with us? Why did you make me experience what warmth is? Something so pure, so innocent. Why did you show it to me so you could just take it away, just a few moments later?]

[WHY?!]

[Leave me alone.]

[I have suffered enough.]

[You made me suffer enough.]

Please, someone, say something, anything, or this silence will swallow me whole.

As if a puppet possessed, I start digging a grave with my bare hands, my cracked fingernails cutting deep into the hard earth. Slowly the pit in the ground increases in size and I try my best to ignore the droplets falling into the pit from my face.

It’s just sweat. Only sweat.

Before I know it, the grave is ready. It’s even bigger than the size required for someone so small. About a meter in length, nearly the same in depth, and about a half-meter in width.

Tiny.

Cries of crows catch my attention, a murder is circling the small mountain of bodies in the center of the graveyard, the ones to be buried in the mass grave. I turn back to the grave and the bundle lying near it. I slowly pick up the bundle and tenderly open it to reveal a small white face. I start to softly caress the face that feels unforgivably cold. Just a few hours ago she was smiling, those sweet eyes looked at me, in expectation, in hope, as if I could make everything come true.

But those eyes have shut forever.

I am not someone who deserves those eyes, that look.

Never deserved, and never will.

Just a cockroach that survived too many times.

I tenderly kiss Luna’s forehead knowing full well, that this is the last time I will touch her. I caress her head one last time. The body slowly descends down.

I sit on my knees before the small pit, looking down on Luna’s face. Unimaginable force compels me to take her out of the pit, it screams that this is just an illusion and that she’s alive, that any moment she will open her eyes and smile back at me with the same happy and innocent smile she showed me again and again. But only now do I truly realise how much those smiles were worth. If I knew how much was left I would cherish every single second.

But the truth is hard.

With my hands I slowly start to pour the earth back into the grave. Luna’s body is slowly being swallowed by the earth, as if submerged into it. Until it stop when only her face is visible. My hands become hard and immobile.

Pictures of Luna’s decomposing body flash across my vision, showing the grotesque scene, as skin and flesh rot away, leaving bones, which disappear soon after. I jump into the grave, brushing aside the earth from her body and clutching her into my embrace. But she’s still cold as ice and her limbs sway, as if they belong to a doll. I sit in the grave for some time, hot tears streaming down my face, screaming in hate and powerlessness.

I wish I could blame someone for this. The life that forced this situation on me, the whole city for the hate it shows to demi-humans, the adventurers and corrupt guards that attacked me yesterday evening, the group of assassin that attacked after that, the accursed creature that shot the arrow.

But in the end it all returns to me.

My decisions, my actions, my mistakes.

I don’t know how long it’s been, but I continue to sit in the grave with Luna in my arms. The rising sun starts to cast a few sparse beams of direct sunlight across the graveyard. I place Luna back into the grave and crawl out of it. My trembling hands start pouring the earth over Luna, and the ground slowly swallows her.

She was mine.

The Blood Brotherhood saved many, but they were always the responsibility of the Brotherhood. I saved them and said goodbye, again and again. People were only something in passing to me, like shadows, the wind, or trees, you see them once and forget them instantly, as you will see many more, nearly the exact same.

I saved Luna.

I took Luna.

I lost Luna.

The tiny hill of earth in front of me is the only thing which will remain in this world to prove that Luna existed. No one will know who is buried underneath. They won’t care who she was or what she meant. No one will know how sweet and innocent she was. I am the last proof, the last person who will remember her. And after I leave this place, she will be alone, again. She will continue to lie here in solitude forever.

Sorry Luna. If the afterlife exists we may meet very soon.

The only people left in the graveyard are the workers digging the mass grave, and me, sitting in front of the tiny hill. I take a long, thick stick and plunge it near the tiny hill, to signify there is a person buried here. My eyes stay rooted to the hill, imagining her small body being pressed down by the ground over her.

The sound of a shovel hitting ground makes me slowly look in the direction it came from. I find several dozen people in black cloaks standing near the mass grave, but with no gravediggers around anymore. Must be some kind of help. My head starts to turn back, but the sound of quick footsteps coming closer makes my head freeze. A single person in a black cloak is walking in my direction and cursing, as his friends start forming a circle. The cursing guy stops in front of me and looks at me with disgust, he takes out a short dagger.

“Fucking cunts, just you wait… What the fuck are you staring at, trash?”

The dagger in his hand flashed towards my neck, but is stopped by my hand. His confused face is quickly replaced by a pained expression as his arm is ripped out with the loud sound of bones breaking and fleshing ripping apart. The heap of screaming flesh lying near my legs continues to howl, as rare curses about me escape his mouth. My left foot moves and crushes his skull, quieting the creature down forever.

Death awaits those that practice death.

Aren’t you going to say that I should’ve accepted the dagger? That I deserve it? That it would be a fast end?

Why are you silent?

Say something.

Please.

Looking in the direction of the group, I find most of them still in the circle, focused on something, while a few others are standing in front of them looking back at me with weapons drawn. I stand and await the next attackers, but nothing happens. They just continue to stand there. Suddenly, several bodies twitch and start moving in the small mountain near the group, slowly being followed by more and more, until the mountain of bodies starts crawling like a heap of centipedes.

Necromancers.

I’ve seen a few necromancers powerful enough to resurrect about a few dozen, but hundreds is a totally different story.

Wait.

Squinting my eyes, I finally notice that nearly everyone is the group of black hooded attackers has a magical item in hand, either a skull, grimoire, or a small staff. But more importantly, in the center of the group some kind of purple rock is lying the ground emitting ambient mana. A group of necromancers? It can’t be. They work alone, too prideful and arrogant to even consider cooperation with anyone. But it’s hard to deny, there’s even a magical stone overflowing with mana.

But still the speed is unbelievable, something that creatures like them could brag about. Less than ten seconds have passed but the hills of dead around the graveyard start crawling apart and slowly stand in front of the cloaked group, as if protecting them. The huge crowd of undead is just standing in front of the necromancers, immobile, as if they were statues. The ground in front of them starts to shift as several severely decomposed bodies start crawling out from under the ground. Before I knew it, the number of undead had quadrupled.

A few of the undead rushed in my direction with inhuman agility and speed. As they come close enough, my sword splits them apart and their rotting innards fall out, littering the ground. But this isn’t the end. The undead closest to me, which was split apart horizontally, start to crawl in my direction with his hands as his lower body continues running around aimlessly.

One of the most underestimated properties of the undead is the fact that their limbs will continue to move, even if the main body of the undead is destroyed. Only be separating all of the limbs can you disable the undead. After that either the necromancer will stop pumping mana into it, or the man in the body will dissipate, which may take several hours or days. I’ve seen limbs of undead killed days earlier, crawling to adventurers and attacking them in their sleep. The first time experiencing it is unforgettable.

I stand still, await the next attack. They’ll either send small groups to tire me out, or all of them at once to overwhelm me. The latter choice having better odds. Suddenly, something grabs my ankle and I instinctively swing my leg, trying to get whatever latched onto my ankle. Something small, dressed in rags falls several meters away from me. It starts to slowly crawl in my direction, making guttural noises. My body freezes as I recognize what just fell in front of me.

I swing my head, looking back at the tiny grave trying to deny it, trying to maintain my sanity as best I can. But I find the tiny hill unearthed, as if someone crawled out of it. My head slowly turns back to the front, as I see the small rag crawling in my direction. The rag falls off, and what’s left is a small girl with black and white hair crawling to me. The sweet and innocent smile replaced with a loosely open mouth with froth coming out of it. The sky blue eyes filled with curiosity are no more, their place taken by a corrupted abomination of them, riddled with black veins.

No.

The sword falls out of my hand as my knees hit the ground.

Why?

Luna continues to crawl in my direction as the guttural growls intensify. My trembling hand stretch to her and slowly pick her up, tenderly pressing her against her chest as she starts thrashing around. Cold tears start to stream down my face as I try to hug her, but the only result I get is teeth biting into my neck.

Why?

The blood flowing down my neck doesn’t stop me as I continue trying to hug Luna, or what’s left of her.

Left of her.

This is not her.

I detach the small body from myself and pin her to the ground as the thrashing increases. My huge palms squeeze the tiny neck until an audible crack is heard, but the body continues to thrash around, gurgling something.

Tears continue streaming down my face.

I’ve killed her. And right now I am desecrating her dead body. Loud sobs escape my mouth.

A series of laughs coming from behind the crown makes me slowly look away from Luna.

“This never gets old. The faces they make when their loved ones attack them. Just thinking about it makes me hard.”

“Killed by trash, how incompetent could Lars be? Well he’s dead, so it doesn’t matter.”

“We need to finish it faster, we’re behind schedule.”

Luna’s body stops moving and fall limp. My hands slowly detach from her tiny neck. Her body is covered in dirt, while blood and froth seep from her mouth. But my eyes are focused on her neck, the huge dark mark where I put my hands.

My palms.

Several of the undead rush in my direction, gurgling. Tears continue to fall as I look into Luna’s dead eyes. My sobs are replaced with sinister animalistic growls as a black sheet covers my eyes.

…

I don’t know how much time has passed as my mind continues to drift in a sea of endless darkness until my eyelids slowly open. Assaulted by bright light, my eyes initially protest, but after just a few seconds they calm down. My view is divided between two contrast areas, bright blue and white, which occupies the upper part, and brownish red in the lower part. Slowly the sharpness of the image before me increases and I see the details.

Mountains of body parts, hands, legs, and heads, all lying around with different colour tones, belonging to different people. Many of the limbs continue to twitch and thrash around, a few of the heads near me have their jaws clenching and unclenching, trying to bite my legs.

There is only one creature in the world that is capable of such violence.

And that creature is me.

My body screams in pain, but I simply ignore it as if something unimportant. With a groan I stand up and look around, but the only thing I see is an endless sea of limbs and gore. Not so far from me, my eyes find a torso in a black cloak with a head and a single arm still attached. The face is petrified in horror. The same expression I have seen many, many times. Looking around I find a few more black cloaks, or at least what was left of them.

Sharp and cold pain in my chest makes me look down to check if there is something embedded in it.

But there is nothing.

There is another reason for the pain.

I start looking around, shoving limbs around, trying to find her, even if it’s just a tiny part, something I can see, something I can bury. But there is nothing. Just thousands upon thousands of body parts, guts, and innards, several hills of them. I could spend days here in search and still find nothing.

How much time do I actually have left? Will I be awake long enough to finish it?

No.

It doesn’t matter, I don’t need much, but I can’t postpone it any longer.

I couldn’t even give her a proper burial. I couldn’t even give her that much.

I’m coming Luna.

Just a bit more. If there is an afterlife, we will see each other soon. If there is heaven and hell, then it’s unlikely we won’t ever meet again.

Because someone like you could never end up in the same place as a creature like me.

I stand up and start walking in the direction of the city.

Brothers. I am coming.

…

My screaming legs continue to move, slowly but steadily they carry me through the city. The sun already rose and it shines down on the destruction, the burnt and destroyed buildings, and the looters trying to find anything valuable in the empty buildings. Some always try to find profit even in the worst possible situation. And war is the single most profitable business in the world, nothing else can even remotely compare to it.

I continue to walk down the main road, which is nearly dead silent. Only a few more looters and several people were running up the main road, to the evacuation point most likely. I suddenly stop in front of the burnt building, with a musky burnt smell still hanging in the air. I recognize the brothel and the building across from it. The inn in which we stayed.

I slowly walk over the burnt wooden planks, not even understanding I stop in front of a small hill covered with burnt wooden planks. My hands shift the planks, revealing a metal chest. Opening the chest I find several tiny dresses and shoes, the ones I bought for Luna. My shaking hands pick up a single white dress, which Luna especially liked, and brought it closer to my face. Her soft laugh, her voice, I can hear them in my head.

“Daddy.”

Luna’s smell coming from it breaks my stupor, as even the burnt smell can’t fully make the soft and tender fragrance disappear. My tears start streaming down my face again as I try to hungrily capture what’s left of Luna. But it disappears as quickly as it appeared. I should’ve buried this with her, she liked it so much.

But she’s dead, and it won’t change. I tie the tiny, white cloth around my left wrist and continue walking.

Just a bit more.

I walk for about ten more minutes until I’m stopped by a group of heavily equipped guards. At first they took out their weapons, as if prepared to attack, but the older guard stopped them with some kind of hand gesture. He slowly approaches me and his eyes scan me until they stop at my left hand. He takes a few steps closer and looks at the cloth on my left wrist. In a quiet and solemn voice says

“I am sorry for your loss.”

Coming closer he puts both hands on my shoulders and looks into my eyes.

“You need to get the evacuation point, the Paletians will attack soon.” after a small pause he adds, “Your loved ones would want you to survive.”

He releases my shoulders and give an order to one of the younger guards.

“Guide him.”

The ground starts to shake as hundreds of rider on horses in plate armour ride across the street, until they stop a few meters in front of us. A single rider in golden plate armour comes up to us, showing a beautifully chiseled face under his open helmet, looks down at us from his horse with a disgusted look.

“Why are you here?”

The older guard standing in front of him gives a bow with his fist to his chest.

“Your Highness, we have been cleaning the streets from the undead coming from the north graveyard, the necromancers may still be here.”

“What about the south graveyard? Still no news?”

“No Your Highness. I have sent two of my men there, but they have not returned yet.”

The rider turns to me, sneering, and commands.

“Remove that from here. Battle will start soon.” he motioned to me with his nose.

The moment he finishes a huge fireball hits him in the side. The horse didn’t even have time to respond or react at all as it fell on its side with her rider. The horse’s burned body lying on the ground with half of its torso missing represents the power of the spell. The rider stands up, wobbling, in his nearly undamaged armour and is instantly surrounded by many riders trying to protect him from any more possible attacks.

Magic enchantments do save lives.

Rebuilding the trajectory of the direction where the fireball come from, I find an open balcony on the third floor of a huge building with no one there. The riders scream something to each other while looking around at the building and streets. But the absolute silence of the whole area is instantly changed, as waves of the undead start pouring from the windows and doors of the big building, as if water out of a broken jar.

“Protect the prince!!” one of the knights shouts as they make a wall around him. A group in black walks out of an alley and starts firing spells into the knights from afar, taking one life after another with deadly spells.

Necromancers.

They belong to the same group.

They did it.

Squeezing the sword in my right hand, my blood started boiling in me as mana makes my body move as if a puppet possessed by an evil spirit. I leap into the wall of undead with a guttural roar. Body parts of the undead start flying around as my sword sends more and more of them to rest. As if noticing that something is wrong, the necromancers start firing curses and spells at me, but I simply evade the spells, while the curses hit me head-on and dissipate, bringing horror across the faces of the necromancers.

As soon as I get within a few meters of them, they attempt to retreat and call their undead to help them, but it’s too late. Moments later they’re cleaved in half, crushed and dismembered. They try to huddle together to construct a magical shield, but my sword breaks them like glass. One of them nearly finish a wide range spell, which could deal significant damage to the area. Sadly for him, I’m faster, my thrown sword sails across to him, until it plunges through his body and the pure force of it carries him across the street to a wall, until he collides with and destroys the building in the process.

I turn to the ones that are left and one by one end them with my bare hands, ignoring their pleas for mercy, crushing the skulls of the ones crawling away, grabbing the necks of the next ones that are attacking and squeezing them till I hear their necks break.

“Monster.” the last one whispers.

I slowly walk towards her as she starts to chant a prayer to her dark gods on her knees. The green horrified eyes on her pretty porcelain face, stares back at me in defiance. Her chant becomes louder as I grab her skull. The chant ends the moment my hand clenches, a loud pop is heard, a body falls to the ground, limp, spilling the reddish contents of her skull across the street.

This must be all.

I look at the white piece of cloth on my left wrist, which is already fully covered in blood. Bringing it to my face I try to catch the last bits of Luna, but it’s already been replaced by the smell of iron.

There is nothing left.

I let the cloth go. The cloth slowly falls down and starts absorbing more blood from the ground. Walking to the destroyed wall, I find my sword and pick it up. The utter silence of the area makes me turn in the direction where the knights should be. Did they already leave? But what I find is a wall of knights staring at me with their weapons drawn, point them at me.

Fear.

Nothing new.

“Y-you should have left at least one for interrogation, she was human.” the prince in the golden armour says, no longer looking at me in disgust, but more of caution.

Human?

Or was it because the human was a girl, a pretty girl?

What if she was a demi-human?

What if she was ugly?

What is she was a he?

Would your comment be the same? Before the law everyone is equal. But some are always more “equal”.

Should I kill them too?

Will someone cry over their deaths?

Each of them should have dreams, fears, family, loved ones. Someone may cry over their deaths.

But they won’t cry over Luna.

She was just a mistake. Right?

Just a single, insignificant death. Right?

Who even cares about demi-humans? Right?

One insignificant death in an endless whirlpool of chaos and suffering.

My hand squeezes the sword’s pommel, and violent desires start burning deep within me, but I stop myself.

No. Enough. I am slowly turning into him.

Enough.

I start walking in the direction of the dungeon, ignoring the stares from the crowd of knights. A loud crash makes my feet stop in their tracks and turn towards the sound, it came from the port. The attack started, the ships should have already hit the shore. I should get to the dungeon as fast as I can. The ground troops will move quickly, I have a maximum of about ten minutes before they reach here. An inhuman screech appears suddenly, and quickly increases in volume as it gets closer and closer.

Several groups of flying demi-humans with bows and staves appear from behind the tall building, screeching and coming in this direction.

That’s too fast.

Was there no one to stop them at the port? Where the hell are the guards?

A purple spot lights up on the horizon and rapidly increases in size. Abandoning everything I leap into the alleys, running away, trying to get as far from the main road as possible. A few seconds later, a huge purple beam of light explodes behind me. Turning around, I find the whole main street destroyed, the stone buildings melted and no one except for the avian demi-humans circling around the area where I just was.

A calamity level ritual spell at the very beginning of the siege.

Madness.

The only thing that comes to mind is “Blitzkrieg”. All of the leaders always scoffed at the military tactical ideas brought by the summoned, laughing, and ignoring them. What could have happened for such a major change?

Doesn’t matter.

Sending mana into my barely functional legs, I command them to move once again. Walking through the alleys, I try to evade the main road which could result in a high possibility of needless confrontations. My legs continue to carry me to the dungeon entrance through the empty alleys, through the images of destroyed buildings or dead bodies lying around.

Finally reaching the dungeon plaza, a totally different picture stands in front of me. An ocean of knights and warriors are fighting even more demi-humans in the center of the plaza, with constant barrages of spells from Mages behind the knights and even bigger volleys of arrows from the harpies and gargoyles from the opposite side. The sides collide in blends of gore and violence, the collision walls shift as if a wave, from one side to another, back and forth, again and again. As a wave of knights overwhelms a single point, they start chanting “For the kingdom!”, as soon as the wave switches directions the demi-humans chant “For motherland!” in Patu.

Waves of meat mass struggling against each other, each with dogmas of seething hatred installed deep into their beings. A very different picture happens at the corners of the plaza and the alleys, small groups hunt down their respective enemies, back-stabbing the injured, and running. Not so far from me a wolf-demi human pins down a female knight and rips the armour and clothing from her chest, licking the face of his prey with a wide grin.

“Latar! Not now! You will take her later!” screams a similar looking wolf demi-human near him in Patu.

“No! Humans raped and enslaved our sisters! I will return this debt.” he growls, turning back to his friend. But before he can do anything more, the woman under him takes out a small dagger and with a scream, slices it across his neck, painting herself with his blood.

“Latar!” the other wolf screams before being overwhelmed by a new group of knights.

The female knight throws the dead demi-humans body off of her and tries to stand on her wobbly legs. Trembling she looks around as if trying to understand what is happening. The definition of war finally starts seeping into her.

Welcome.

Suddenly an enormous tremor travels through the ground, making many in the plaza lose their footing. A few seconds later, a huge explosion and cloud of smoke rush out of the dungeon entrance, creating a big hole in the center of the barrier. The barrier starts morphing, trying to repair itself and close the huge hole in its center, but a few seconds later it fall apart with a crack, sending waves of mana around.

An open path.

I was never that lucky.

A trap for sure.

But I don’t have any other option than to meet it head on.

The time standing and observing the battlefield finally bites me back as several demi-humans stealthily try to take my life, like they have done with other in the corners of the plaza before.

Death to those that practice death.

The lives of the attackers come to a quick end as their dismembered bodies quickly fill the alley. Another wave of at least three dozen deadlier looking demi-humans notice me and leap into the alley, trying to take my life. These ones are prepared as they aren’t risking getting too close and use hit-and-run tactics, surrounding me and blocking the escape path.

Every formation has a weakness or it would be called absolute.

But there are not absolute things in this world.

Charging towards a specific direction, the attackers disperse, but my body doesn’t stop and leaping into the closed wooden door I smash through it. The door explodes in a shower of broken planks and splinters. I arrive in a small corridor on the buildings first floor. The attacker follow shortly, only to be impaled by my sword thrust through the dust cloud. Their bodies fall around the entrance, creating a makeshift barricade. I can use the environment too. A few attackers continue to attack, only to be easily killed at the choke point, but most simply try to circle around and find another entrance. They may believe that they have me trapped inside if they block all of the doors, but buildings have several exits.

Running through the building I find the staircase and run up, as the sound of breaking wood and footsteps reach me. The pursuers reach me shortly after, but I already have the high ground and they’ll have to attack one by one through another choke point. As more and more bodies litter the staircase I have to slowly move higher and higher. A few attackers got in from the second floor windows, but I simply climb to the third floor and made the sneaky attackers merge with the main group. Making a stand at the top, I try to hold the position, but the attackers, not willing to sacrifice another life, change strategies and switch to ranged attacks, with a constant volley of arrows coming from the staircase.

Not good.

As my eyes are focus on the staircase, awaiting the next wave of attackers, I notice in the corner of my eye, a huge fireball travelling towards the building. The fireball hits the side wall, sending waves of force and heat across the whole area. The sound of wood breaking comes from the first floor, as the whole building starts slowly tilting. Abandoning everything I command my legs to run as fast as they can in the direction of the nearest window, which happens to have wooden shutters, but I don’t stop and leap right through them, breaking the shutters. In midair I regret my decision as the alley is very narrow, and I end up hitting the wall of the building across the alley. Falling down I hit the cold stone floor with my left side as my ribs creak. Groaning I demands my hands and feet to start moving, trying to get my body up and ready for what is to come. Leaning on the wall I slowly stand up, after which I turn my head to scan the alley and building with my eyes. The whole building became a huge wooden mountain enveloped in flames, while the pursuers are nowhere in sight, most likely buried under the burning, wooden tomb. But I shouldn’t get my hopes up.

Moving my legs one after another, I slowly move through the narrow alley until I exit into a much bigger one. Looking around, my eyes stop on a gruesome sight. Several meters from me two knights in plate armour are sitting in a huge pool of blood. I believe them to be dead and make several steps away, until a quiet whisper reaches my ears. I don’t know why, but my legs stop and turn my around on their own, until I stand in front of the pair and finally hear a quiet chant,

“I am sorry Lara.”

Coming closer a picture I’ve seen many times with the young Brothers, stands before me. A boy in his late teens is sitting in the pool of blood, hugging a girls head with long red hair. The face of the girl in his arm has exactly the same eyes as the boy, empty and dull. His lips continue to move, chanting the same words.

Soul damaged.

Life is hard and unfair. Sometimes it hits people so strongly that they break. The broken may develop severe case of insomnia, caused by never ending nightmares, irrational fears, and many, many more. I encountered quite a few cases when a person would start hallucinating about past events and battles if specific stimulus would be applied, the clash of metal or screams. There are many broken, there wasn’t a Blood Brother who wasn’t broken in one way or another. People adapt, survive, find a way to live with it. I am one such example.

But there are those who are broken beyond repair, they can never return to normal life, they become an empty husk of their former self. Symptoms vary from simple apathy for their own future, to total vegetation, where a person can’t even be able to eat by himself.

There are many factors that affect what fate awaits the soul damaged. Common knights or warriors would most likely be stuck in this state forever. A few lucky ones could heal enough to “exist”, but they will never truly recover.

With Enforcers and Mages things get problematic, as they have many affinities, or bridges to the other side as I call them. Darkness can seep into this world through those affinities, and because of that the affected need to be healed or purified quickly, or “sealed”. It may take some time and effort from many priests, but in the end they may recover. Losing a skilled Enforcer or Mage, unlike a knight or a warrior, would be a tremendous waste of resources and because of that they use any means necessary. And the most popular method is religious indoctrination.

You are not evil. You did nothing wrong. You only followed the will of god.

The Blood Brotherhood is a bit different. Even a tiny chance of being corrupted is unacceptable. A single case a long time ago was enough to make an iron clad rule. Long story short, any soul damaged Brother is instantly "released". I didn't even notice at what point my sword was already on the boy's neck, about to take his life. Old habits die hard.

But he isn't a Blood Brother.

And neither am I.

Just before I decide to remove the sword from the boy's neck and leave, my eyes notice a sinlge thin black vein on his neck. The black vein starts to slowly grow, travelling up and down his body as more and more black veins appear.

So you chose to give up.

I place the tip of my sword on his Adam's apple. Only a thin cloth seperates the tip of the sword and the soft flesh. I slowly move my hand forward. The sword slides into the boy's neck with no resistance whatsoever. Even though blood slowly starts to flow out of the wound, the boy shows almost no reaction. His head tips down, causing more blood to flow down his armour, painting it red. The unmoving body slowly sides to the right and the head of the girl falls out of his hands, rolling away.

Corruption usually takes hours, or days, such speed couldn't be natural, there was something that was desperately trying to make the connection.

In my peripheral vision I catch the sight of the pursuers finally catching up. Deciding not to wait until their numbers swell, I turn in their direction and increase the speed of mana circulation once more, burning down whatever reserves are left in this body. My finger tightly clenches around the hilt as I prepare to leap into the advancing group, to send them to the other side. My body explodes into action like a spring, as my sword plunges into the first enemy's chest, something huge jumps out of the narrow alley and crashes into us, throwing everyone towards the wall. As my body impacts the building's wall, precious air escapes my lungs. Not waiting for the next attack, I command my body to move and leap aside, saving myself in the process as something hits the area I was in a fraction of a second ago.

Using the momentum, I make several rolls and reorient my body, stopping myself with creaking legs. My eyes finally capture the new attacker in full view, a white skeleton, two meters tall, four meters long, with burning green eyes and three horns in a dark cloak staning on all fours, like an animal, stares at me with pure hatred. Its jaw bone opens wide and a high pitched screech comes out of it. A few seconds later the previous attacker's bodies start to move in an unnatural way as they stand up.

Feral Lich.

What the actual fuck?! There are tons of dead near the dungeon entrance, why attack here?

Wait.

It's looking specifically at me. And that hatred is directed.

The fucking lich was corrupting the boy, and I destroyed its new vessel.

Shit.

Fighting a lich and a dozen undead in a narrow alley is a fast ticket to the afterlife.

But who cares?

I'm tired of running around, again and again. I'll be there soon one way or another. Enough time was wasted in the attempt to get the dungeon quietly.

I unyieldingly stare back into the green, burning eyes. Maggots start falling out of its rib cage onto the ground and crawling away. My blood starts to boil as a representation of pure corruption and mindless evil stands before me. The lich charges me with the undead following behind him. Squeezing the sword in my hand, I prepare for the coming attack, but the face of an innocent, smiling girl with black and white hair flashes through my mind, which is nearly instantly replaced by the image of her dead body trying to kill me with the same hateful eyes.

With a roar my body leaps at the enemy, at something that must be destroyed, something that must be erased from existence. My sword swings down vertically with an extreme velocity at the incoming lich's swipe. The sword crushes the limb of the lich and smashes against the ground, sending cracks in all direction away from the impact. But I don't stop, my body moves faster, demanding the destruction of the thing before me. The next swing crashes against the lich's body and throws it against the wall like a doll, but something deep inside of me demands more, much more. With another roar I throw myself at the creature and smash limb after limb. The lich tries to crawl away, ordering the undead to help him, but it's useless, my sword rips them apart, only increasing the power and intensity with which I send the sword crashing into the lich's body. In desperation it sends all of its mana into its bones to reinforce them, and crawl up the building, but I will not allow it to. Grabbing its spine, I throw it against the stone covered ground. It screeches in horror and hatred as my sword lands on its skull, cracking it slightly. Again and again my sword continues the assault, cracking and chipping away more and more if the skull. Ignoring the disappearing light of the eyes in the skull and the bones falling away from the main body, my sword falls again and again, cracking the huge skull more and more until it finally cracks open, like a fruit.

I fell my chest moving up and down, consuming all the air it can grab. Minutes later my chest still rises and fall, hungrily devouring more and more air, as if it's an unsatisfiable beast. Looking down at the crushed and broken bones, which just a few minutes ago were part of a dangerous lich, I continue to desperately devour the air. The ringing in my ears starts to disappear, the utter silence of the alleys contrasts the chaos coming from the main road. My eyes scan the alley, finding it nearly deserted except for the dismembered undead that the lich raised.

Alone in a world of chaos again.

I need to finish this.

My legs and arms scream in pain, telling me that I overused them, but I simply block the feeling. As a dictator I demand their absolute obedience, and with a small hitch they start moving again, carrying me towards the dungeon.

Enough.

I exit the alley and come into the dungeon plaza from a different direction. The tides changed and now the area is generally overwhelmed by the Paletian army, which now consists of more sub-species than before. More and more demi-humans pour into the plaza as they chant "For motherland." Small groups are running around with spears and finishing any human who's still breathing on the ground. As the group comes near me, I finally notice that it consists of kids, barely under fifteen. One of them leaps at the warrior in leather armour who crawling away and begging for help, and plunges the spear into his back with a scream.

"DIE THIEVES! WE WILL TAKE BACK THE MOTHERLAND!"

Well, he's not wrong. This area belonged to demi-humans a very, very long time ago. It was actually their place of origin, but after the inter-continental war they were "displaced."

The small group continues to walk around and kill the fleeing, until they come to a boy about their age with missing legs, crawling away with one hand. They start plunging their spears into his back as he cries for help, for them to stop, but they continue to assault and torture him with shouts of delight and crazed eyes. Their fun is ended shortly by my sword, which cuts them apart one by one. They try to run away, but I don't give them the opportunity.

A female demi-human appears in my peripheral vision with a sword coming in the direction of my skull, with a small movement I evade the attack and counter attack. As her arms split apart at the elbows, a high-pitched scream escapes her, notifying everyone around that an enemy is near. My sword plunges through her eye socket, silencing her forever. More and more demi-humans attack, but they simply follow the fate of the previous attackers as I make my way through them in the direction of the dungeon entrance.

A huge fireball exploding a dozen meters away from me makes me stop in my tracks. My eyes catch a levitating red cloak as more and more fireballs rain down on the plaza. Demi-humans start running away, trying to escape the rain of fire, but their stampede does the opposite, as many are simply trampled to death.

After half a minute of the assault, the cloaked person lands on the ground, a man in his early thirties, barely able to stand straight, breathing heavily. He takes out a blue vial and chugs it down as the red glow returns to him. As if possessed, he starts throwing fireball at the army of demi-humans, burning them to charcoal as his hysterical laugh sounds across the plaza. His glow starts slowly decreasing again after which he chugs another vial that he took out of his cloak. The glow one more returns to him, but this time blood starts flowing out of his ears, eyes, and mouth, as he continues to fling fireballs randomly. His figure slows down as his coughs are quickly replaced with choking.

After a series of attempts to take a breath, he stops moving and falls to the ground.

Overdose.

As if on queue, more and more people start pouring into the plaza from both sides, but this time the tide switch from demi-humans to humans, as they slowly overwhelm the attackers. Many generals in lavish plate armour show up, rallying the warriors and charging into the meat grinder itself. More and more hills of dead appear at the plaza. About a tenth of the whole plaza is already littered with dead bodies.

And the dead will soon have one more addition.

I resume my walk towards the dungeon entrance directly through the meat grinder's center, dodging when needed and countering when required. The path is littered with dead from both sides, and I add more ever single exchange, sending every enemy who dared to attack to the afterlife. After many long minutes, I finally reach the stairs leading to the entrance. The guards stationed on the top of the stairs are fighting the few brave one that try to reach the top, but it's hard to call it a fight, as most of the attackers are simply thrown off the stairs. As I make several steps up the stairs, a unison of screeches explodes out of the dungeon entrance. At least a dozen feral liches pour out, attacking anyone they can find, they crush, throw, and rip the guards apart, until the top is only occupied by the liches. After a few seconds a single elder lich appears, floating about a meter above the ground and nearly twice the size of a feral lich, its blue, burning eyes scan the area until they stop on me for a few long seconds. The elder lich points it bony finger at me as its jaws open slightly, and in an ethereal voice whispers "Kill". The next instant all of the feral liches turn in my direction and screech in pure hatred, as if they found their ultimate enemy.

More and more obstacles.

After another union of screeches, they start running down the stairs on all fours, as if wild animals in a frenzy, trampling every single thing in their path. They reach me within seconds, but I don't wait for their attack. Pumping my mana circulation to the limit, I leap into their midst, bringing my sword down on the first lich's skull, crushing it and sending cracks across the stairs in the process. Not waiting for anything, I swing the sword to the left, trying to destroy in the next one, but the sword meets with an arm raised in defense, crushing it in the process, but the momentum was already lost, and only a single crack appears on the seconds lich's skull. The lich screeches back as if laughing, but I don't get time to react as something hits me from behind hits me in the side, launching me into the air. The air time is short, but the distance I travel is nothing like that. My body impacts the ground and starts rolling on its side, but my instincts scream to evade whatever is coming. Thrusting the sword into the floor, I redirect my body just in time as two liches land where I was a moment ago. The other liches start running in my direction as more and more undead rise around me.

Fighting a horde of liches in the middle of an inter-continental battlefield...

As the liches are about to reach me, several yellow beams cut through the space around them, and the image of their melting bones is quickly replaced by silence and their ashes being blown away by the wind. Turning in the direction of the yellow beam's origin, I find a group in colourful armour with a huge aura around them, visible even to the naked eye, walking in the direction of the human army. One of them gives me a silent nod with a smile on his face.

Heroes.

Paletia's army starts to retreat, trying to save themselves from the onslaught of devastating spells, but it only results in the knights and warriors slicing through the retreating army like a knife through hot butter.

This is what heroes are. Their mere presence instantly shifts the state of the battle. A single spell from them and creatures which could take hundreds, thousands of lives disappear in an instant, leaving naught but ashes behind.

Gods amoungst men.

About a hundred knights in white and read armour, with a golden insignia on their chests, walk through the endless sea of warriors, as the later ones step aside and make a path for them. The knights arrive beside the heroes with their chins held high, basking in the fear people around them have, as if the events that just happened are the results of their work.

The "new" Blood Brotherhood.

I'm not sure if it's punishment of fate itself for our crimes, to have us all killed and the replacements to be exactly the opposite of what we were aspiring for. Our ideals turned inside out, and the resulting abomination taking our place as if it rightfully belonged to them.

Fate, you bitch, you have the most twisted sense of humour out there.

The ground starts trembling as the sound of very heavy footsteps become louder and louder. Suddenly it becomes very quiet as all eyes turn in the direction of the demi-human army and the origin of the footsteps. Five giants, which are at least a hundred meters tall, are walking through the city, destroying any building in their path, stomping any enemy who dared to attack them. The kingdom's knights and warriors begin whispering between themselves and after commands from their leaders, start retreating even faster than the Paletian army when the heroes arrived.

A dozen warriors walk out of the retreating demi-human army, their tribal armour shining brightly and not losing out the heroes one bit. They continue to walk forward, taking out their weapons, as their auras start shining even brighter. All of the heroes take out their weapons, and start slowly walking in the direction of the new arrivals. Their auras shining brightly as they come closer to each other, until they stop about fifty meters from each other. The whole plaza is submerged into absolute silence as the parties continue to stand and stare at each other. Only the footsteps of the giants, reminding everyone that time is slowly moving, are heard.

I'm sure that this is a point that will go into the annals of not just this kingdom's history, but the world's. For me though, this is just another useless, over-glorifed bar fight. My eyes finally leave the new Brotherhood, who are standing about a dozen meters behind the heroes, and I start climbing the stairs with my barely moving legs. They scream in protest, as each step I take feels as if I was walking on burning coals which have razor sharp nails in them, but I simply block the feelings in my legs again. Alas, my thoughts still return to the Brotherhood, one of the not many things I truly cared about, no matter how many times I try to swat the thought away.

It doesn't matter anymore.

This is no longer my world, but theirs.

"Hello, fellow summoned." a young, loud voice from behind says.

My legs stop at the very last step of the stairs. The emptiness that filled my mind made my body stop in a stupor.

"Summoned?"

Turning my face back, I take a closer look at the party which came from the demi-humans army. Their auras shining just brightly as the heroes.

It can't be.

The method for summoning was lost by all except the Empire, and only because the elders took great steps to ensure that it would never be lost.

Did they restore the method themselves?

Replicated it?

Or simply stole it?

But if demi-humans were able to, maybe other will...

Enough. It doesn't concern me.

In a flash, the parties explode into action, crashing to each other as powerful spells are thrown around, destroying the buildings and changing the terrain of the plaza. Each one of them finding an enemy as if on queue, switching between one on one and group on group, while the Brotherhood supports them with simple blood spells. The whole thing looks like a battle of angry gods. Everyone else simply runs away into the alleys, trying to hide from the incoming spells, hoping that a stray one won't hit them.

Some things don't change.

I resume my torturous walk to the dungeon's entrance, moving one trembling leg after another, and the moment I stand before a huge arc, the actual dungeon entrance, something hits a nearby column with high velocity. The column explodes into a cloud of grey and black dust as it falls apart. The sound of someone groaning and coughing comes from inside the could, a second later a person's silhouette stands up and starts walking in my direction. A very pale female from the Empire hero group, with white hair and yellow hair appears out of the dust cloud, wiping blood off of her mouth with her hand. She looks in my direction and grins toothily. The female hero disappears as if an illusion, and a sudden impact throws me into a column as air escapes my lungs.

"Juicy one. So much mana in a dry skeletal body like that."

Something clamps at my neck as I fell man and blood escaping my body. Sounds of delight escape her as she continue to suck energy out of my barely moving body. A huge desire to sleep starts to close my eyes, until they are fully closed.

Maybe meeting my end like this will be enough.

Killed by a random hero who sucked the energy out of me like-

Images of thousands of children sexually abused, sucked dry of blood and eaten alive flash through my mind, their screams for help and wails of pain, me stanind in an endless sea of tiny bodies.

No.

Not like this.

NOT LIKE THIS.

With a roar my eyes open as my hands clamp around the robs of the accursed blood sucker. The audible cracks of bone are heard as she jolts in confusion and stops sucking. With monstrous strength, my jaws clamp around the neck of the white haired hero. She opens her mouth and tries to scream, but my jaws squeeze her neck with so much force that she can't even breathe. Her limbs flail around uselessly, trying to get herself away from me. Her sharp claws dig into my back in desperation, trying to do any damage she can, but strength slowly leaves her limbs. The blood from her artery has been dripping down my chin for sometime, but most of it goes down my throat, replenishing what little mana was left in me. Sides change as I start sucking her dry, draining whatever liquid there is in the body that lays in my arms.

My vision blurs as unimaginable strength crushes my very being and sends me flying through two columns. I desperately try to command my body to move, but my eyes already caught the sight of a huge burning sun descending on me, sending me to a world of indescribable pain as my skin and flesh melts away. I feel as my body is burnt to a crisp, even the piece of flesh I ripped from the hero.

In desperation I send mana to block all of my senses, after which a world of total darkness and numbness descends on me. In this dark and empty void I slowly send mana burst, trying to assess the status of my body. When the review finishes a few seconds later I'm presented with a simple answer.

This is the end.

There is nearly no mana left in this empty husk of a body. Nearly every single organ is ruptured beyond repair. The burns on my back are so severe that there is nothing except boens and muscles left there. Toxins from the burns are already seeping into my flesh, poisoning the ruptured organ beneath them.

I won't be able to heal it.

This is it.

I may be able to squeeze a few minutes out, but that's the limit.

I won't make it to the volcano in time.

If destruction is what the world wants, then that is what it will get.

I will drag as many of you to hell as I can.

Stopping the healing attempts, I send mana into my body to reinforce my last demands.

Pain and feeling return, telling me that I'm not dead yet. The trembling limbs start moving and I stand up. My left eye went fully blind as I can't see even a spec of light. I send mana into my cursed, right eye, to at least orient myself. In the smoke I find my sword near the melting rocks, and try to grab it with a trembling hand, but I fail over and over again, the muscles aren't listening to me. Sending mana into the tendons and muscles, I grab the sword with a death grip.

As I walk out of the smoke I find the two summoned parties in some kind of stalemate, looking at each other and speaking about something. My feet start to move, carrying me down the stairs. When the discussion ends shortly, they look in my direction in total silence. I continue my descent as their eyes do not leave me.

My right eye is blurry and can't tell me what the atmosphere is like exactly. But somehow, I can feel two distinctive feelings present in the air.

Fear and disgust.

A deep laugh from my left makes my neck slowly turn until I see a silhouette of a huge demi-human standing near the Paletian heroes walking in my direction.

"I am the luckiest person alive! The FUCKING Inquisitor himself!"

The silhouette starts moving in my direction, faster than any human ever could, when he's about ten meters away he leaps and screams

"Your life is mine!"

As his sword is about to reach me, my hand moves and his body and sword split in half, spraying me with blood and innards as his body travels further, hitting the stairs, painting them in blood.

There shouldn't be any clothes covering me, but I'm not even sure how the symbol of the Brotherhood is visible through the burnt flesh.

But it doesn't matter.

Not waiting for the next attack, my eyes scan the area and find the silhouette of the white haired hero lying on the found with what looks like a healer and wizard in red near her. What stands between her and me is another hero with a scythe and the Blood Brotherhood, their weapons drawn in what looks like a defensive stance. Forcing my limbs to obey my demands I start moving again, to which everyone around reacts by tensing up. A single person comes out of the crowd of the new Brotherhood, with a delighted toothy smile, and points his weapon in my direction announcing loudly with a smile.

"The cursed heretic. You have finally showed your treacherous soul. By the order of the Emperor, and my power as Inquisitor, you are sentenced to death. We-"

"Imposters." the unexpectedly ghastly voice coming from me interrupts him. "Fakes."

His smile breaks and is instantly replaced with a scowl.

"You will regret it cursed rat!" he screams, as the members of the new Brotherhood leap at me, only to be cleaved by my sword one by one.

The next instant the whole group surrounds me and attacks, screaming with voices full of hatred. I take the upper body of the previous attack lying near me, and throw at at the incoming enemy. Distracted by the body part of his comrade, he doesn't see my descent or the sword that ends his life. In a rage I throw myself at one enemy after another, pumping more and more of what little mana is left into my limbs. Every spell is evaded, every attack is countered, every trap is broken before they can set it up. I rip their bodies apart, crush their skulls, not holding back even a thread of my strength, littering the area with their dismembered bodies.

"Pathetic." the ghastly voice whispers as I crush the skull of another moaning fake.

Their inexperience and weakness exceeding even my worst expectation. I thought that they at least gathered strong ones, but it's just a facade. A group of actors using our names as if they earned it.

The new "Inquisitor" tried to cast several mid-tier blood spells, only for them to be countered instantly. He doesn't even know the weaknesses of those spells, nor where and how to use them.

Pathetic.

The leader roars in response as he tries to cast the next spell, only to be interrupted by my sword and was sent flying a dozen meters away. Innumerable enchantments on his armours created and impenetrable barrier around his neck just a moment before my sword could cleave it in half. I try to take another step and finish the sad excuse of a warrior, but my leg freezes, as if it was a solid rock. The flesh and muscle in the leg stops responding to all attempts to make it move, as if it was dead. My vision starts to slowly narrow as if being slowly submerged into darkness.

No.

NO!

Just a bit longer.

A tiny bit more.

The new Inquisitor groans and stands up, taking out several transparent potions. He gulps them down in one go, after which his manic laugh sounds across the plaza as a huge red aura bursts out of him.

"Die remnant of the past!" he screams as he leaps at me.

Pathetic.

Redirecting mana from my leg into my arm, and using the fact that my legs are frozen solid, the sword falls down crushing the foe against the marble floor, creating cracks around the epicenter. His eyes stare into empty space, not understanding what happened. The huge cut from his right shoulder to stomach starts bleeding heavily as the red aura slowly disperses.

A moment later a hero appears above me with his scythe descending down towards me. Abandoning any attempt to evade the attack as my leg wouldn't budge, I half-block, reorienting the path of the scythe. The scythe passes my face by a paper-thin margin, but I don't give the hero even a moment to realise that, as my sword is already falling down in an attempt to cleave the hero's neck, only for his enchanted armour to create several magic shields which explode on contact with the sword and send me flying a dozen meters away.

I crash against the floor, and after a few twirls, plunge the sword into the floor and stop the travel sharply, ending on my knees. The hero with the scythe looks at me in horror, as the fact that he nearly died finally sinks into him.

Heroes always have this illusion that they can't die, as if they're immortal.

As I attempt to use my sword and arms to stand up, my whole body freezes. Muscles start to tremble as blood begins to leak from my mouth and eyes, telling me that there are only a few breaths left.

Truly pathetic.

I look at the heroes and say something that I should have said at the very beginning, maybe then it wouldn't have ended this way.

Maybe then Luna would have been alive.

"V-a-i l-a-y" my voice whispers.

Taking another breath, I repeat the phrase in the language of the summoned.

"V-e-i l-a-i" I repeat, coughing out a glob of blood at the end.

My eyes trail the trajectory of the glob until it hits the ground, merging with all the blood on the marble floor. But the glob starts to slowly move, as if it was alive. Trailing it's path, I notice that it's not the only thing moving. All of the blood starts to flow in waves in a single direction, as if a river, until they come to the body of the new Inquisitor and disappear into it. His body melts into a red goo and a huge face appears out of the goo, as if trying to escape. In the next instant, the face disappears and all the red goo gathers into a small bundle, out of which limbs break out of. A creature with humanoid features, barely half a meter in height steps out of the goo. Its blood red eyes open wide and start looking around until they stop on me. The moment its eyes meet mine, an inhuman screech escapes it and within a second it grows into a four meter tall, sleek creature with razor sharp claws and fangs.

A smile breaks across my face at the appearance of the avatar.

Fuck you fate.

Death by blood avatar.

Very ironic for a Blood Brother.

Fuck you, you goddamned bitch.

The next instant the creature leaps at me with a speed exceeding any possible biological limits. I try to send mana into my body, to move my hand with the sword and block the lunge, but I know full well that it's useless. A moment later I'm sent flying through the air. It could be poetic, me sailing through the air at a ridiculous speed, as wind blows around my body, of course it was, until my back hit something, again, and again, and again. Expecting the impact I blocked all of the feeling left in my body and the only thing I could perceive was the change in scenery and the total lack of response from some of my internal organs.

My eye slowly blinks and tries to scan the surroundings, but everything is blocked by rubble and dust clouds. The only thing I can see, lying on my side on the cobble stone floor, is the silhouette of destroyed buildings. The creature of blood appears out of the dust cloud and scowling, voices extreme discontent at my survival with a very high pitched screech. Grabbing me by my right foot the creature swings me around, at the ground, the walls, as if I was a cloth being whipped around. Finally it throws me at the nearby building and my body passes through several wooden walls as they explode in clouds of splinters.

Blinking several times, my eye tries to determine where I am, but the only thing I see is a totally new open square and stone cobble floor. I don't know the strength comes from but by my command the limbs starts moving as they visibly tremble. Wobbling on my legs and using the sword, which is still in my right hand's death grip, I stand. Slowly turning around my gaze meets the blood creature's. I'm suddenly lifted up as hands made of blood squeeze my neck.

The creature snarls something incoherent for a few seconds until I'm suddenly released and fall to my knees like a sack of potatoes. The creature screams in pain as I take a few shallow breaths and notice there's a huge purple gem coming out of its chest. The gem starts shining brightly as the form of the creature ripples and turns back to a blob of blood. The blood avatar tries to reform several times into wild animals and species but it continues to break apart and returns back to the blob form.

A person in white plate armour appears from thin air with a sword swung towards my face, reacting by pure instinct, I send all of my available mana into my right hand and move it just enough for the sword to somehow connect with the person's helmet. It sends him flying several meters away, thin yellow thread circles around me, until it makes a right around my right arm and in a flash of light severs it. My arm falls to the ground and starts bleeding. Not even a second after, countless javelins pierce my chest and legs, stopping all of my movements.

Not like I could move anyway.

A few seconds later several people in long, white cloth coats, which look something like Qing priests wear, appear and walk to me, and the still reforming and crumbling blood avatar.

"Well, well, well. Would you look who we have here." says a young male voice.

The young man turns to the person in white plate armour to my left, who stands up and removes his damaged helmet. After looking at the damaged helmet his black eyes turn to me in pure hatred.

"What were you expecting, attacking THE Inquisitor? Even in this burnt state, he's a dangerous enemy, he fought the blood chose and is still alive. What were you even thinking?" the laughing young man remarks.

The person that attacked me comes closer and picks up my severed hand, which still has the sword in it and smiles at me toothily.

"Don't play with his hand too much, the research bureau would be thrilled to get their hands on it. We need to bring it to them together with the blood chosen. Who knows, maybe someday we will be able to replicate this undying monster's body."

Several people in white come closer to the creature and start chanting an archaic spell. The avatar screeches in pain as he tries to morph into something, but just slowly decreases in size.

"We are actually very grateful to you. I never though that we could get an opportunity to capture a chosen one so easily. You did a great job distracting it for so long." the young man says with a wide smile.

"As a form of gratitude, I will tell you a small secret." he whispers, taking a few steps closer and looking straight into my eye.

"Your beloved Sun Empire will fall very soon. While their great heroes are here, fighting a lost battle, the Sarshi Caliphate army is already within their borders. And the necromancers that submerged this whole city into chaos is just a small, tiny fraction of what was sent to the Empire."

"But here is the best part. Those religious morons from the Caliphate will follow the Empire soon after. Because WE have been preparing for it for more than a century." He continues to talk, but his voice becomes distant as my sight grows darker and darker, until it turns fully black.

Then a sudden flash of pure white assaults me. The brightness is so high that I try to protect myself from it, but my hands refuse to move. Soon the intensity of the light decreases and something in front of me starts to take on a rectangular shape. After a few long seconds, it finally becomes clear.

Before me, right in the air hangs a huge painting in a beautiful dark wooden frame. Focusing I notice that the image in the painting is moving as if it's alive. The painting shows views of the destroyed city with thousands upon thousands of dead lying on the ground, but the number of people fighting is many times that number. What catches my attention is a huge area with waves of humans and demi-humans colliding into a mass of gore and violence, with rare bursts of colourful explosions.

I recognise the place, where I was just a few minutes ago, but the view looks as if taken from a very high point.

Is this a painting of events in the plaza right now?

Something itching on my back compels me to take a look at what is behind me, and with great effort, my neck starts to move. But I freeze solid when I see what exactly is behind me. Countless creatures, millions upon millions, big and small, made out of flesh, smoke, and different elements and much more. With claws longer than large ships, with more fangs than there are people in big cities.

Even the most dangerous creatures I hunted as a Blood Brother look as harmless as farm animals before these creatures.

The creatures barely move, as if holding their breath back, awaiting something. All their gazes are focused on a single point, and slowly tracing their gazes, I return to the painting.

Oh.

They're waiting for my death.

So, in the end I failed.

Wait.

Why was I fighting in the first place? My task was to plunge myself into the endless sea of lava at the lowest floor of the dungeon.

How did it end like that?

Mistakes. My mistakes.

All of it was my fault. Even the war was-

Wait.

No.

Was I the reason?

No.

No.

I only....

Killed the guards at the north pole, leaving the North Kingdom open to raid from the creatures of the north.

Attacked the North Kingdom city guards as a Blood Brother, making more suspicious of the Empire, essentially leaving it alone against Qing.

Found a Sarshi Caliphate spy village, alarming them and forcing them to take immediate action.

Was that noble from the ship important?

Killed the upper echelon of two important cities in the Desert Alliance, destabilizing it, and leaving it open to a Qing and Sarshi Caliphate invasion.

Told the truth about the Empire to Mozzarel's King. Dooming them to the same fate as the previous cities.

Are they even alive?

It was me.

Because of me, the continental war started.

And because of it Palatia attacked, escalating the whole thing into an inter-continental war.

It was me.

I am the reason for this chaos.

The white world starts to spin as if being sucked into a whirlpool. The blinding light recedes and images of the mages in white coats putting a red creature into a glass globe appears before me.

"Oh. You're back. I thought my monologue killed you. HAHAHA. Get it? Killed you?"

"Oh come on, how boring can you be? I took a great risk telling you one of our secrets just to see your reaction and you don't even twitch. Truly boring."

"Sadly, we are already finished here. We can't take you with us, even if we chop off all of your limbs to make you compact."

"You also just don't have much time left. I don't even understand how you are still alive. But you know what? The heart of the heartless Inquisitor will be an interesting present. Don't you think so? Ironic, kind of. My wife will love it."

Taking out a short, white dagger he makes several steps towards me and plunges his knife into my chest. He starts sawing at my ribs with the short dagger, not meeting any resistance from the flesh, while barely any blood flows from the open wound.

The sound of something titanic colliding makes him stop and look around. The ground starts trembling, which causes a few to lose their footing. A few seconds later the buildings in the background start to fall apart. As if the Earth itself cracked, the volcano splits open in an explosion of fire and magma, a colossal burning creature crawls out of the blazing volcano. Its body casting a shadow over the whole city. Slowly the liquid magma and rocks fall off it, revealing a very thin frame with extremely long, white limbs. As if on queue, a series of rapid lightning fills the sky, in the next instant they stop only to form together, creating a flying creature made of lightning in the center of it all.

The creatures of nightmares stare at each other for several long seconds, until they pounce on each other with a speed that contradicts all rules of physics. Their roars make everyone's eardrums burst as people fall down on the ground, their ears bleeding, writhing in pain. The battle of the creatures before me creates wind and tornadoes that throw buildings into the sky.

During this chaos, a deep laugh sounds across the area and I recognise it instantly. It's my voice, but that shouldn't be possible, there's no energy left in this body to even blink. My whole body starts to burn as if submerged into liquid metal and I start hearing a voice.

HIS voice.

The titanically big creatures stop their fight and look in my direction. And at nearly the same time, they start to prepare a huge spell directed in my direction. My vision grows dark again as I feel every bit of warmth leaving my body, seeping away as if washed by a cold river.

I could've done so much stuff better.

But as always I made the worst possible decision. And got the worst possible result.

I doomed the world.

But there is nothing I can do anymore.

Luna. Brothers.

I am coming.

Light slowly returns as I am once again submerged into blinding light. A few seconds later the light recedes and what stands before me is the wooden frame that I saw before. But the image inside of it is a totally different one, it's so white that for a second I thought it was a mirror. Looking closer I notice that there is something more inside of it. As my eyes focus, they find something, something that is very hard to describe. All the creature of nightmare that I saw before are raging, screaming, and attacking each other in hatred and mindless violence, but upon death they don't disappear, they simply reform and appear at the same place.

Then something burning starts to fall down from the white sky, leaving a trail of black smoke behind it, until it hits the white floor, creating a huge crater. The whole area is slowly covered in black smoke, until a white creature with burnt, white wings, which looks almost human, emerges from it. The white creature starts to scream and rage even more than the others around it, ripping its porcelain white skin, colouring the white floor black with its blood. The white creature grows huge and with its long, razor sharp claws, swipes around, cleaving through any creature in its way. Mindlessly destroying anyone and no one at the same time. All the creatures around it scream in response, but they don't attack, as if they're afraid of it.

Raging around the white creature finally stops, looking at the sky it screams with pure, unhinged hated.

The fallen.

Why is HE here?

Shouldn't HE have already been in my....

What happened?