The sounds of screaming men and thundering guns filled my ears. I looked on with indifference at the events that caused these sounds to appear. Neither did I close my eyes even just a little as the landscape before me lit up with fire and smoke. My hands, however, were very mindful of what was going on.

They continuously adjusted their pressure in reaction to these events, as I did not needlessly damage this wall. And despite how thick this wall was, it still trembled and shuddered every time its collection of mighty guns fired off another salvo. Always at the approaching heretics. Always bringing so many of them to Undwote, the God of Death.

Men of the Union who always seemed to have so little respect for their ancestry. A disrespect that extended to the Laws of Waionr. As such, they just came off as a featureless horde marching to their deaths to me. What reason did they have that meant I should see them as something more?

They were forsaken men marching for forsaken lords.

I, however, like the men I fought with respected the God of War's laws and the land they came from. My armour, sword and profession was proof of that, as were theirs. These heretics, on the other hand, had none of that, no heraldry, no badges and no customs beyond dying. They only had a weapon and uniform which made them no better than brigands in my eyes.

Which, they might as well have been, or, perhaps rightless slaves was a better comparison? It was clear they were an army driven forth by the threat of whip as groups consistently broke away. What few hopes they had were in finding a means to run away... Or, falling to their knees and begging their uncaring officers to retreat or at least a change in tactics.

But I was only assuming that as even I, a member of the Ordoar Imdvarce, could not hear them. I did not have the capacity to listen that far out. Let alone to also ignore the sounds of war that I was both close and distant to. My eyes though could still make out an incomplete story.

Because even the most stinging of whips could not force a scared man towards his death forever. And soon I found myself listening to the cheer of my fellow soldiers. As with so many times before, the heretics were thrown back without even having once breached our walls. Their stupidity and careless wasting of lives saw no boon.

However, as my men sang of victory alongside the steady silencing of our defensive guns. I caught sight of a peculiar outlier moving forth against the retreating horde. A few thousand heretics were still marching forwards toward us. With no heed at all paid to the tens of thousands more who were falling back in a terrified frenzy.

A defiant mountain surrounded by flooded lands these marching men were. And each retreating heretic that went near them meant one less would escape. For those who kept on marching towards us struck them down. A quick slash of the sword was all it took for each heretic to die before these suicidal fools.

And it was as I observed this that I saw the contrast between them.

These particular fools were dressed in partial, well-polished steel armour. Steel which was accompanied by vibrant emerald cloth reminded me of the bloodless grass. And at the head of their formation, well-made colours that flew ahead of them with the help of magic. Proudly displaying their regimental ancestry high and with great confidence.

They were the exact opposite of the heretics who were retreating. But, as my focus returned to those still attacking, I frowned at how no guns of ours were firing. And that was when I noticed it, how their banners and men of pride were positioned. Right at the front, right in line with the guns that could fire on them...

They had silenced them, our guns had been silenced as if their crews had been slaughtered. Yet, it wasn't, the guns were not made quiet by taking out their crews or destroying them. No, they kept them quiet by the laws that kept all soldiers unified in purpose and etiquette. The Laws of the War God, Waionr.

Blessed is His name...

"To intentionally strike at the pride of your opponent when he only leads his fellows is to invite defeat upon your army if you command it, death if you only serve it." I quietly recall myself as my heart quivered slightly. All because I had verbally recited the scripture of the god I served. One I had dedicated myself to for nearly a hundred grand-cycles. And in all that time, I have never once done this when facing those from the heretical Union.

My surprise, however, went away as the sounds of toplocks filled my ears. Marksman had been moved in from other parts of the wall and city in order to handle it. And, soon, many of these men fell dead when the shots hit their mark. The scale of how many fired and died grew over time, as more men came up from behind up the wall's many staircases.

Yet, despite it all, many just shrugged off these shots and kept on marching as if nothing happened. If it wasn't for the fact I despised the Union and their grand heresy towards all gods... If it wasn't for that, these men right here, I'd have nothing but respect for them. But, they were Union, and so my outward expression was a dismissive one.

I was almost tempted to turn and leave, the battle has been so clearly won at this point. Something very odd, however, kept me around as soon bluish lines began to appear in the air. And whenever they hit one of the men of the walls, he disappeared in an instant and into a cloud of arcane ash. And that was all it took to get my attention once more.

My formerly apathetic eyes were widening in shock as I came to terms with what I was seeing. These men were using magic-fed weapons, like those the ancients used. Not like a runed sword like me and my fellow Valkinvar. These were weapons that could be used with barely any effort!

This was magic-fed weaponry! Not magic-enhanced like the balls of a toplock or the shells of the guns built into this mighty wall. Not even like my finely crafted sword, the badge of my office. No, they were using magic itself to kill my fellow soldiers and it wasn't a spell...

How did they get access to anything like this? The hordes who have attacked prior all used physical munitions. They used rusty old catapults and crude swords stamped out to fill the conscripted hands! This should have been beyond them, it was beyond us as well!

As such, my growing worries made my dominant hand reach for my longsword...

"Valkinvar-Imdvarce, allow me." the Valkinvar of the True-Emerald Wind told me with a soothing voice. And, as I finally acknowledged the presence her power gave her, I calmed down. Content to stare in admiration at the Zaphadren-Valkinvar and her work.

With so little effort from her, a powerful breeze of bright, emerald wind came down from above. It sliced through the Union soldiers effortlessly. Thousands of men all dead with but one relatively insignificant spell from my superior. With those actions, we could also finally say the battle had ended as blood finally began to pool.

Yet, it was only the battle for this part of the city that had ended. One could still make out guns firing if they listened and men still rushed about far behind us. However, despite the rest of the city still being at war for now. I did not move to help them as my role in this fight was done.

This wall was safe for another cycle or few and I had helped make it that way. Our decimating volleys from our guns and our ceaseless determination had shattered the enemy! We had done it again! Once more, they were broken down into sand that would not become whole again so easily!

"Zaphadren-Valkinvar Gemorli! Can I help you?" I asked her after properly acknowledging the head of one of the four orders of the Valkinvar. Nervousness soon filled my body as I subtly trembled before one of our greatest warriors. Perhaps even one of the strongest witches on the entire continent!

Let alone the borders of our War-blessed Theocracy and its various and plentiful allies...

I did need trained eyes to tell she was beautiful, but they certainly helped me appreciate it more. Yet, with that appreciation came indescribable jealousy I did not know what to do with. I could feel the envy grow and gnaw away at my mind as I looked up at her hair. Hair that divided into four different coloured corners, a golden band holding up each.

One corner of emerald, a sign she was both powerful and well-trained in the use of wind magic. Another of sapphire that seemingly kept the features of water on top of its bright colours. One of pure yellow that had strands of it go out to the other corners. And, finally, a corner of ruby-red that let out the subtlest of heatwaves yet still burned the air around it.

Water magic, lightning magic and fire magic respectively. A rare kind of talent she was. One who could not only grasp and work with our own native element of wind. But also grasp and use not one, but three foreign magics!

"You may not help me, but you may walk with me to the temple so that I have someone to talk to who is closer to my level." she answered with a small smile before she started to walk away.

The distinct sounds her staff made filled my ears soon after. Its decorations jingled and its shaft clanged when it hit the stone. A much different sound to her metallic sandals and the short-heeled sabatons of my armour. And, as we reached the stairs, I watched as she moved past me with a sense of grace I would never have.

Then, from the top of the stairs, I looked at her flowing and decorative white, grey and silver robes. This grace she had, all of it came back to how well she controlled her magic aura. It was a means to an end for many things. Be it just making one seem far more ethereal than they were or for sheer blunt impression.

And, as I looked at her, I frowned as my face was hidden behind a visor. Closer to her level is what she just said to me, that is what she just spoke. But, I was nowhere near her in any capacity, so why did she say it? l wasn't even close to my fellow Valkinvar of the lower rank!

So should I feel exceptionally happy because she chose me to be with her...? Even if it is a short period of time and a rather measly task? Right? This surely meant something, surely?

And I really wanted to feel happy about this, more than anything in the world. But, I couldn't get such emotions to be present, no smile would come. I could only evoke sadness at why she chose me. It was all just because everyone else present was not skilled in magic at all...

"So tell, me, what is your name, Valkinvar-Imdvarce?" she asked me as she waited for me at the bottom of the wall. Moving after her once again when my armoured feet left solid stone and began moving across well-made slabs.

"Vapooliar, Zaphadren-Valkinavr Gemorli. My name is Vapooliar." I told her in a somewhat quiet tone. Not that it mattered to someone as strong as her. The amount of magic stored in her body would have greatly enhanced her senses. So much so that I could probably barely mouth out a sentence and she could understand each and every word of it.

"Vapooliar? You are our newest addition, no?" she correctly guessed. I nodded in answer in order to hide my embarrassment and shame at such a fact. The rest of the Ordoars were out there fighting across the entire war front. Or, they were taking part in lavish ceremonies all the way back in the holy city itself.

The city that was chosen by Waionr himself to house a theocratic government of his own making! Thurn's Forge was its name, and not only was it directly chosen by the god I served so faithfully alongside my fellow Valkinvar. And, as the name suggests, it is also or was at this point, the forge of the mightiest god of them all.

The God of Ancient Thunder... Thurnmourer.

However, I was not blessed enough to be at such a storied place. Nor was I to be fighting alongside such storied people like the elders of my order or the other three orders. I was stuck manning the walls of a city built to honour something, not be built into the place of honour itself.

And while I could not discredit what this city honoured. After all, it was an event that should be remembered for all eternity until even the gods themselves can no longer be sustained on our faith. It just wasn't the same and I had been struggling with dealing with the isolation I had been under here. This is why I was so happy despite all the other ways this meeting made me feel.

I had a strict routine to stick to as a Valkinvar but no fellow Valkinvar to share these duties with. In fact, the Zaphadren-Valkinvar was the first one of my fellow Valkinvar that I have seen in an entire quarter-cycle! So many showings of the moons had passed since I last saw another Valkinvar... With all of that together making it all the more surprising that I was able to see her in person.

"Then I hope you don't mind me putting you on the spot, after all, the way we pray to our future love should be the freshest in your mind after all." she told me softly as we came to a stop on a quiet walkway that had a direct view of the statue that gave the city its name.

An armoured giant holding a bolt of trapped lightning in its hands. Thunderous might which it drove it into a scaled beast that looked ever so similar to a dragon but was clearly not. A beast which had been carved from the mountain at the centre of the city. Just like the statue of the Thunder God that was also carved from that mountain.

Yet, in spite of how much we took from it for our homes, temples and roads The mountain still stood high and mighty, dwarfing what we carved from it. The city of Giant's Victory. The City at the Foot of Thunder's Victory was what it still lorded over.

"Wrong god, Valkinvar Vapooliar." my superior joked with a gentle smile as she redirected me towards the temple of our patron god. It was made from red stone imported all the way from the great canyon that the city of Thurn's Forge sat both sides of.

However, I wasn't sure why they went to such great lengths importing this holy rock. All for it to be the foundations and walls of such a modest temple. But, sometimes, when I was feeling lonely or upset... I liked to pretend they did it in recognition for my service, just to ease up on my isolation.

Delusions often came about as a result of my loneliness...

Then, once I focused on what was important. I waited, full of nervousness with subtle movements expressing it. I waited for my superior to enter the small temple first, but she gestured me in first with a gentle gesture. Something I admittedly did not want.

She would be able to see even my earliest embarrassments! It was a terrible pressure I felt. To be watched by her as I walked. In such a holy place that tolerated no mistakes...

Yet, I found a calming sight in the statue of Waionr at the end and centre of the temple. To be more specific, it was the animal that accompanied the God of War that calmed me. My previous worries were leaving me and I started to feel confident. My strides were the first thing that felt this.

This four-legged carnivore did so much for me despite it being simple stone. Sharp claws, powerfully built legs and piercing fangs. This mysterious animal was a predator. Yet, it was not those natural weapons that caught my eye.

It was the fur.

Its fur stood out the most about the beast. Flat at first, with it being clearly groomed well. However, it quickly escalates outwardly as your gaze went near its head. This creature was pride itself.

And soon, a thought that had crossed my mind many a time came ahead. And it was always one of my fondest and one I would likely never get tired of welcoming... What kind of animal does one need to be to gain the eternal companionship of a god?

Unfortunately, it was a question that must be answered at another time like always. For it was time to honour Waionr the best way I knew. A ritual I was about to perform before one of our best. One that Waionr would be very happy to welcome into his bed when she finally perished in war.

Likely in a battle that would be recorded and taught for thousands of grand-cycles after!

"O' Mighty Waionr! Rememberer of the Fallen Soldier and Honourer of their Eternal March." I chanted as I began to take off parts of my armour. Gloves and arm pieces first, then, with my skin bare, I took off my helmet. My short, dark brown hair slightly tinted with emerald strands unfurled as I did so. And I put my helmet on the pedestal just before me.

All of it occurred as I kneeled before the statue of my future lover. In a small circle carved into the stone below and shaped in a fanciful, bowl-like manner. A design made in order to collect what I was about to sacrifice to the God of War. And I worried my nervousness might mess up the ritual at that crucial point.

"O' Mighty Waionr! We kneel before you, in your temple and before your Prideful Beast, our chest exposed and vulnerable. We kneel before you to make a pledge of loyalty and honour like we always will until our deaths bring tragedy to the still living." I chanted as I took off the final piece of armour.

And with a resonating thud marking its brief fall, I took off the clothes I wore under it. Then, I placed one hand, my lesser left hand, upon my left breast so I could lift it up. Revealing the scar that marked my purpose in life. One I would continue to expose with pride until I fall in battle and meet my divine lover.

"O' Mighty Waionr! Please bless this knife that we place underneath our life-giving chest. Please guide its edge as it cuts deep, please allow us to draw much so that we may prove worthy." I chant as I pulled out a ceremonial knife.

Like the others of my order, it was stored in a compartment by my shin. And, with the subtlest gulp I could manage, I moved the polished blade to that scar. Starting the process of opening the scar with well-practised ease. As I did so, I slowly pushed it in as blood flowed down my front.

I winced in pain, but, I was able to keep my composure during this important part. Some of my fellow Valkinvar were able to be stoic when faced with this pain. Themselves having long grown apathetic to it. Or, in some cases, their love blinded their senses as they did so.

Younger members like me, though, could only wonder how they were able to do that. To my shame, I had to stain the ritual's ambience with my sharp breathing. Tears even diluted my blood as the knife got closer to my beating heart. I persevered, however, like I had done many times before.

"O' Mighty Waionr! With our loyalty and faith proven, give unto us a duty to follow once we leave the service of our kin. May your Sons who segregate themselves away from your temple be blessed with guiding further generations while we hold ourselves to the purest standard so that even our motherly battles may be in your name." I chant as I took the knife out slowly and carefully. Putting it away again with the blood still coating it.

"O' Mighty Waionr! Look over your future lovers and friends with ever-growing vigilance and resolve and may we, as your loyal soldiers prove worthy of resting within your hallowed halls, forever remembered in stone by the living and forever loved by you in your embrace!" I chant one final time before rising again, the ritual done.

Then, as I move the pain out of my mind, I looked around for my superior. To see if she had anything to say on how I did. A saddened frown then came as I noticed that she had left... Had I done something wrong?

Was she suddenly struck with duties she had to attend to? I could only pray to the many gods I knew of that it was the latter. The shame of messing up before one of the leaders of the Valkinvar would be unbearable. I'd be begging for isolated tasks and duties away from everyone else...

Because not only would I also have the reputation of being one of the slowest to be inducted... I'd also have the reputation of being unable to complete this ritual flawlessly. Something that all female Valkinvar were taught to perform. Every cycle they were in the presence of a temple dedicated to Waionr...

Soon, the injury in my chest soon healed itself rapidly as I concentrated magic on the injury. Panting with short-lived exhaustion as my nervousness and arcane exertions finally got to me. The pain, while gone now, still left its mark. So I picked up a cloth to start washing off what had not spilled down into the grooves under me.

"I should try and find her again, rumours of a counter-offensive have been circulating..."

.

.

.

"It is certainly old." I commented after I rubbed a gloved finger along the signs of long-dead underwater plant life. A clear sign this was built before the Time of Liquid Mountains. Like many others, I was surprised it is still so intact. It was a testament to the craftsmanship that made it for it survived for so long.

Maybe at some point, this place was formerly a research site? The maps I was reading on the way here do put this old structure very close to a neighbouring and thankfully neutral country. One ran by a peculiar dual-government. Ikra Thrurstradtur-Suhurlodst.

In contrast to the semi-circular borders of my home nation, they were a thin and elongated one. Positioned mostly on our southern border. And, in theory, it kept the Theocracy's southern borders safe as it was a powerful nation in its own right. So I could see how this place would make for a good counterattack.

We would push the heretics towards that republic and bring them to our side!

"Aye, she is an old building, but she will hold." one of the men manning the guns we brought with us commented after he heard my words. Just then as well, he harshly stamped down on the leg of the mobile gun he was working on. A four screw that needed to be tested for stable footing by the looks of it.

"But they won't." another soldier who was up here suddenly commented as he pointed out towards the valley ahead of us. And I could see it all clearly through the gaps in the old walls. Heretics were mounted atop juperses. And they were dressed like those fools I saw when we repelled them so recently...?

They even had that banner again held aloft in the same way. With a gentle but still firm breeze of magic expanding it before us. It wasn't hard to figure out the symbology behind it. It was a depiction of how arrogant these heretics were!

A glowing circle represented the rock they worshipped under false pretences and seven mountains were positioned under it. The largest represents their capital with it being directly underneath their unholy stone. With another six being arrayed around it, two of which were not even in their territory. My unconquered homeland and the power we fought so close to...

Unlikeable arrogance given seeable form...

"Get the Grand-Thoucomm, I will see what they want." I tell the men near me before I leap out into the air. Flying straight toward these likely nervous soldiers. I was finding this odd, though, it had only been a few cycles since we left Giant's Victory. How did these men know where to find us...?

I had sensed no scouts on my patrols and I also found no hint of witches...

How, if this the worst was the case, were they already ready for battle again? If I was assuming the presence of these riders correctly, of course. Was the force I watch get repelled not the actual force intended to try and take the walls, but rather one intended to test them once more? Would I need to be proactive and go off on my own?

"Deliver your message and leave!" I sternly told the group of riders. Their juperse were nervous, far more so than I was. But the men riding them? Not a single twitch or sign of fear...

Just a pitch-black abyss that hid their faces... All I could tell was that their glowing, orange eyes were unyielding in their stare. I narrowed my gaze in response. Impatiently, I waited for them to respond to my demands.

Then, an unprofessional snort left me. They really did just do what they did? They gave me the traditional salute of their pathetic country. One that held its origins in their blasphemous beliefs!

Absurd.

Despite the fact I could wipe them out into nothing but a bloody smear. These messengers wanted to mock me by declaring me as their lesser!? Undwote would be angry with me indeed as once I was done with them. But so would my future love...

"Go!" I tell them to no avail as I took then held the cylindrical tube that likely held their arrogance in written form. Their... Requests... So, I headed back to the Grand-Thoucomm with this document.

I could only wonder how long this would take. After all, if they were here for whatever reason to argue for a truce... We'd never be able to implement it properly. The Zaphadren-Valkinvar was coming around to trap their approaching troops!

I just wish we could buy them the time to get here if the enemy was so far ahead...

Then, with one last glance full of suspicion, I arrived back at our position. Moving up the ancient, worn-out stairwell and then entering our command centre. Light seemingly disappeared for a moment before our man-made lights sorted it out. We could command safely, this deep into a mountain.

It did not take long for me to focus on the well-dressed men gathered around a fallen wall. It had been repurposed into a table by their orders. It was also clear many of them had just been called over. With many of the actual tables being unsorted messes.

The message left my hands quickly and was opened up by the Grand-Thoucomm, "Dear, Superior Military Force. We are sorry for coming here, the end." he dismissed with dangerous arrogance.

And I was left completely shocked by this unexpected behaviour! This man was supposed to be a veteran of the frontlines! A defensive master! Why was he...?

This was in direct violation of the fourteenth Law of Waionr! My confusion gave way to anger quickly. We were supposed to be better than the heretics! And to make the matters worse, the other officers were laughing at this mockery of the enemy request!

"Grand-Thoucomm!" I said firm and clear before I started to break the stone under my palm.

"What?" he snapped back with a subtle rolling of his eyes.

"That is not how you are meant to deal with enemy documents handed to us! You are meant to read them clearly to your fellow officers, equals and superiors and speak on how to proceed, not throw it aside and mock it!" I aggressively remind him. If he carried on like this, if he did not repent... The army would suffer for it!

So I went around the makeshift table to snatch the document back. Opening it up properly before holding it before him so he alone could make up for it. He needed to read this properly! Handle it properly!

"Take your fanaticism elsewhere, cultist." he spat out with little respect for what I was, "Do you seriously expect the Union to give a falling ryphurgok about how we treat their messages!? Do you think the gods will care like they did when they burned down thousands upon thousands of grand-cycles worth of history in their conquests!? Well!? Face it, Cultist, your gods are not real and even if they are, they don't care for you!"

I was taken aback in shock, this was the kind of man Pathort was!? They let a man like this become Grand-Thoucomm!?

"That's... BLASPHEMY! APOSTASY! TAKE THAT BACK!" I yelled in rage as I pulled out my sword.

Letting off enough magic to soak the ancient structure in emerald energy. Powerful pulses and flares could be seen as it followed suit with my enraged expression. Yet, his veterency meant he was made of sterner stuff. He just scoffed and walked out to one of our recently abandoned guns.

My magic having scared the crew away for the moment...

"If you wish to do this, properly, fine. Here was the message! 'Fellow Jhermonikra, surrender now and lay down your arms and you will be given clemency. Shelter as well in order to correct your beliefs to the true god of this world, the Mighty Jhrarda... Saviour of our people, whose time of year we currently live under.' Now, let me give them our response, right in front of their barren rock as they so lovingly told us about!" he told me with held back anger as he started to operate the gun.

My own anger cooled in but a moment. A wave of fear washed over me and my eyes widened. He wasn't going to fire upon them, was he!? No, he wouldn't, he just couldn't...

And then it happened with a terrifying bang.

A shell soon left the gun and slammed against the stone floor. Very shortly after, a distant explosion mixed with the sounds of dying animals. Without even letting it stay in my head, I rushed outside to observe the damage. Letting my draw drop in disbelief as I stared at that tattered banner...

The men below were confused and concerned. I could feel tears in my eyes as I swear I could see an armoured visage appear before us. Waionr saw it, he saw it! The Grand-Thoucomm had damned us all!

Then it happened, a strange noise suddenly filled my ears and something shot through the clouds. Was this Waionr's wrath!? He was going to strike us down with powerful magic...!? But, all of these strange balls only hit the gun emplacements.

The noise they made upon detonation was foreign and their power scared me. Perfectly carved spheres of destruction had left nothing of our fortifications. The command centre was gone in but a moment... Yet, my senses were shaken by something else.

Bright green lances suddenly shot out of the clouds and something parted them in turn. As if Thurnmourer himself had struck his hammer, a powerful sound announced its arrival. And out it came, casting a dark shadow over the valley. I could not comprehend what it was at all...

"Waionr help me... Forgive me..." I squeaked out pathetically. An impossibly big machine that was too big to even fit into the valley had appeared. Whatever it was, it left me stuttering like a child. A flying fortress...!?

Six violent streams of emerald light held it aloft with such power even the distant ground was churned up. It had sides that dwarfed the walls I defended not so long ago. And I could see so many guns, there must've been thousands!

To my shame as well, I was frozen in terror as another wave of those orbs surged out. I did not even try to stop them and could only listen as the men screamed. Our mighty host was gone. There were only scared children here now...

This was my fault...

And as if Waionr had heard that slander from before, something started to come down the mountainsides. Ryphurgoks were charging straight for the survivors on both sides of the valley! They broke off stone with their powerful strides. Their roars echoed just as loud as that fortress too!

Hundreds of them were all coming down the mountainside...

They came with the clang of thick armour. The blare of magic lances that swirled with power. All of it mixed in to terrify the men I should be protecting... The men that fleed with their lives...

Something, I had to do something! Our position was lost, too many had died in that bombardment that I cowered away from. And what remained was primed to be flattened underfoot by the most feared shock cavalry... This was going to be a slaughter if I did nothing!

But, I wouldn't be able to save them, there was too many! Too much distance to cover!

"NO! I must save them!" I let out in frustration before I shot towards a mountain. Sliding into and up its stoney hide with my sword right behind me. And, when I was close, I swung upwards and went into the air. Slicing straight through armoured beast and man before twisting around.

With a powerful boom, I then went towards another. Crushing them with the sheer force of movement before I went on. Creating a path of carnage on one of the mountains before I went to the other. Absorbing the crash before I ran along the mountainside.

Only the briefest pauses existed as I fought and fought. Desperately trying to keep as many men as I could alive. Yet, no matter how hard I tried... It just wasn't enough...

And I froze up once again as the first ryphurgoks made landfall. With the screams being renewed as they charged down the fleeing remnants. Some tried to form up, but they were too few. Their thin grey lines were decimated so easily...

I couldn't do anything...

"When I die, Waionr, please do not judge me harshly for the sins of others..." I frustratedly let out before turning to that machine. This must've been the only one the heretics had! I have heard nothing of such machines before! I have never encountered them physically or in rumour!

So I tightly clenched my sword handle and focused my magic in two places. Around me and the point of my blade. I would force my way through that piece of pig iron and shatter it! It would not withstand a Valkinvar!

So with a roar of angry defiance, I shot towards it. And with a sharp screech, I registered the shock of how my blade only scratched it. I tried to renew my efforts with desperate thrusts, but nothing happened still. So I turned upwards with a glare.

I followed my line of sight and swung around to the deck of this machine. Cutting down the fearless soldier who came out to stop me. Yet, I was too strong for them. And it did nothing to soothe my rage as I cut down these black-faced soldiers!

"WHAT'S GOING ON!?" I roared as I was at a complete loss. This army had arrived far sooner than expected. Our officers were as bad as these heretics. Terrifying weapons I had no knowledge about were being used... And the brave men I served alongside with, they ran while the heretics fought on!?

Screaming in fury before I then threw a heretic overboard. Watching with malice in my eyes as a brief red mist appeared when they touched the green light. Yet, no scream came from that soldier at any point... It scared me more so than anything else up until this point.

"Valkinvar." a voice then said behind. And my blade was instantly aimed at them after my swift turnaround. Yet, the fact I could see his features and hair made me stop. Especially the hair...

He was a well-dressed man, one with a uniform covered in decor and glory. His armour was well-storied as was his slightly curved blade. Yet, that all was nothing compared to the relatively longer hair he had. Emerald locks brighter than even the Zaphadren-Valkinvar's hair...

It contrasted so strangely with his otherwise sickly, tired appearance...

"Who are you!?" I asked loudly as I made sure not to show my fear before them. Yet, despite this, I still jumped as he switched his grip from their ceremonial hold to a combative one. To say nothing of how I reacted when his blade sprouted a second blade made purely of magic. And seeing such focused, powerful magic made me walk back slightly.

"It matters little to you, Valkinvar." was all he said as he took up position. He turned his frame to the slide and slimmed himself before me. And while I could not tell how powerful he was directly because his control was too great. His hair told me all I really needed to know...

So I did not give him a moment to think and charged him with as much power as I could muster. Yet, it was blood that I spat out instead as I stumbled past him after being sure I pierced his body... I moved my hand to clutch my finely cut into armour. Breathing harshly while I blinked at the blood my palm was soaked in.

This armour was some of the finest on the continent... How did he cut it so easily...? However he did it, it did not matter now. I could hear his footsteps so clearly as he approached.

"Now, get off my airship." he told me before he slapped my sword away without any effort. I watched it fly off into the distance while my hand went numb from the force. And while I tried to figure out what he just said. He thrust his steel into me.

What happened even immediately afterwards was a blur because I didn't even know I had flown away. Whatever had happened, I was now in a mountainside crater. My body ached and blood was everywhere. I couldn't focus and my eyes were getting heavy.

"S-Somebody, help..." I weakly called out before I started to fall from this high-placed crater.