"Kausten, they continue to resist, thus we shall resort to more convincing means. If they reject unity and justice against those who oppose us, then we shall force them, or erase them. I will not allow anyone to stand against us any longer. The time draws close," there he stood in front of his people, speaking with a voice that resonated within every citizen in the area.

It has come to my attention that an army from Farron approaches, and they seek to pacify and subjugate us. I will not allow you, our brothers and sisters, to be stepped upon, ordered to be less than them. Fear will grip us no longer, and I shall use every ounce influence in my power to make all our dreams a reality. Hear me, every single one of you. Know that this battle is all dedicated to you."

He was met with a roaring applause, a cheer of thousands upon thousands of people, all drawn into his words, weeping and strengthening them all.

Everyone looked at him with inspiration in their eyes, as if they looked to a god that granted them salvation in a way that no god would ever resort to.

He looked different; However, acting resolute and more straightforward, void of any doubt that would usually perturb his decisions.

"Well said, Spencer. You have made me, and your late parents proud. Soon everything that your father envisioned will become true, and you will finally realize what his intentions were for the people," Hendrick came up from the side as he clapped slowly.

"Hendrick. I feel this pang in my chest, as if it is burning, full of thorns and spikes. It feels like I don't know myself anymore. Would I have truly said what I have? Or is this not me any longer?" he said, placing his hand on his chest, feeling that pain where he said it was.

"Nonsense. That is merely the feeling of adrenaline. You have never done something, or said something as radical than what you have given the people to hear. It was a magnificent sight. You looked like a born leader with the way you handled yourself."

"Thank you. This is all because of your guidance, Hendrick. I would have never made it this far if not for your counsel."

"Think nothing of it. All your actions have been done by you and you alone. Now, let us finish this and act while the day is still new. We must give our full attention to this approaching army."

Spencer dismissed the people with his parting voice, retreating back into the comfort of his palace in order to discuss the future of their actions.

It was near the afternoon, and the people were roused, motivated and enlightened by the sudden summons of their exalted leader.

Inside the city stood a strong, numerous army that awaited their orders eagerly, well-armed and looked to be the cream of the crop, led by a general chosen for his reputation as a formidable fighter and leader; a man looked up to by his own men, aspiring to be like him, or a fraction of who he was.

"How have the preparations gone? From what I've gathered. Kausten will inevitably fall, given that they are lacking in manpower. A siege similar to the one currently being done in Harrick will be nothing like this. I assume that It will take one fell swoop," said Spencer as they walked towards the main hall of the palace.

"I have chosen the general of the second army to lead the attack. His capabilities are more than enough to compensate for the loss of our late general, Ruslan of the flying column unit. He may even be stronger of a warrior in comparison.

"Remind me of this. How again was general Ruslan defeated? I've heard of him numerous times in the past, but he simply was never heard from again."

"Even I know less about what took place. It was his subordinate, named Marcia, who told me of what took place. She spoke about a man defeating him single-handedly without his own men noticing. That was the entirety of what happened."

"What of that subordinate now?"

"I had her take over the soldiers in general Ruslan's army. They had no qualms with the decision, and neither do I. She has potential in her tactics and decision making. I had her army unite with the general Oliver Gilford's. With their combined efforts, Kausten will surely fear us, or be crushed by us. Their next objective is to unite with the forces sieging Harrick and ensure that the battle is not prolonged."

"How is the state of general Vista and her army? I trust that they are doing well, I hope," Spencer said with special concern.

"The army is led by our greatest general. Your worries are meaningless. Do not let your conviction waver at this point in time. Become stronger and more ruthless, otherwise you will become weak and feeble, unable to support yourself and the people whom have pledged their unwavering trusts upon you," Hendrick reinforced his words with his strong voice, letting the hall be filled by it.

"I-I understand. I will assure that I can accomplish what I have... Haa- Haa- please, excuse me. My throat seems dry," he started perspiring, breathing in and out deeply as his eyes began fogging up.

"I will accomplish what I have started. Forgive me, Hendrick, but my state seems to have gotten worse. I can't seem to control myself easily. What would you have me do? I cannot let my body become weak at a time like this," he said, having regained a bit of his composure, yet looking ragged after a brief moment his recurring state.

"Then I shall continue supporting you. I shall prepare the medicine, and you, my lord, are to continue on without worry. Leave this to me. I will endeavor to do something about your worsening state," Hendrick left the hall, leaving Spencer by himself.

He slumped onto his so called throne, heaving a heavy sigh as he began thinking to himself.

"It feels like I am being erased, yet I am still here. That voice, it always returns, this time even more relentless. Soon I will succumb to whatever this is that ails me. But I must stay strong, for all of them. Agatha, what can I do? At this rate, I might truly fail. How frightening."

He continued to brood to himself, but it was until then that he realized that nothing will come if he continued on like this.

He began remembering the recent times where he truly felt happy, glad to feel the presence of someone despite the situation that they were in.

A thought popped up, and the scene played back.

It was a dark and clear night, a time when everyone slept peacefully, and a time of serene silence.

They sat near a stream of water, away from their allies, secluded into the sacred areas of the forest, meant only for the eyes of those who sought out adventure.

It was a magnificent sight, the moon shone from the river flowing silently, and the leaves rustled gently.

"Spencer. Tell me, what do you fight for, and why do you fight for it?" she asked, not looking at him, instead at the sight of the river.

"It may be because I wanted people to see that what my father wanted for the nation he grew up in was peace and unity. Something he tried to achieve, but could not. It broke my heart that day when I saw him weep on my mother's lap. I wanted to fight for it because I wanted to show the people that what my father envisioned was indeed possible, yet the path there would be full of thorns and challenges. I understood that, and failing meant that I would have the same end as him."

"Maximillian Olfrin, a man who fought for himself and his ambitions, which dragged the lives of millions into peril, creating strife and war upon the land. He was announced, without a doubt, guilty of his crimes once he was defeated and apprehended by the nation of Farron, and was given to the people of Independence so that they could decide his punishment. Those were all that everyone talked about. I remember it vaguely, but I can see the images of it in my mind."

"Yes. That is him. Yet his ambitions didn't blind him. Nothing did. He was simply defeated because many didn't agree to what he wanted. He was sentenced to be executed by those that resented his actions. He was thrown into a pit where he had to fight for his life against multitudes of people that entered the same pit, wanting to end his life in the eyes of many others. Shortly after, my mother was also blamed by the people, sentenced to be beheaded. It was cruel, and my heart aches until now. I won't be able to forget that fateful moment. One that the people forced me to watch and endure."

"I am, sorry, Spencer. I shouldn't have asked," she said, looking at him now with a sorrowful expression.

"There is no need to apologize. Even I know myself that what I am doing is reckless. But I must keep going. There is no turning back for me, Agatha."

"Do you not resent the people for what they did to your parents?"

"I do, or rather, I did. I should have, but I chose not to. Instead, I sought to continue and finish what he had started, forgetting about lamenting, and simply moving on, yet never forgetting what he had fought for. He isn't a martyr, nor was he someone that should have been looked up to. Our actions betray the very name. Lives upon lives have been taken all for what we stood for. But it is only after when they will realize. Will you continue to join me in my efforts?"

"Of course. It seems that I have not repeated myself enough. For your ambitions and your ideals, I shall support you till the end. I wish to see that future you envision. And... I care for you, Spencer," she looked at him with a smile, one that made his heart weak and open to predators.

It was then that it began to consume him.

That welling feeling that he tried his hardest to resist and avoid, nearly going mad due to it at one point.

His face started contorting, then he grasped his heart, breathing raggedly, trying to regain his composure whilst maintaining it while he could.

"Spencer? Are you alright?" she said in concern, drawing closer to him in order to examine his state.

He could not control it any longer for he had succumbed and resisted too much. All that was left for him was to give in and allow the pain to take over, letting the voice inside his head.

... I will make your ambitions come true. Power beyond compare will assure you of that. Now let us revel in the outcome of the future, as one...

Everything started turning dark, but he mustered all the energy he had within himself to voice his words, unable to do anything else about what was happening to him.

"Agatha, h-help me, please. The pain, it's unbearable. I-I can't hold on any longer," he reached out to her with his shuddering hand, yet failing to reach her as his arms fail; his body falling into a state of deep slumber.

He came back from his brief period of reminiscence, filling his mind with thoughts of her, and only her. The only person to have ever allowed him to open his heart when inside it has been long closed off.

It was because of her that he remained strong despite his decline; keeping him awake even on the most restless of nights.

"Are you well, Agatha? I hope you are. I don't know what would happen to me if something were ever to happen to you," he said to himself, looking off into the distance of the dark door before him.

But just as the silence began to fall, the doors he faced opened loudly and light emerged from it, and another was the presence of a man wearing his leather armor, a courier's to be specific.

"My Lord! Are you here, My Lord!" he bellowed out desperately, conveying the urgency in his voice.

"I am here. What do you need?" he rose from his throne, walking towards the man who ran up to him, holding a small parchment in his hands.

"A message was sent through a pigeon from the lines at Harrick! It is an urgent message from general Vista of the first army!" he knelt and presented the letter to the astonished Spencer, hesitating whether to take and read the letter or not, sensing a bad tiding for it.

He begrudgingly took the letter and dismissed the courier, wanting to be left alone by himself.

Unable to stand the anxiety, he stood and refrained from sitting, opening the letter and sparing him the suspense.

Only after a few moments of reading did he start acting strangely, unable to hold himself still, feeling that welling sense of dread overcoming him.

His heart began beating loudly, but just loud enough for it to be heard by him.

He fell to his knees, his arms perspiring, emitting a dark pulse of energy unlike anything he had ever seen before.

It began appearing all around him; the darkness nearly swallowing him whole if it were not for him running away into the confines of the palace, seeking his aide, and someone that he was sure would be able to resolve and answer what was happening to him.

... The one you love has been harmed. How shall you act? I can give you the power to do as much destruction upon others so that they may feel what those you cared for felt. There is no reason for you to resist any longer. Come, resign yourself.

"Quiet! Who or whatever you are. I shall not be, Argh! I shall not be swayed by you!" he was swerving the halls, running and grasping the walls he would often hit with his body, unable to control where he was going.

It was until then that he reached his companion's quarters under the palace, walking silently, on the verge of blacking out, barely even standing.

He crept up to his door, but was compelled to stop once he heard his voice, as if he was talking to someone; he listened further, piqued, yet disturbed by his recurring state.

"This is the last dosage. Once he takes this, he will succumb. We will finally succeed with our plans. Humans are all feeble, including that human named Olfrin, swayed and hindered by such things as emotions. They have no need of something that weakens them. With my blood, the pact will be complete when he becomes m disciple, and you will finally see my long awaited plan come to fruition, king of Yavel."

Spencer felt another welling feeling from inside him, but it was natural, something that he himself had known of.

Without hesitation, he emerged from the side and appeared in front of the doorway, laying his eyes upon Hendrick, and another being chained to a wall, looking deathly and battered, as if he had been tortured his entire life.

He could only see them barely, but the torches provided enough evidence for him to discern the sight.

"Hendrick. What is the meaning of all this?! The things you have said, are they true? What is all this about demons and a pact?!" he questioned him relentlessly, seething with rage and curiosity.

However, Hendrick stayed silent, looking at him with a deadpan expression, clearly not surprised.

"You are just in time. Come, there is no need to hide myself any longer. You will begin a war that will span ages, dragging along with you the lives of the innocent. Then we, the demons, shall rule righteously."

Spencer blinked, unable to say anything, and Hendrick appeared before him at that exact moment, as if he came from thin air.

He grabbed him by his neck, walking him into the center of the room with a ruthless intent, not something he expected from someone that he had trusted all his life.

"Hendrick! What are you doing?! Let me go at once! I don't understand. You are my friend, why are you doing this to me?" he said barely with his throat in his friend's hand.

"With this, you will be able to fulfill what you have always wanted. I am merely helping you. Now, let us begin," he opened his palm, producing a mass of blood forming into a ball.

He held Spencer higher in the air, forcing his mouth open as he drowned him in the pool of blood flowing from his hand.

His muffled screams of pain and agony could be heard throughout the halls in a frantic echo, yet none could hear and help him.

He was being bathed in blood, forced to drink it as well, unable to do anything as he body gave out; the pain of blood forcing its was in to his throat still there, enough to make him vomit.

"This is what you have always dreamt of, right, Spencer? I am granting you your wish. With this, no one will be able to stand against you. All will falter, and they will repent in the afterlife."

Despite Hendrick being close to him, he could not hear what he was saying, instead thinking of Agatha and how he worried about her after he had read the letter, only filling her thoughts of her as everything began blacking out, the thick, musky smell of blood prevented him from tasting, feeling, and smelling anything else.

He desperately yelled out her name, but it was not clear. The only solace was that he could say her name before anything else.

"A-Agatha! ..."