A couple days prior

I exhale slowly, bubbles slipping out of my mouth like little fishies. I slowly lift my face out of the river water, water dripping off my nose and lips. It was a ritual done to keep my emotions in check. I have to keep calm; it’s one of the fundamental rules of Zlitian combat. Drilled into the minds of even young children, the importance of a disciplined mind. For we would be arriving in Kaldros very shortly, if we win we would be able to force a peace agreement on our terms.

I hear footsteps from behind.

“Now how can I make you take this more seriously?” Enteric asks.

“Quite rude isn’t it? My mother’s supposedly in Kaldros; I am taking this seriously.”

“I sure wouldn’t have guessed. Else maybe you would have used those swords of yours instead of running around in a giant suit of armor.”

“It’s simply a little bit of restraint, you’ll never accomplish anything if you always do whatever’s next on your mind.”

“That’s fine and all, I’m just worried that when it finally comes time for you to let loose you won’t know how to do it.”

“I do know, I do it all the time in fact.” I say.

“No, no, I’m not that trance thing; it’s just… I don’t know, it’s like… You’re a perfect fighter but that’s all that you are… Perfect. You won’t be able to reach any higher when the time comes.” Enteric says with a shrouded look on his face

“Well, let’s just hope I don’t find someone who’ll take me to my limit then. Though, I’ll keep your words in mind; There’s alwaysroom for improvement.” I walk away, back to the base camp where we would continue our march after breakfast was over. I knew Enteric was correct, anger and emotions were tools I would have to utilize to reach my peak potential. Like all things, I just needed to train myself to control them.

“You just… don’t understand…” Enteric mutters as he follows me, trying to think of something to say.

…

Enteric is very strong; I met him during my first fight in Lyster. I had fought in many battles in Zlitia; however, I was completely unknown in Lyster, so he was still my superior at the time. We were equals now of course, each one leading our respective sectors of the army, but he quickly singled me out and gave me the opportunities to prove myself, so I owed it to him for that.

“Wake up! Wake up!” I shout the second the sun begins to peak over the horizon, flooding the landscape with faint red rays of light.

“You’ve got ten minutes to eat before we start moving! Whoever misses breakfast ain’t getting food until dinnertime!” Although, it looks like I didn’t need to say that second part as men and women flood out of loosely constructed tents within seconds. Hard to sleep soundly when your next day could be your last.

Each tent is methodically folded and broken down in an instant as people scurry past me to get their food. A large heaping of stale but cooked rice for energy, plus jerky for protein. Nutrition was an extremely important aspect of keeping soldiers in prime condition to fight, before soldiers would be out a single slice of bread and that would be it. It was frequently moldy and all in all not enough energy to last the day. Jerky was also very important for providing the protein needed to keep strength up. War strategies in Zlitia had progressed infinitely further than over here and I was taking advantage of that to full effect.

Very nice, very nice. I grab some rice and jerky by the hand and eat it. Utensils were an unnecessary burden to bring around at this time.

Once we win in Kaldros here we’d have taken back all of our territory since the beginning of the war. Most importantly however, we would have taken an extremely hub of operations for Oliviand’s offensive; once it’s gone they’ll have no home base except for in their own territory many many kilometers away, further hindered by unfavorable terrain through a dense and muddy swampland.

Then once the war hits their homeland… Well, I’m sure popular support will begin to wane heavily and I’m sure negotiations of peace will be up in the air by then.

I examine my nails, then begin biting them down to little nubs. Ah shit, that’s a bad habit; I shake my hands out and resist the temptation.

A war ends when it is no longer popular. No matter how tight of a grip a king has on their land, all wars are fought with the people, not rulers.

I look down at the army, nearly all of them had finished up their food and were standing by with hands on spears.

“GROUND FEET!” I shout, clapping my hands loudly.

The ground rumbles as horns blare out throughout the forest, thousands of people stepping forward at once.

…

Couple minutes prior

“Why do you fight?” Enteric suddenly asks me before I leave the river, continuing his thought from before.

“What do you mean?”

“Why do you risk your life for a country you haven’t lived in for most of your life?”

“I… Don’t? I know, I know it sounds weird, but… I think I’m strong enough that my life isn’t in too much danger.” I say with brutal honesty.

“Ah, so you’re just doing a good deed am I right?”

“Like I said, I’m doing it for my moth-“

“No you aren’t.” Enteric interrupts me before I even finish. “Nothing you’ve ever done has shown me that you care at all!” He spreads his hands out gesturing wildly.

“Please calm down, there’s no need to get heated.”

“No there is a need! Haha, I think I finally figured it out! It’s like helping the old lady carry her baggage isn’t it?” Enteric’s hand motions get even more exaggerated.

“I don’t know, why do you keep asking me?” I finally say with some irritability behind my voice.

“Hehe, I’m right aren’t I?” Enteric whispers to himself.

“I learned a while ago that it’s pretty hard to make you angry. There’s no insecurities to target with people like you. So I complement you for that.”

“But you are human after all aren’t you?” Enteric smiles and points a finger at me. “Perfection doesn’t exist. The price of discipline is freedom, the price of skill is enjoyment, the price of selflessness is power. You are-“

“Okay, okay, I’ll use my damn swords.” I stop his speech as soon as I realize what it was all about. “Didn’t know you were so perceptive.” I figured he was intentionally trying to get a rise out of me, so I would use my full strength.

“Not only use your swords, I want you to use your heart over just your mind. Something you cannot just train.” Enteric lowers his voice and looks at me seriously.

I look at him for a couple of seconds back. “Sure thing pal.”

“RAWAGHH!” I swirl around the battlefield, swords singing as films of air glide off of their tips. As burdensome that suit of armor was, it definitely allowed me to be more careless with my movements. I swivel around my torso as if I were a branch in the wind, dodging stray arrows and slashes.

We were in the city now, chaos breaking out in the streets against a backdrop of buildings and housing.

Always stay at the front, open up the way, create an opportunity for everyone else, no one else can do it except for you. I jump into the air and kick the hilt of one of my blades, piercing it straight through a man’s throat. Still in midair, I kick the blade again with my other foot, rending it into a pinwheel of blood.

Suddenly the path in front of me opens up slightly as soldiers turn their attention away from me. Why?… I don’t think about it for too long however, as I drive myself even further into the backline, giving me a moment of recluse to think.

Is somebody else fighting ahead of me? Who are they and how did they get further than me? I viciously parry a slash, wildly throwing the man in front of me off balance, I then send three swords ripping through his chest, grimacing all the way. A lot more people have died because I used the swords instead of the gauntlets and armor, but I can’t let it slow me down, regrets or no regrets, my movements do not change.

I slash and I slash, wanting to catch up with the lone fighter ahead of me. Maybe they’re in trouble? They must be extraordinarily strong to have lasted this long. I look behind me with hesitation, my squadron filling into the space that I create with shields and spears. Will they know how to do it in a city environment?

“TURTLE UP! DON’T LET ANYONE THROUGH! AND WAIT FOR MY RETURN!” Bad idea to be delaying the push like this but I have to find out what’s going on.

All six swords come back to my side, lining up evenly into my scabbard. I slice my skin once more, reapplying my blood to each blade, where it then takes formation spaced out evenly, cutting down anyone that was relatively close to me. I would need to refresh my strength for this…..

The blades begin to blink rapidly, the shining afternoon sun reflecting on and off against the smooth black metal as they begin to whirl around the handle.

I furrow my brow. One trick I’ve always used to reduce the mental load of using 6 swords at once was to imagine string tied around my arm tied to the sword. The swing of my arm would fling the sword right along with it, grounding the physics into a more understandable state. I begin twirling my wrist around rapidly. This way I could allocate more Anku to my blood and muscles. The air begins to vibrate as the blades cuts through, creating a low frequency humming sound.

“I’ll give you one warning to get out of the way.” I crouch down and take a running position.

Soldiers ahead of me desperately scramble through doors and alleyways as my blades spread to cover the entire street.

GO! I launch off with an explosive velocity.

A clang,

A flash,

and the sound of flesh rending.

I look down incredulously to see an ordinary steel spear, the wooden shaft half cut off having gone through the spinning swords, poking out through the back of my left shoulder. I had barely been able to react, if I hadn’t moved in the last second it would have gone through my heart. I look to see the soldier in front of me with a hole in his chest, slowly dropping to the ground.

Was that thrown?

I flinch, gripping the shaft tightly trying to pull it out. My concentration breaks, unable to focus due to the searing pain, and I lose control over my swords, causing them to fling around wildly.

I grunt as the spearhead rips and tears through my flesh as I pull it out. Control. Pain when pain is necessary, no pain when it isn’t. I empty my mind of all thoughts and feelings, though I physically feel the spear, I do not associate it with pain, I do not associate it with anything, I am a non-living stone.

Within a second I pull the rest of the shaft through and cover up the spurting blood cupped under my palm. I immediately get to work growing together the missing hunk of flesh. Fully regenerating the flesh will take too long, so I’ll have to make do and just stitch it together.

IT’S COMING.

I drop my arm mid healing and parry the air in front of me despite there being nobody there.

“Huh?” I just got this overwhelming sense of…

YOU WILL DIE.

This time I resist the feeling and recall all my swords back to my side as I scrounge the terrain for the incoming threat.

No, this feeling isn’t natural, someone is using some sort of Sananku manipulation. I begin to hold my breath at the realization. In order to achieve this, tiny droplets of blood need to be spread out like a mist to be ingested, if I hold my breath I should retain control of my mental state.

Control, that’s right. All I need is control.

I look behind, my soldiers had bunched up into an impenetrable wall of shields, spears poking out from tiny gaps in between the wood and metal. Good. I can focus all my energy on the upcoming fight then.

I take a stance, focusing all Anku into my eyes and bringing my guard up. Someone powerful is coming for—

I swing my attention to the rooftops, a descending shadow interrupting my thoughts. The spear came from down the street… And that person is coming from…

I tense up as a sudden as an unfamiliar feeling grips my body. Why… I linger around for a second until I realized that feeling was telling me to dodge. I swivel to the side leaving three of my swords floating in the air to slash the fighter on the way down.

Eyes. With the few remaining moments left before contact I take gauge of my opponent.

A tall middle-aged looking women, she had hair loose and messy, wearing only commoners cloth with no armor. Her weapon was… A cheap looking iron sword, completely inferior to my black metal swords. Was she even the one who threw the spear? Seems like I’m actually just overthinking everything.

I lift my sword arm, ready to cut her down as soon as she lands.

“How prideful of you.” The woman suddenly invades my perception, speaking at a normal tone despite the slowed down reality, looks like she was observing me this entire time as well.

“Heh, don’t disappoint me.” I reply in kind.

My black-metal sword shatters in my hand as I go for the killing blow, parried by a shoddy iron sword. The three other swords lie stuck, one caught with her hand, the two others jammed beneath her feet in a complex series of motions that was too fast to fully comprehend.

Shards of a supposedly unbreakable metal fly by my face, broken by nothing more than iron.

What?