Officer Mara shivered.
A deep, biting cold settled into her bones, creeping through her limbs like the final frost of a dying winter.
She could feel herself slipping—her body slowly weakening.
'Am I scared?'
The thought was absurd.
In all her years as a soldier—through wars, bloodshed, and covert missions—fear had never touched her. She had killed, commanded, and survived.
Yet now she felt it. A whisper in her ears. Soft and slithering as it wormed through her composure, growing in her mind like a parasite.
There were no stars.
Or perhaps there were, but she couldn't see them.
They were hidden from her, obscured by the pile of corpses weighing down, polluting the air with the stench of rotting bodies.
'Arthur.'
He had tried to save her. She hadn't expected that.
But she should've, Arthur had never acted the way she thought a rich entitled noble would.
And she hadn't wanted that…she needed him to be a spoilt noble, to be irredeemable.
Because that final scream…
If she ever survived this, that scream would haunt her, forever.
A sound too raw, too childlike, to belong to a soldier.
Because Arthur wasn't a soldier.
He had never been a soldier.
---
[Arthur POV]
Searing heat and cold clashed within my body, scouring it from the inside. It felt like hell had been injected into my veins.
Liquid hell.
I wanted to scream, to writhe, to do anything.
But I couldn't.
I couldn't see, hear or move.
I was trapped in constant torture.
BADUMP!
'What was that?'
BADUMP!
That felt familiar. 'I…have I heard that sound before?'
BADUMP!
It felt…good. Warm, healing.
BADUMP!
'That sound, I know it….
It's…
… my heart..'
My eyes snapped open.
.....
Rast fought in the ranks, spear gripped into sweaty palms as he moved with his kin against the Empire's forces.
It was a hotbed of death.
Deflecting a strike, Rast stepped in, piercing the soldier's stomach with a thrust. He grinned wolfishly.
'Battle wasn't so bad…not when you were winning.'
"Hahaha", a light laugh erupted from beside him. Selom moved in tandem, a wide grin splitting his baby face.
Rast grinned back.
"A good day to fight eh Rast" Selom bellowed as he fought with a sword, carving his way through.
"A good day to win you mean."
"Hahaha of course!"
Selom fought confidently. Arrogantly. His blows were heavy, overwhelming and purely offensive, moving like rushing steel.
He turned to Rast, that grin still painted across his face. "Yeah, a good day to wi-"
His words broke off into a choke, eyes widening.
"Selom?"
Blood poured down from Selom's frozen smile.
Looking down, Rast's eyes widened as he saw the sword tearing its way back out of Selom's chest.
He froze. Watching as Selom's corpse thud to the floor, his life snuffed out.
"Selom?"
Rast's head spun. No, it seemed that the entire world had started spinning, and he was the only one standing still.
"Hey…get up" Rast called softly, his own voice sounding strange to him.
Selom didn't move.
He didn't get up, throw a wink and go right back into the fighting.
He just…lay there, still.
"No no no no no no" Rast muttered, stepping away. 'I need to get away, I need to-'
Half stumbling, half running, Rast fled the centre of the battle.
'Selom is dead.' It seemed impossible. He hadn't ever realised that…Selom could die. That dying was even possible.
It was stupidity
His bloody spear was proof that was wrong.
Yet….somehow, he never realised how real death was…till now.
An ally MageKnight moved away from a mound of corpses, flame and earth coiling around him.
Rast ignored the MageKnight, his eyes resting where the man had just left.
A dead spot in the chaos. Nothing but corpses.
Without realising, he was making his way there as fast as he could. 'I don't want to die. I want to live, I want to live!'
There, he would be safe for a bit. If he followed the trail of that MageKnight, he'd be safe…for today at least.
Breathing heavy, Rast stood there, arms trembling. Not from exhaustion. But fear.
'How did I never see it before' he thought as he gazed on the battlefield with fresh eyes.
People were dying.
Everywhere. Death, death and more death.
Rast had never seen it like this before. Battle was meant to be about winning, not dying.
BADUMP!
'Huh, what was that.'
Turning he saw a corpse laying on the floor. There was nothing too particularly strange about the body, except that it was a little young to be found here.
But, it wouldn't be the first child Rast had seen dead in this place.
The corpse's hair was white like snow, its skin pale against the backdrop of dirt and blood.
BADUMP!
'Is that sound coming from him?'
Rast stepped back, raising his spear warily. He wasn't going down like Selom.
The boy's body started trembling.
Rain began falling.
It was soft at first, barely noticeable, but quickly it grew stronger, the wind picking up into gleeful howls.
Rast turned away from the sight back to the corpse.
Its body was glowing now, white hair flickering in the wind like liquid starlight.
'What. What the hell is going on…'
He stepped back, retreating through the showering downpour as the corpse's body shone brighter, and brighter, like a reawakening star.
...…
My eyes snapped open.
A screen shimmered in front of me.
[NAME : Arthur Gravewalker
RACE: Human
TRAIT : UNKNOWN
BLESSINGS:
???'s blessing
Hade's blessing
AURA: LOCKED
BATTLE ART : [IMPERIAL SPEARMANSHIP] Apprentice mastery Lvl 2 (54%)
BREATHING ART: N/A
SKILLS:
Mana Surge (common) Beginner- mastery Lvl1 (0.1%)
Healing blood (???) Beginner- mastery Lvl1 (0.1%)
TALENT: UNMEASURED
STATS:
STRENGTH: UR
SPEED:UR
STAMINA:UR
AGILITY:UR
MENTAL:F+
MANA CONTROL:UR
CHARM:G-]
After a quick glance, I dismissed the screen. That wasn't important right now.
Someone needed me.
'Officer Mara.'
For the first time in what felt like forever, I felt calm.
More than calm, I felt good. All my injuries were healed.
Clambering to my feet my head snapped into the direction where I had buried her. It was hard to see through the sudden downpour of rain.
Just as I began sprinting I quickly froze.
A warning pulsed through me, a sensation as instinctive as breathing.
Not sight.
Not sound.
A feeling.
Something to my right.
Ducking, I barely dodged the spear that was hurled towards me. My eyes locked onto a soldier charging towards me, drawing out a short sword from his belt.
'Weak.'
I could tell instantly.
He was shaking. A slight, small, barely noticeable tremble.
His stance was textbook-perfect, but the tightness in his shoulders, the fear in his eyes. The wide eyed horror in them as he saw the battlefield, they betrayed his lack of experience.
I smiled, relishing the feeling of being superior for once.
Taking the spear in my hands, I ran forward, my mouth forming two words I'd been waiting to say for a long time.
"Mana Surge."
Power flooded my veins, drawn in like fresh air filling starved lungs. My strength surged, senses sharpening immediately.
It felt electric, powerful. Everything I had thought it'd be.
"Fucking finally."
The soldier's eyes widened in panic as I shot forward, mind freezing. He swung wildly hoping to catch me with pure desperation.
For a moment, I almost pitied him..
Ducking under his strike, I spun, slamming the butt of the spear into his side.
There was a loud CRACK as something within the soldier broke from the force of the blow.
Taking me off-guard, the soldier charged forward, tackling me to the ground, making my weapon useless.
'Shit!'
Landing ontop me, heavy blows began raining down on my body. Instinctually I shelled up, hoping to weather the onslaught.
Timing the strikes I moved out the way of one, slamming my fist into his face. My gauntleted fist shattered his cheekbone. Wasting no time, I reversed the position getting ontop, before raining down my own strikes.
There was nothing he could do as my mana-enhanced strikes shattered his arms, before caving his face in slowly, his wide horrified gaze fixed on me.
Reflected in them, I saw myself.
A nightmare in red eyes and wild hair. A predator grinning down at its prey.
If I had a dagger, I would have given him mercy.
But I wasn't stopping to go look for one. So I kept going until his eyes saw nothing at all.
Rising slowly, I searched inside, wanting to see how I felt.
Strangely, there was no remorse this time. No happiness, nor glee.
Just…nothing.
Ignoring the sword, I picked up the spear.
Then I ran.
Officer Mara was running out of time.
Night was coming.
If I was too slow, we would both die.
Tearing away the pile of corpses desperately, I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw her.
She gasped as she locked eyes with me. "Arthur! You-You're alive! How?"
"Damn lucky I guess" I replied as I scanned her wounds.
She wouldn't make it back in time in this condition.
'Healing Blood…what a sick joke.' The knowledge of how to use it was crammed into my mind, as if I'd always been able to do it.
Sighing, I slashed my palm with the spear, holding it to her lips. "Drink"
She hesitated. "Wh—"
"Just fucking drink!" I snapped. "I ain't enjoying this, it's to help you. It's almost night."
She stared at me, searching my eyes. Whatever she saw in them must've convinced her of my honesty.
She drank.
The change was immediate. Her wounds, though still grievous, slowed their bleeding. The life draining from her steadied.
'Not too strong right now' I sighed. Hopefully that would change as I grew stronger.
With a grunt, I hoisted her onto my back.
And then I ran.
'Faster. Faster.'
Through the battlefield, through corpses, through the lingering chaos of war. Every second a race against death.
'Come on, come on, come on.'
I had to make it.
I had to save her.
I had to show her—that I wasn't what she thought I was.
Above me, the last sliver of sun began to disappear over the horizon...