Darkness covered the sky as if in a nightmare. The sound of buildings collapsing, people screaming, and monsters shrieking was deafening. The roar of war lingered, the smell of cut flesh and spilled blood filled the air, unbearable to those unfamiliar to it.
Not me. I have been in battles for as long as this New World existed, more than I care to remember and count. And yet this seems to be the last one. For me, and for the world of the humans from the Old Earth.
My great blade flowed in circular and powerful motions. The strikes tried to overcome the gigantic monster in front of me, each blow hopeful and heavy. My hands trembled and bled every time as if rare steel hit moving fortress of pure metal.
My sword had no name. Sharpened with rare metal under the magic forge of master smiths, a two-handed and double-edged long sword, its silver shining blade much longer than a child. Many fell under its sharpness, and yet my enemy's body was a natural azure armor, the sunlight reflecting its majesty, blade unable to leave a scratch.
His horns, large and curved, towered menacing over me, while claws long and sharp were ready to tear me apart. The greatest challenge I have ever faced, an Ath'Taren King called Azard, The Azure.
I fought until I had no Qi left. My greatsword weakened, chipped and broke, my strength sapped away by deadly wounds. And the monster in front of me unscathed, unfazed, unmatched.
What have I trained so hard for?
Why did I kill and bleed in this hopeless world, to survive and protect, only to fall in front of an evil I cannot defeat?
To see everything I held dear, once again taken away before my eyes?
The city's destruction was a hard blow. The barren land from the past transformed, houses I helped build, crops I helped sow, friends I helped grow. They were brave in this chaotic life, now lifeless by my side, tattered and broken, torn, or slashed. There was no beauty in death, no glorious efforts. Only crushed bones, dreams, and hopes.
The common people I swore to protect fled or died. There was no mercy from the Ath'Taren, no parley, no rest. They marched, conquered, killed, and moved on to the next target.
My end was nigh. The broken sword in my hand flew away, a swordsman's shame. Azard's piercing claws ripped through my chest.
Armor? Hah.
As if any armor protected from such tremendous raw and brutal power. I fell, strings cut, resting my back on a nearby bloodied and broken wall.
"Strong, for such a feeble existence. Fighting to such lengths after facing so many of my kind!"
Azard's monster mouth opened, his four brilliant and small red eyes flashing with a dominant glow, "Join us, human. I will make you the King of your people under me."
I laughed. Joining the Ath'Taren meant giving up all freedom and humanity. Only devotion and subservience remained. A bloody cough interrupted me.
"If only I was stronger... I would cut off yours and that traitor's head." My gaze landed on a beautiful figure behind the Azure Armored Demon King, golden hair dancing in the wind, alluring and deceitful. One I used to love.
"A pity. Things might have been different if I fell for your plan, human."
I smiled.
"What is it they call that?" he looked askance at the golden-haired lady, "Oh, a smile. An amused expression. In this situation? Humans are strange creatures."
"No, it's just… you thought that was the only plan?" I shook my head.
Azard's eyes flashed with surprise. A surge of Magic Qi erected a glowing emerald barrier around the entire Ath'Taren army.
"This is... Foul Magic."
What the Azure Demon King called "Foul Magic" was the Sacred Magic of an Ancient People from another world, the Yllahice.
My eyes drifted to the barrier, filled not with hope, but with sorrow and guilt. 'Lanlia, forgive me. In the end, you had to do it…'
"Find the source." Azard's voice reverberated inside the barrier, thundering roar that moved the minions under his command, "Human, what are you planning? A powerful barrier, not enough to stop us. Time is your only prize, yet it is but mere despair. It will not change your people's fate."
The Ath'Taren minions searched for Lanlia, but she was no longer in this foolish world. The price to pay for casting such a powerful magic was not small.
"Bastards. All of you are going to find out with me if hell is truly out there. I have been dying to know!"
I have learned from my master never to mix New Qi and MaQi, and never to lose control of my magic. The consequences would be unthinkable even if the surge of power led to victory, sometimes even worse than death.
I no longer cared about the consequences.
Magic circles erupted one after another, casting every useful spell I knew. My MaQi went haywire, causing a splitting headache, as if my head was about to be torn apart. Without New Qi, I burned my own life essence, my vitality, which allowed my wounded and tired body to get up and fight before the fire of life completely wore out.
Creating a powerful Magic and Qi sword, I once again clashed against Azard's azure armored body, this time wounding one of his arms just below the powerful claws. It was the first time I saw the Demon King bleed, dark viscous liquid dripping out, the earlier unscathed armor now slashed open.
The entirety of my power, soul and life, and it only left a cut, not even enough to take one of his arms. I only needed to weaken him as much as possible and keep him there. Our hope laid elsewhere, "YOUR HIGHNESS, DO IT NOW!"
The Demon King's chest armor spiked up from sensing danger. My King's powers were famous, allowing the kingdom to survive in this chaotic world to this day. He was an honored sword, always ready to give up his own life to protect his people.
As long as I held the Demon King, Lanlia's barrier would not fall, and my Lord's powers would finish him.
Lanlia already died, the King and I would also die. An insignificant price to pay to rid the world of the Ath'Taren scourge. A plan known only to the three of us, our last resort, one kept secret even from our closest ones.
But nothing happened.
No magic surge, attack, or noise. Only emptiness, silence, and the lament of the dead. Lanlia's barrier faded away, the last memento of her life, in vain.
Even Azard had no action. He raised his defenses, waited for an impact, but nothing came. One of his subordinates said in their foul and horrible sounding language, "King. The human leader ran away."
Ran… away?
I sensed multiple Qi further and further, my King among them. After all those beautiful speeches, promises of honor and hope, sacrifice for the greater good?
He ran away?
When he only had to unleash his power one last time and save countless lives?
He ran away?
He fucking ran away?!
The MaQi disappeared from my body together with remaining hope, a frail wish torn apart by betrayal and cowardice. I bet it all, gave everything I had, lost friends and kin, fought enduring horrible pain. I believed the King was worthy of loyalty.
The Azure Demon King turned his attention to me. His four eyes contained only pity. It hurt me more than any of his attacks ever could, deep into my soul. The Ath'Taren hated disloyalty. His disgust towards humans only grew.
'Ah, if only I could go back to playing gacha games and watching my favorite TV shows...' My last thought was about a life I had long ago in the Old World. Before hell came, took over, and forced us to survive in this chaos.
The Demon King's claws fell, covered with a demonic glow, slashing my body into pieces. A warrior's death. He either admired or pitied me, wanting to send me off painlessly.
Painlessly?
What bullshit.
The pain of being betrayed twice wouldn't go away even after death.