The fire's haze burned across the land. A Maltan fortress was scorched with flames that rose high into the air. Embers dazzled across the night sky, almost being mistaken as stars.
Tao Liu watched down from a high hilltop as the fortress burned. He sat atop a stallion with his right-hand lieutenant Sun Zhen next to him. They gazed on at the display of flames and straggler Maltan soldiers who were being slaughtered off by Hóngyèse. They watched as all resistance die along with the fighters. The battlefield was covered in their blood and when the last soldier collapsed in death, the planes grew silent except for the crackle of burning wood.
-
Spring had come and Omari was at the entrance of the magical academy. He had his sword back on his side and felt a lonely stir in his chest. Everyone he cared about stood there to send him off. He made so many friends, but the ones who let him cry on their shoulders were at the front. Pallavi and Tutzi were special to him and he was honestly glad that they were staying here. If they followed him, he couldn't promise that he could keep them safe from the dangers of war.
Jessi sat in the carriage, waiting for him as he said his goodbyes. He held Tutzi's hands and muttered, "Thank you for being there for me."
Tutzi smiled, "Of course. I'd do it all over again in a heartbeat."
His eyes wrinkled and a small weak voice escaped his lips. His face twisted into one of anguish as his shoulders trembled.
Pallavi gazed at him, then put a hand on his shoulder, saying, "You'll survive out there. You won't die."
Omari's gaze opened to show tears forming. He softly murmured, "I want to stay here…"
Pallavi let out a mournful sigh and gently rubbed that shoulder, "You know you can't."
"I want to," he mumbled.
Tutzi's expression became sad, "We'll be here, whenever you can get away."
Omari looked up to him and nodded.
Pallavi stared at Omari and stated, "You won't die. We'll see each other again. Promise."
Omari gazed at her then relented, "Promise."
He waved goodbye and remorsefully entered the carriage. Even though he gained so many skills at the academy, he was still doubtful of himself. Would it be enough against the Hóngyèse Generals? Will it be enough to defend himself while also not having to take others' lives? Or will his emotions get a hold of him on the turbulent battlefield and will he lose all control of his magic again? Will Black Gold spill from his very soul and rip the world apart? If Jessi's there, will she get killed and wiped off the map because of him? And if he survives and this news spreads, will the king see him as a dangerous threat and have him executed? Will his new friends look at him with disgust as a guillotine falls on his neck?!
All these questions stormed into his head and woke him up some nights in a cold sweat, dampening the sheets and pillows. And he felt so lonely with these thoughts because, in this great sea of war, no one would be able to truly understand his reluctance. And even if they did, there was nothing they could do about it. His only hope was to become the strongest as soon as possible and then he wouldn't be forced to spill blood for anybody.
Jessi was watching him then remarked, "You made a lot of friends at magic school."
He blinked and looked up, so lost in his thoughts that he forgot where he was.
"Almost a little jealous," she chuckled.
He stared then said, "They were all very kind to me."
"Mm," she hummed. "You may not have realized it, but you were always good at making friends. Good at fitting in. No matter where they sit in the world."
"Do I?" he wondered; he truly hadn't noticed.
"Oh, is Mr. Popular oblivious too?" she smiled. "How charming."
He really didn't know what she was getting at but continued to listen.
"Yeah, sure are good at making friends," Jessi nodded. "Perhaps it's your passive nature."
"... Perhaps."
"Hm, I wish I was good at that," she muttered, but didn't say much else.
He raised a brow. Wasn't she always making decent friends at every army camp they went to?
-
The two traveled for many days to the first encampment. It was large and sat in the middle of an opening surrounded by pine trees. There were thousands of soldiers under the leadership of General Mateo Nasir. Jessi explained the general to Omari and what he could understand was that this man was even more thickheaded and narrow-minded than all of the other soldiers he had met in the past. Apparently, he wasn't really well-liked and was a friend of Major Ben Low. Ben Low probably recommended him to the king for Omari's first missions out of spite.
Omari groaned in annoyance with the realization that these three men in power were definitely not on his side at all. It worried him about how he will be perceived once he got there and what type of missions they'll send him off on.
They probably wanted him to make great deals of bloodshed with his powers. Omari's knee was shaking with anxiety at the thought.
When the two entered, they saw many tents in the camp and soldiers running this way and that way. They were greeted by a procession of smiling people in uniform. One Omari could distinctly tell was General Nasir right off the bat. He had a large scar fitting across his face, going from the corner of his lip, over his nose, and to the top of his forehead. It looked like it must have been a very painful injury.
He stood before them as they exited their carriage and said, "Welcome, Hero Omari!"
Those words somehow felt condescending, though Omari really didn't feel like he had to prove it. The general approached him and said, "Glad to see the king's finally sending us some backup. Now we can clear out those Hóngyèse bastards!"
Omari grimaced but greeted with a strained smile, "Thank you for greeting us, General."
"Come," he waved on. "We shall show you to your tent then brief you on the situation."
As they passed through, there were lines of soldiers watching them go. Jessi stood behind him, head low and eyes to the ground. Omari kept his face up, looking ahead, and could hear their whispers.
"So that's the 'Hero' Omari?"
"What did he do again that made him such a hero?"
"Saved some people from a fire, I think."
"Really? That's all it takes to be a hero nowadays?"
"It's that stupid sword. Making him so special."
"Heard he has the favor of the king."
"Tch."
"You know, we were waiting so long for more troops and this is what we got?"
"Pathetic."
Omari had never been at the end of such scrutiny and judgment before, but honestly, he found that he didn't care. They obviously knew nothing about his situation and didn't know that he would gladly trade the responsibility of being the 'chosen one' and this sword to just about any one of them if he could. He didn't want to be here either! But he was. He was stuck here and had to deal with their pointless glares.
If they only knew he didn't want to fight, he wondered if they'd still share such detestations.
"Is that Jessi Bellows?"
They both flinched at her name and Omari glanced back at her. To his surprise, she looked smaller than usual, as if she was trying to hide in his shadow.
"It is… What is she doing here?"
"Is she playing bodyguard to the 'hero'?"
"More like playing second fiddle."
Someone in the crowd laughed.
"I remember her, she was so power-hungry."
"And glory hungry."
"So overly confident."
"Absolutely reckless."
"Do you think she's ashamed that she has to follow around the 'hero'?"
Omari's eyes widened as he looked back at her. At his gaze, she quickly averted her eyes.
"Wow, how embarrassing for someone like her."
"Bet she's not gonna get promoted by staying on the sidelines."
"Serves her right, she was always so annoying with how much she'd brag about getting to the top."
Many at once then said, "Pathetic."
Omari peered at her, seeing her conflicted expression. He internally sighed. Even though he never agreed with her opinions on this war and was also disgusted by her desire to be a patriotic soldier, he couldn't stand her being ridiculed. These people who criticized her were more or less in the same position, but they just wanted to see someone be dragged away from the top. These are the type of people who just wanted to complain and denounce anyone who was succeeding or progressing. Omari was also guessing that they were probably jealous of her too, because if he were to see at least one obvious good trait about Jessi Bellows, it was that she was ambitious and passionate.
Even if the things she put all her care and effort into were something he disagreed with, he couldn't deny that she was cunning and strong-willed. Wanting to get ahead of the curve. But these people seemed to share her same ideals, yet condemn her strive and determination. They were scoffing at her good traits instead of actually disagreeing with her devotion to this ugly war. Omari thought this was such a backwater and stupid way of condemning someone.
He stepped back some and walked alongside her. Jessi's eyes widened at that as she looked up at him.
He told her, "Ignore them. They're nobodies to you anyways. I mean… you're going to reach the top, right?"
She stared, feeling a wave of happiness rush over her, and nodded, "Yeah…"
They got to his tent, it being lavish and extravagant. Obviously too much for him, but apparently not enough for a 'hero'. Jessi stared at it with a crease in her brow then was sent to a smaller tent next door, so Omari asked her, "Jessi?"
She blinked, "Huh?"
"Wanna trade?"
Her gaze grew as she gawked at the big tent that she clearly wanted and quickly nodded, "Nn!"
And so they did, much to the general's dismay, but him being unhappy was just another bonus for Omari. They settled in and when they were comfortable, the general brought them to the main tent, where they would talk strategy and tactics.
Now, this was the part that Omari had been anxious about this whole time. Will he be sent directly to the frontlines? On an assassination mission? To blow up a town? He was dreading it. In fact, if it does come to that, he'll refuse immediately, then be executed.
His knee was bouncing up and down, his nerves fraying as he intently watched the general talk.
"Your first mission will be to rescue hostages from Fort Halda."
Omari's eyes widened in surprise. A rescue mission? Well, that's much better.
"A rescue mission!" Jessi chimed, giving Omari the hopeful side-eye. "What a great start."
"Yes," the general nodded. "The king insisted that we keep your reputation of heroism ranked up high. Untarnished. To keep up civilian morale or something. If it was up to me, I would use this tank-like ability of yours to clear out the battlefield." Omari's face momentarily paled. "It would be glorious! But unfortunately, orders are orders. I'm afraid the 'hero' might be made out to be a poster boy."
Yes, please. Omari would gladly be a poster boy, whatever. Hell, he'll be your waterboy. Anything, just anything except actually killing or being killed.
"Well then we must follow the king's orders to a T," Omari quickly said. "Knowing the king, he'll most likely want me to be the pristine image of heroism. I will perform as such… for the king." He needed to add that last part in fear that the general would assume he's putting words in the king's mouth, which he was.
"I see," he huffed. "Well, then we'll start with that. Though you two, you must have had a long journey coming here. You should rest. We will start the mission tomorrow."
They stood up and saluted, "Yes sir!"
After leaving the tent and once inside Jessi's big tent, Omari finally let out a large sigh of relief. He sank to his knees and groaned into the ground. He wanted to praise the heavens with thanks. Yes! YES! Just a rescue mission! Thank you benevolent god that was looking after him.
"Don't throw a party just yet," Jessi scolded. "This mission could very well end with a lot of fighting and death."
Omari raised his head, "It may have a lot of fighting…" then he stood up, showing a face filled with determination, "But no death! Not from me!"
She gave him an awkward frown then sighed, "Yeah, okay."
"I'll follow your lessons, Jessi," Omari told her. "I've practically thrown Ben Low's out through the window."
"Hey, that rhymes."
"I'm not going to kill anyone."
She stared then quizzically wondered, "Have you?"
"Huh?"
"Have you ever killed anyone before?" she tilted her head in interest. "If you ever have, you never told me."
Omari watched her in silence for a moment then begrudgingly answered, "Yeah."
Her face twisted and she asked, "How'd it happen?"
He averted his gaze and said, "Hóngyèse troops raided our camp three years ago. They came in the night and started killing everyone. The Hóngyèse soldier came after me, put a knife to my throat…" His eyes shut tight but then let go, "I held him back, was able to overpower him, and shove him off. He kept swiping his knife at me, trying to get me. He nicked me a few times." He showed that his hands had some old scars, "Here and here." He traced them with a sad melancholy and said, "He was persistent and I was cornered. My hand landed on a scalpel. And in one swift move… it was all I needed…"
She quietly listened and then asked, "Is he the only one?"
"... No," he stated. "There were many times that the camps weren't safe and many tried to get in."
"How many is that then?"
"Two, two soldiers in total," Omari grimaced, feeling the regret in his bones. "I thought Tao Liu was the third but… well… I have killed before. I know. I am not safe from that, I just… don't want to do it anymore. It makes me sound like a hypocrite. I don't want to die, yet I have killed, but I also don't want to kill. And well… I didn't want to do it back then either. I wish I didn't have to… but I wanted to live more."
"It must be conflicting," she stated.
Omari said nothing more, just looking at the floor.
She stared then remarked, "Perhaps with that sword, you won't have to kill anymore."
He gave her a sullen smile, "... Perhaps."
-
The following morning they headed out with a battalion and marched to Fort Halda. The plan was to distract the fort by having a full-blown-out attack with the Hero Omari then have Jessi and many others come in from the back to get the hostages out and cause fires inside the fort.
Fort Halda existed on some dead lands, where once there were trees and grass, now was burnt ground. Cannons and broken flags sunk into the dirt, not even a single flower could emerge in this choked-out earth. It was desolate with not much cover. The best the Maltan groups could do was use the shield wall tactic and utilize pre-made potions to be the first line of defense against the enemies' arial fire. There was no magic-user on board to direct these spells, except for Omari that is. And the closer he got to Fort Halda, the more nervous he became. Such large obstructing stone walls, high atop a barren hill, any windows were tiny and used for cannons or archers.
The general who was leading the attack (from the back) commanded all soldiers to split off into three squads. Two groups fired from different trenches at the Hóngyèse archers, and Omari's, which was the smallest squad, would charge up the front. Omari didn't know if he would be able to defend these people and was wondering if the general saw them as the most expendable. They held swords and shields, but five in the middle carried a large battering ram to bust down the wall. Or at least, that's what the plan would look like to the enemy. Omari was hoping to at least get these soldiers to the front gate. Once there and starting to bash in, he can at least provide a better defense by deflecting arrows and the like. But if the enemy decided to send out their own, he obviously didn't plan to shed too much bloodshed, but perhaps knock them out here and there.
They stood at the beginning of the path, waiting for the sound off. A silence filled the air as they waited, Omari's squadron in the front and Jessi's rescue group stealthily approaching Fort Halda from behind. The air was stifling with the scent of old blood and all soldiers were tense in their stance. They waited and waited.
Then the horn blew. Loud and echoing. They were off, running up the hill, every man and woman yelling their battle cries as they charged up the dead land. The enemy started firing below. The Maltan's first line of defense was the spells they cast and created a large transparent bubble before them. But considering how strong the spell was, Omari was guessing they'd make it halfway up the trail until it broke from cannon fire.
The soldiers then broke off into their three groups, those two entering the trenches as they made cover fire for the center team to lead forward. Omari's breath was ragged, but he was still focused, focused on not putting himself under too much duress, even though yes, this was his first battle. He just constantly told himself that he was the strongest thing on this battlefield, nothing could seriously hurt him.
He unleashed the power of his sword and transformed midrun. The light was so blinding that even his fellow soldiers' steps lagged at the sight of it. The Hóngyèse troops were even caught off guard, their hands slowing when they shot their arrows.
When the glow faded and he revealed his gigantic form cladded in white and gold, the Hóngyèse internally panicked. Some yelled, "It's the Hero Omari!"
He wasn't gonna lie, that felt kind of good that his presence lowered their morale and made them hesitant to fight, but it was barely a mere thought. Omari leaped forward and saw a cannonball be fired directly at him. Time slowed, fear puddled in his stomach, but he was already here. He knew the stakes and met that cannonball head-on.
Omari swung his sword to meet the ball and watched metal collide with metal. But the weight of the cannonball was practically non-existent as he knocked it off the battlefield and had it fly far away, past the treeline. Those that saw what happened had their mouths fall to the ground and even Omari felt pretty good that he wasn't splattered into guts and entrails.
The Maltan troops stared then cheered out with loud excitement as morale boosted tenfold. Even General Nasir who was looking at the battlefield from a distance was thoroughly impressed.
The Hóngyèse soldiers were not so pleased and opted to continuously center their firepower on Omari who kept blocking it like it was nothing. He yelled to the Maltan men and women behind him, "Go! I can concentrate their firepower on me and still defend you guys!"
They did as he said, moving forward. Omari kept the Hóngyèse archers occupied for a moment until an experienced Hóngyèse Major who manned the fortress knocked them out of their frightened stupor to not forget the Maltan soldiers coming closer to the wall. Omari noticed this and quickly returned back to his squad, deflecting as many arrows and cannonballs as he could.
Quickly, the team reached the gate of the fortress and began ramming it down. Omari knocked a couple of arrows away and called out to the soldiers, "How long should we do this for?!"
"Until the horn blows!" one yelled.
Omari kept shielding them from projectiles, but then heard something sizzling. In the middle of his vision, he saw a small black ball that was fizzing and sparking at one end, making him yell. He jumped in the air and kicked it, sending the bomb rolling down the hill and then shortly exploding. He looked up and saw tens more explosives falling down onto their heads, he screamed, "MOVE!"
Acting quickly, he grabbed as many soldiers as he could at once, which turned out to be five, and hurriedly jumped away. The bombs went off and blew up anyone who was left at the ram that didn't move away in time. Omari took those five further down the side of the wall and turned around to see six soldiers were caught in the blast with ten escaping. But a few backed further away from the wall to escape the impact and were left out in the open.
Hóngyèse archers aimed at them and fired. Omari was quick, able to save two while one got shot in the chest. That man fell fast to the ground and Omari took the two to safety, soon going after the one that fell. The archers fired at him, but he speedily dodged as he scooped up the heavily injured man and took him to the side with the other soldiers. He saw him struggling and gasped, "I'm dead… aren't I?"
Omari scanned over him and said, "Actually no, you'll be okay. The arrow shouldn't have hit your heart or lungs."
"Serious?" he coughed. "How'd you know?"
He gave a calm professional smile, "I'm a nurse after all."
The soldier's eyes widened in surprise and muttered, "A nurse?"
He nodded and called to one of the previous swordsmen he saved, "Hey! Look after him! I'm getting the others!"
"They're dead!" he countered.
"I'll be the judge of that!" Omari barked then commanded, "Don't take that arrow out, or he really will be a dead man!"
He jumped away, causing the archers and cannon men to target him. Omari blocked a few attacks and then glanced at the people caught in the blast. Two had their heads blown off and another had their legs and hips explode into pieces. He deflected another cannon, seeing that two more dead; intestines spilling everywhere, and the other was burned but died by her head hitting a sharp rock on her fall. But there was one who had extreme burns on her arm and lay there motionless, in shock. Nice, one still alive.
Omari swiftly picked them up and rushed to the side, announcing, "This one's alive! We should retreat!"
"The horn hasn't been blown yet!" someone snapped. "We have to hold our position!"
Omari's brow furrowed. If that's the case then that would either mean they would have to stay here and have more bombs be dropped on their heads, or they would have to go out and risk being shot at by cannons and arrows. They needed a distraction.
But then again, they had him. And wasn't the 'Hero Omari' the biggest distraction of all?
The horn mustn't be too long now. They just had to bide their time until Jessi got out. Omari called, "You retreat! I'll hold the position!"
"Wha- We can't! We have orders!"
"You also have wounded!" he countered. "Take them back to the left there!" He pointed to the nearest squad. "There's no point in all of you throwing your lives away! Like fish in a barrel!"
They stared, looked between each other, and nodded. With that quick agreement, they hastily left, and Omari glanced at the wall and jumped. One then two strong kicks and he was flying up. He dashed up the wall, making it to the top, and landed on the platform inside. The Hóngyèse soldiers yelped in surprise, beginning to swing at him which he blocked with his sword. Then another tried to bash down on top of his head with a sharp blade, but he shielded himself with the gauntlets on his wrists. He had never been in any real intense combative fights before, but he had to buy time. So he fought. Omari blocked every weapon they sent his way, disarming a few soldiers then kicking them back. His size and strength were really helping him right now, so no soldier could quite physically compete with him.
And the speed and adrenaline that was coursing through his veins, the racing of his heartbeat that was making him go even faster. He was doing the unimaginable, by pure instinct alone. The strength, the agility, the reactions, it was blowing his mind. Every time he moved it felt like he was gliding on air. It almost didn't feel real. And half the time he didn't know if it was the sword's powers or his combat lessons. He had to admit, all that training with Ben Low did make his reactions faster and his action quicker, but who truly helped him was Jessi's passive teachings. Training him to not take a life and helping him unlearn all those violent tactics that Ben Low taught him.
Omari was up there for a few minutes, dodging sword and arrow alike when he heard the horn sound. When he heard that, he immediately leaped down, landing on the ground, sprinting off. The Hóngyèse soldiers were aghast and startled by his shift in goals. He quickly departed Fort Halda's grounds, still avoiding any onslaught on the way out. He ran and ran until he sped all the way to the Maltan barracks. He was panting, nerves fried, and heart racing.
He just- he just successfully dodged dying on the battlefield. Like it was nothing. What a relief! He wanted to throw up!
General Nasir saw him and called out, "Omari!"
Omari was still running high but obediently went to the general, also seeing Jessi there. She had a big proud grin to herself and a thumbs up. Around her, were the prisoners of war that were kept in Fort Halda. Omari absentmindedly went to her and asked, "It was successful?"
"Hell yeah it was!" she beamed.
Omari smiled, happy that she was okay. In fact, a lot of people were okay. And-And he didn't take a single life! He wanted to be excused so he could privately weep tears of joy.
But the general called him again, "Omari!"
He snapped to attention, looking directly into Nasir's eyes. The general gave a detestful glare and said, "Your performance was decent. Less soldiers perished than I originally anticipated."
Omari's eye twitched at that.
"But it still could have been less!" he snapped, thoroughly angry. He looked on with a very disapproving glare, "You could have done better! I see that now! With your power! You could have saved far more! But!" He hissed through gritted teeth, "You did not kill a single Hóngyèse soldier! Why?!"
Eh? He didn't know about Omari's reluctance to kill? He blinked then decided to put on a big fat lie, "I apologize, General. Though I am strong and fast. I am useless with a sword. No matter how much training I received. Which wasn't very good training."
"Wasn't very good?!" he loudly scoffed. "Major Ben Low taught you! You're insulting him by saying he was a bad teacher!"
"No, General!" Omari called. "I am just unteachable!"
"Nonsense!" the general barked. "No soldier is untrainable!"
This one is.
Omari clicked his teeth. "His teachings just didn't compliment my powers and strength, sir!" Omari flat-out lied. "I apologize!"
"Ridiculous! Ridiculous!" he shouted. "You may be a 'hero' but you have quite a lot to learn! Even if you did 'save' the day!"
Asshole. Omari wanted to roll his eyes into oblivion. Honestly, fuck this guy.
"I will be reporting this to his highness!" he snapped. "And you will be running a hundred laps around this damn camp! Do you understand?!"
"A hundred?!" Omari offendedly gasped.
"What?!" the general yelled. "You have magic powers! You can run for at least a hundred!"
Omari's face grew red hot with anger but knew saying something would just make it worse. He huffed and marched off to do these hundred laps. At least he'll see how long this transformed body can run for.