The night sky was a rare sight of beauty in the midst of the war, a canvas of dark velvet sprinkled with glittering stars. The soldier with green hair, a lieutenant by his insignia, gazed at it with wonder and gratitude. He felt lucky to be alive after another day of bloodshed and horror. He smiled and turned to his companion, a dark-tanned man with hair as blue as the ocean.
'The night sky looks clear for once,' he remarked, hoping to lighten the mood.
The blue-eyed soldier snorted and looked away. He had seen enough of the night sky, and the day sky, and the endless fields of corpses and ruins. He had lost count of how many Celestrian he had killed, and how many of his own comrades had fallen. He had no interest in the beauty of nature, only in the end of the war. He replied with a bitter sarcasm,
'Maybe because we killed all those dastard Celestrian like good soldiers should.' His sapphire eyes reflected not only weariness from the ongoing war but also a yearning for peace amidst the chaos that engulfed the battlefield.
The green-haired man's smile faded as a loud alarm pierced the air, cutting off his reply. It was a signal of an imminent attack, a warning that they had to prepare for another fight. He and the blue-eyed man exchanged a quick glance, then sprinted towards the nearest officer. As they ran, they could see the flames and smoke rising from the walls, and hear the roars and shrieks of the monsters.
"What's the situation?" the blue-eyed man shouted, his voice commanding and authoritative. He was a high-ranking officer, a captain of the elite forces. He had seen many battles, but none as brutal and relentless as this one.
The officer saluted and reported, "Sir, we have a massive horde of monsters approaching from the east. They have breached the outer defenses and are heading towards the inner gate. We need reinforcements, now!"
The blue-eyed man cursed under his breath. He had hoped for a moment of rest, a chance to recover from the previous skirmish. But it seemed that the enemy was not going to give them any respite. He turned to the green-haired man, his friend and lieutenant, and said with a bitter sarcasm, "Funny how a clear sky just means more troubles, wouldn't you say?"
The green-haired man sighed, feeling the weight of the war on his shoulders. He wished he could share his friend's cynicism, but he still had a spark of hope in his heart. He believed that they could win this war, that they could end the conflict and restore peace. He looked at the night sky, searching for a sign of hope, and said, "Maybe it's a sign that things will get better, that we'll see the dawn soon."
They reached the inner gate, where they joined the other soldiers who were ready to face the horde. They drew their weapons and waited for the order to attack. They knew that this could be their last fight, but they also knew that they had to fight for their lives, for their comrades, for their cause. They were soldiers, and they would not give up.
The blue-eyed man heard a chilling howl from behind him, a sound that made his blood run cold. He turned around and saw a monstrous creature charging at him, a creature that dwarfed the other monsters he had faced. It was an X variant of the Minotaur, a rare and deadly beast that had the body of a bull and the head of a man. It had horns, hooves, and fur, all covered with scars and blood. It had a mouth full of sharp teeth, and a single eye that glowed with malice. It smelled of rot and rage, and it sounded like thunder and pain.
The blue-eyed man felt a surge of fear, but also a surge of duty. He knew he had to face the beast, to draw it away from his men, to protect them from its wrath. He was a captain, a leader, a soldier. He had fought many battles, but none as brutal and relentless as this one. He had to fight for his survival, and for the survival of his people. He had to fight for his cause
He ran towards the beast, his blade in his hand, his magic in his veins. He dodged its attacks, and aimed for its arm, hoping to disable it. He used his magic to enhance his sword, to make it sharper and stronger. He managed to cut the beast's arm, but it was not enough. The beast roared and swung its other arm, hitting him hard. He flew back and hit a tree, feeling a sharp pain in his chest. He coughed up blood, and felt his magic fading. He was wounded, exhausted, and outnumbered. He knew he was in trouble, but he also knew he couldn't give up.
With limited energy, the man could only muster a parry against the relentless Minotaur, fortifying his durability with a simple spell. It was a basic spell, He couldn't mustered any more magic. He had learned the hard way, that dark magic was too dangerous, too unpredictable, too addictive. He had seen what it had done to others, how it had corrupted them, how it had destroyed them. He had felt what it had done to him, how it had drained him, how it had hurt him. He had s, to never let it consume him, to never let it kill him.
He braced himself, and leaped onto the monster's neck, his blade pressed against its thick hide. He knew it was his only chance, his only hope, his only option. He had to kill the beast, to end the fight, to do his duty. He summoned the last reserves of his strength, and exerted every ounce of force, miraculously managing to sever the Minotaur's neck. He used his sword, his weapon, his friend. He used his skill, his speed, his courage. He used his will, his spirit, his soul.
As the creature crumbled, the blue-eyed man gazed upon it, his eyes reflecting the weariness that consumed him. Fatigue weighed heavily, unnoticed by the man, who, too tired to comprehend the severity of his injuries, collapsed into unconsciousness. Alone in the encompassing darkness, he succumbed to the silent embrace of unconsciousness, the battle's toll etched across his battered form. He was a soldier, and he had fought well.