All of Set's squad picked up wooden swords and positioned themselves in formation facing Saladon's twelve men. The contrast between the weapons was evident, as while Set's men wielded wooden swords, Saladon's twelve soldiers had real swords. Jarek, one of Set's soldiers, found the situation strange and tried to dialogue with Saladon's men.
"Why are we using wooden swords while you have real swords? This is not a fair training," questioned Jarek, but Saladon's men remained silent, with impassive expressions.
Winy, one of Set's soldiers, looked up and saw that Set, her commander, maintained a calm expression as always. This reassured her. She touched Jarek's shoulder and said, "It can't be much. After all, the commander is calm. Let's just do our best!"
Jarek then looked at Set and noticed the same calmness that Winy had noted. This comforted him a little, but he was still restless with the disparity in weapons. He made a quick decision. "Switch your wooden swords for real swords! Let's face them on equal footing," ordered Jarek.
Set's soldiers switched their wooden swords for real swords, picking up weapons from the nearby racks. The tension in the training field increased as they prepared for combat. Saladon's dozen men remained impassive, ready for battle.
Saladon observed everything from his elevated platform, a satisfied smile on his face. "Let's see what your soldiers are capable of, Set," he said.
Set, now beside Saladon, watched his men's preparations closely. He knew this combat was not just a test of strength, but a proof of loyalty and courage under unequal conditions. His heart was with his men, and he hoped they could demonstrate all the skill and determination he knew they possessed.
Saladon observed his soldiers preparing for combat, while Set positioned himself by his side. With a calculated smile, Saladon began speaking to Set, his voice laden with memories and ulterior motives.
"When I found you lost and alone, I immediately saw that you were different, Set. At first, I was intrigued as to why you were not discarded like the other Arkon bastards," Saladon said, his voice a mix of condescension and admiration. "Then I realized it was a sign from the god Necros. After all, a dead-alive who fought with all his strength to survive in a world that rejected him could only be a gift from the dead, legitimizing the prophecy I received about my legacy. That is why I adopted you, gave you the best education and had you grow in the art of the sword..."
Set maintained a calm and neutral expression, absorbing Saladon's words. He knew the true test was not in words but in what was about to happen on the training field below.
While Saladon still spoke to Set, he initiated the combat. The eyes of Saladon's dozen men glowed with an opaque golden light, and they split up, advancing against Set's squadron with deadly speed and precision. Like golden flashes, the twelve passed among Set's men mercilessly, quickly massacring half the squadron.
Jarek was paralyzed with wide eyes, seeing the horrible scene before him. His friends' heads being remorselessly torn from their bodies by the opponents. The screams of pain and the sound of steel cutting flesh filled the air, creating a scenery of pure horror and chaos.
Winy, next to Jarek, trembled with fear and rage but tried to remain steady. She knew she had to react, had to fight, even though hope seemed lost. With a war cry, she charged at one of Saladon's men, her sword gleaming in the morning sun.
Set's men, even facing such a massacre, tried to reorganize and fight back. They knew they could not let the sacrifice of their companions be in vain. Set, observing from above, felt a mixture of pride and despair. He knew this was a test Saladon was using to prove the loyalty and strength of his soldiers, but the cost was too high.
Saladon's dozen men continued their relentless attack, each movement calculated and lethal. Jarek and Winy fought with all their might, trying to protect those who remained from the squadron. Set clenched his fists, knowing he could not interfere directly but feeling each blow as if it were against himself.
Trying to fight, Jarek lands a blow to the neck of one of Saladon's men. However, as if by magic, the wound began to close, catching the attention of Saladon's guests, and the man merely spun his sword toward Jarek. He tried to jump to avoid the blow, but his torso was cut in half. Jarek's scream of pain echoed across the training field, and Set, looking down, remained with the same expression, even as he burned with rage and fear inside.
Saladon's dozen men massacred almost forty men in just a few minutes, leaving only a few survivors. They continued killing until only Winy remained. She had a large chest wound and had lost one of her breasts. Fallen on the ground, the scene was terrifying. All of Saladon's guests were indulging in what they saw, drinking and screaming in ecstasy.
Set's rage in that moment was so great he was feeling nauseous. Noticing Set's discomfort, Saladon thought his nausea was due to the massacre. "Feeling sick, Set? You, who have already seen this scene several times," Saladon asked. Little did he know that the nausea Set felt was from his ardent desire to rescue Winy and kill everyone there. But he knew he could not lose his disguise; after all, he still had much to lose.
As Winy tried to get up, Saladon's dozen men slowly approached her, like predators circling their prey. Their golden eyes gleamed coldly, reflecting the cruelty of their hearts. Set, still observing from above, felt his heart accelerate. He knew Winy had no chance against them, but revealing himself now would mean the end of his ruse and possibly the death of all those he had sworn to protect.
Saladon stood up and began descending the stairs toward the training field, smiling cruelly. "Come, Set, see how your soldiers fight for me. See how they die for me," Saladon said, approaching Winy. He stopped a few meters from her and looked at the twelve men. "Finish the job," he ordered.
Set, with a heavy heart, watched as Saladon's men raised their swords to deliver the final blow to Winy. In a last desperate effort, Winy lifted her head and looked at Set, her eyes full of despair. "Commander... please..." she murmured.
At that moment, the memories of the previous night's party came to Set's mind. He had been sitting at one of the tavern tables as everyone drank and enjoyed themselves. Winy approached him with a playful smile:
"Come on, commander, let's celebrate! This might be our last moment alive, hahaha!" she joked, trying to pull Set into a dance. He, still intrigued by Saladon's request, did not get up. Winy then sat down beside him:
"What will you do after all this is over, commander?" she asked.
"I don't know, I've always wanted to buy a beautiful house in the forest and finally retire there, live peacefully, listening to the sounds of nature, the animals, rivers, birds in the sky and the wind rustling through the treetops. Yes..." said Set, with a slight melancholy smile.
Winy was amazed by Set's dream:
"What a beautiful dream, commander! You know, since you're now part of my family, I think I'm going to live there with you!" she said enthusiastically.
Set then lowered his head and replied:
"Dreams are just dreams, Winy. We are led by our destinies to always fulfill our function, we are drawn into a vortex of reality that uses us in the web of destiny and discards us to die when we complete our task. Therefore, I do not allow myself to dream; for me, it is something unreachable."
Winy placed her hand over Set's hand and said:
"You know, commander, I think you're right. I think our destiny has already been drawn and we can do nothing to change it. But do you know what gives me strength, even after everything?" she asked, her eyes welling up.
"What gives you strength?" asked Set, curious.
"This life is just a test. We live, we fight and we die, but if we follow what we've been given, in the end I believe that all of us will have a beautiful house in a forest like your dream, or in a large green plain, or in mountains with precious stones, or wherever your heart wants to go."
Set was amazed by Winy's thought, placed his hand on her head and smiled. She smiled back, but lowering her eyes, she asked:
"Do you believe we will have a life after this one, commander?"
Set pondered for a few seconds and replied:
"I wish I had your confidence, Winy."
But before Set could finish the phrase, Winy said:
"I'm a hypocrite, commander. Even believing this, I'm still very afraid of dying."
Set just smiled at her, and looking into her eyes, he said:
"Don't worry, I'm not going to let you die."
When Set returned from his memory, he saw that Winy was no longer alive. Saladon's men, like thirsty beasts, continued stabbing and cutting the lifeless body of Winy. Her face was turned towards Set, her eyes open and frightened, staring directly at him as if still asking for help.
The scene deeply disturbed Set. He stood up and, as if flowing with the wind, passed through everyone, positioning himself before the men who insisted on continuing to desecrate Winy's body.
Set knelt before her and with his right hand closed her bloodshot eyes. He looked up and thought, "I wanted to cry, Winy, but as I told you yesterday, we are led in our destinies, and my destiny is only to feel hatred!"
Seeing Set down there, Saladon's dozen men charged at him. Saladon screamed for them to stop, but still they ignored Saladon's orders and continued advancing against Set.
When Set turned to the dozen, Saladon's guests and even Saladon himself felt the worst chill run up their spines. Set had an evil, most demonic and terrifying smile they had ever seen before. His reddened eyes gleamed as his silver hair was dirty with Winy's blood.
Saladon's guests felt a supernatural fear, something extremely terrifying to the point of making them turn their faces away. Felix also felt all that and just thought, "That was him, that was the face you had that day, that was the face of Seglathad, that was the face of the Scarlet Eyes Demon!"
Set slowly rose to his feet, his gaze fixed on Saladon's dozen men advancing toward him. He was calm, as if the fury within him had been channeled into a deadly focus.
Even ferocious, Saladon's men hesitated to see Set's smile. His thirst for blood was now frightening.
With his demonic smile, Set walked toward the men who, influenced by thirst for blood, continued advancing on Set hesitantly. The Scarlet Eyes Demon walked serenely ahead. He emanated no murderous aura, nor any thirst for blood. He showed no hatred, no pain. His face showed no expression except that smile, that macabre and demonic smile. And with it, Set walked closer and closer to the men advancing on him with their thirst for blood.
Set's last step silenced all sounds in that training arena. Saladon's guests, hiding their faces, for a few seconds heard no sound at all. Felix, with his eyes closed but ears alert, knew what would follow were the sounds of the most macabre symphony he had ever heard in his life, sounds that still cause him nightmares to this day. He named it "Voices of Hades," for to Saladon these were the screams tormented souls emitted for all eternity.
And after some startling seconds, as if tormented, Saladon's dozen men screamed. With altered, distorted voices, they screamed. At that moment, Saladon's guests feared and trembled at the sounds they heard in that place. Not even the worst screams of the massacred from Set's squadron were as frightening and haunting as the screams of the men who, until that moment, had uttered no sound. "No, this isn't true, this isn't true..." thought the envoy from Volkaron, hands over his ears.
When the infernal screams ceased, silence followed for a few seconds. Saladon was the first to gather courage to open his eyes. Then the other guests did the same. The scene they saw was even more haunting. Three bodies were without eyes and with distorted limbs, another four had their entrails torn out and legs removed, and the last five had their spinal columns contorted and were decapitated. A truly horrifying vision taken from the darkest parts of hell.
Set stood in the center, just with the tips of his fingers dirty with the blood of the twelve men, besides the hair marked with Winy's blood. The aura enveloping that arena was not one of death, but of torment, an aura so thick and black that the only wish of the guests was to leave there as fast as possible. As if their bodies instinctively sensed the fear of death, they stood up and, without even speaking to Saladon, ran away. They forgot manners and posture and, like a small sheep fleeing a great hungry dragon, they ran with all their might, leaving only Saladon behind.
Set just remained there, that smile no longer on his lips. Saladon, with a trembling fearful voice, said: "I know how different you are, Set, my son. That is why you will no longer command a horde of weak men, but will be the great Warlord of my army of golden-eyed men."
Saladon observed Set for a moment before turning and leaving the arena, leaving behind the charnel field he himself had ordered. The vision of the mutilated bodies and the aura of torment still weighed heavily in the air.