War came into him in silence.
It was a quiet silence, the one which you would feel in the depth of your soul faintly. He stood with a cold weapon in his hand and gazed upon the vast battlefield which was filled with black spikes coming up from the ground. The work of a maiden.
Beside him were fellow soldiers, all blessed by their God, like him. His smooth breath created a cold mist in front of his lips as the weather was freezing cold. It was a late winter. Not the month fitted for war but the king was hungry for blood. Their blood.
A loud war cry emerged behind him as the general ordered. The ground trembled as they ran straight to the spikes. Fearless of death.
Arrows rained down from the sky and he dodged all of them with great agility. Sometimes he slashed with his sword. Another with a round wood shield to block the incoming arrows.
Despite his effort, he was hit to the left side. It was because his right leg had been injured during three years of battle. He clenched his teeth and dashed forward.
Right now, he could see the end.
Suddenly a giant man pushed him to the ground, sitting on top of him and swinging his giant fists to his back. The giant wore a symbol of the enemy. The black sun etched on his helmet.
" Die. " The giant laughed.
He braced for the impact. Pain spread through his stomach. It was a hot pain. He felt warmth like a mother bracing a child during winter.
He looked down. A fist was in his stomach with blood dripping from the elbow. The giant took out the fist and licked his blood with a grin on his ugly face.
" Not bad. You must have struggle a lot. " The giant commented. " I can taste your hopelessness in your blood. " The giant laughed and walked into another battle.
The same happened. With each swing killing a man.
' That's is the end! ' He thought as he felt the cold. ' In the end, we never have a chance to face The Black Sun. '
He chuckled.