Northern scanned his surroundings, he wasn't sure what was what anymore as he gazed down at his blood-stained hands.
'What am I even doing?'
His mind was foggy and unasked questions pushed him deeper into oblivion.
He gazed down from the heap of corpses as his fellow warriors chained what was left of their foes, condemning them to a life of slavery… as miners.
He had been like that too, once…
But, had he, though?
He had always been a general… a war general, one that fought only for the kingdom of Red Mines, heralding ruthless victories.
Hailed as a hero… by the monsters.
And yet nothing felt wrong about it.
His eyes dimmed, its living sparks disappearing. The blue hue of his pupils, dulling and fading. All that was left of him was emptiness.
He picked up the onyx blade and jumped down from the heap of corpses, walking behind the column of monsters that hurled away their captives with chains.
