After getting dressed, Kane rushed outside, captivated by the beautiful mix of shades and hues that both lit and darkened the sky. Night was coming fast, and his legs carried him just as quick through the streets of Thalamar.
Finally, he felt like a changed man, wearing clean clothes, his black coat that swayed back against the rush of the wind shielded him from the cold, matching his deep black hair that also dragged in the air. His fresh boots remained intact, no longer letting the air enter through the heels that his previously ruined ones did, and they were certainly far more comfortable, letting him feel as though he weren't running bare foot.
While he still had no weapon to use, nor the training to use one, he held the wand disguised as nothing more than a crooked twig, determined to get some use out of it, as he once did in the nefandite hideout. In his other hand, he held a large, brown grimoire, its face adorned with a pentagram, reflecting its arcane nature, which he'd use to learn spells.
He wondered why Maleagant never gave him these clothes before, seeing as it would've made his life a lot easier and more comfortable. But he quickly realized it was for that reason alone.
Maleagant created a harsh and rough life for Kane, though out of good will. It was because he had no parental figure to rely on that he gained the survival skills he did, and beyond that, he proved to himself and the sage that he would abstain from petty theft and hurting others to survive.
Sure, he may be potty-mouthed and at times zealous, but such traits were inherently found commonly throughout people of all backgrounds and upbringings.
Hopefully it's nothing too fucked, so he thought, proving that even past his changed look, he was, deep down, still the same Kane that everyone came to know and hate. Perhaps the clothing really didn't change anything? Perchance.
Nevertheless, he rounded the bend, finding hundreds of guards stationed near the Bell of Peril, along with Bauer standing by the wooden pillars, overlooking the distance, where the beanstalk was still visible, reaching into the clouds.
"Bauer," called out Kane, frequently swapping his gaze between the guards who simply watched with perfectly still bodies and Bauer, who leaned against a pillar, "what's going on?"
Bauer looked down, finding Kane's new look far more respectable than what he was before. He pushed himself off the pillar, crossing his arms as he shook his head.
"It's a catastrophe," he replied, blowing through tight lips as he tossed his black sword to the ground as he walked away. "We need to get out of here."
Kane turned around, staring at the back of Bauer's head with clenched fists and furrowed brows. "What, why?"
"Go and see for yourself."
Kane looked back, stepping past the pillars as he walked with eyes that scanned the land. Just what does he mean...
There it was: A line of nefandites, extending far to his east and west, as far as the eye could see, marching towards Thalamar. Many nefandis knights, occultists, and guards, along with the addition of new ranks he'd never seen before, gave off varying colours to the otherwise plain greenery.
One of the newer ranks, as large as the towering guards, marched ahead of the group, wearing dark grey, burnished armour that was as thick as the logs fashioned into pillars. Their greaves, more so boulders, moved slowly, flattening the grass beneath their every step. Their small helms, awkwardly disproportionate to their larger frames, glowed red through small openings, and four jagged horns protruded upward, shaped like the wings of a bat. Their weapons, equally as menacing, were a long metal rod with a boulder adorned with spikes all around it, just as dark as their armour.
Yet, it wasn't just those brutes that presented an overwhelming sense of dread in addition to the many numbers behind them. Walking ahead of everyone else was a singular figure of equal stature to the brutes and guards—in fact, just slightly taller than them.
"What the fuck is that thing?" mumbled Kane, his loud breaths masking his words as his furrowed brows stood up and his jaw fell down.
Unlike the rest, this one in particular was truly someone unique; otherworldly; ancient. To each side and the front, blunt, asymmetrical horns extended from the helm, with the addition of a thin, muted green circle that floated behind his head that scrutinized every corner of the land.
Though Kane hadn't yet experienced it, he imagined the armour to feel rough and weathered, like a fossil or rock. His chest plate, ribbed and heavy, looked as though it were grown, rather than forged. It's muted colour, like a mossy green carapace of a turtle's, was angular and jagged. His greatsword, easily three-quarters of his size, was thick and coloured much the same, resting along his horned pauldrons. The blade was square where the pointed tip should have been, indicating that it was more of a hatchet than a sword, meant to cleave and rend flesh mercilessly.
And of course, another unwelcomed sight, dwarfed by the unique figure's stature, was none other than the bishop. His once pristine armour, now merely an echo of its former glory, was dirtied by blackened patches and a torn cape. His helm lacked one of the many layered horns that extend back. Proof of his struggle to come out alive from the destruction of the nefandite hideout.
Kane shook his head as he feared for the worst. "So, you brought the adults to deal with children, bishop?"
"That's right," said Bauer, rubbing his forehead as he looked at the ground with pursed lips, quickly earning both Kane's and the guards' attention. "That is not something we can fight. To put it in a familiar way, we're absolutely, totally, undeniably, most definitely, fucked beyond belief."
"So?" replied Kane, walking over with his hands held out to his side as he frowned. "What are you saying? That we run?"
"Actually, yes. That's exactly what I'm saying."
"Are you serious, Bauer? We're just going to let them steamroll through Thalamar?"
Bauer snorted as though his breath was stolen from him, pointing with an open hand towards the army that marched onward as he stared at Kane with a smirk and a raised brow.
"You wanna fucking challenge them? Be my guest." He crossed his arms, taking his gaze to the many guards that stared back at him. "The same goes for all of you. I have no intention of fighting a war where there isn't even a chance of us winning. I say that we issue the order to evacuate, so that even one person in this sorry city can escape with their lives."
"And what the fuck did you expect when you said you wanted to fight Nefandyr?" retorted Kane, revealing his gritted teeth as he glared Bauer down. "You're gonna run now and then what motherfucker? You think you won't see this army again? They will literally have you by the balls at all times then!"
"We cannot let them siege Thalamar like this," said the voice of Ephraim, who stood atop the platform, next to the giant, golden Bell of Peril. "This is our home; our sanctuary. It is our responsibility and honour to die in battle, if we must."
Bauer's eyes widened as he failed to understand why he had to argue fleeing from odds that they stood no chance against. "Get a fucking grip on reality, brothers!" he yelled as he looked amongst them. "The literal fucking twilight of existence is on its way, and you think there's honour in dying in an unwinnable fight!?" He scoffed. "You know what, you guys are right, actually. This is your home, so you can spend your last moments dying for it... But this isn't my home, so don't expect to see me out there, split in half, crushed under their might, or worse! You'll be made into sacrifices if they're not merciful enough to grant you death!"
"If you really were our brother," said Kane, looking down as the sunset cast a shadow over his somber face, "then you wouldn't abandon us."
"I'm your fucking brother because I'm telling you to live, not to die!"
Kane wore a snarl as he yelled back, "Then go and fucking live! Go on, so-called brother! Go and live to see another day!"
Bauer's enraged face quickly faded into one of confusion as he took a step back, as though the weight of Kane's words forced him back.
"Really?" he replied, squinting as he tilted his head and stared into Kane's eyes. "After all we've been through together?"
"It hasn't even been fourty-eight hours since I met you, Bauer," said Kane, averting his gaze. "We're not brothers. We're just two people who got caught in the same mess."
Bauer stumbled back once again, crushed under the weight of Kane's words, feeling his heart plunge into an abyss as the words pierced right through him. The phrase lingered in the air, each syllable tearing through him as he shook his head, refusing to believe it. He fought back against a tsunami of tears, staring at Kane, hoping to see that it was merely anger written on his face that compelled him to say such a thing, but all he saw was a somber one that refused to spare him even one glance.
He scoffed, putting up the farce that the finality of the words meant little to him, looking off to the ground beside him. "I guess you're right," he said, though the will to speak was a pressure that suffocated him more and more with each syllable. "We're just..." He searched through his mind for the right word, but nothing sat right with him, especially since the last thing he wanted was to confirm Kane's statement.
And so it was that he held is silence, slowly stepping back, before running off.
Ephraim watched as Bauer ran through the streets, navigating towards the northern exit, occasionally raising an arm to his face—for what he could only assume was to wipe away tears. He looked at Kane, who had finally raised his head to see that Bauer was truly gone.
As he glared at him, Ephraim wanted nothing more than to berate Kane for such shameless and devastating words; to tell him to go and apologize, for this was not the person he chose to help out while everyone did the opposite. Though, there was no time for it, for a more pressing matter was steadily approaching Thalamar, ready to reap every last soul in the humble city.
"Men!" yelled Ephraim, grabbing the guards' attention immediately, his voice loud and clear, commanding and inspiring. "Tonight, we fight against accursed devils! Once men, who shed their humanity, who've bathed their souls in the blood of innocents! Their souls, long lost with their descent into savagery! And yet, these accursed devils outnumber us a hundred to one, no—a thousand to one! They march, thirsting for your blood, raring to ravage your souls, ready to satiate their gnawing hunger upon your dreams! Does that mean there is no hope? Does that mean we fight for nothing? No! This is what we've trained for! What we have lived for! And if we would tuck our tails between our legs and run now, then our births would have been meaningless! We fight so that we may exact the retribution that the departed yearned for in their final moments! Remember how the sage ventured alone straight into the heart of the enemy to save two young men! Honour his unwavering valour in the face of darkness!" He paused, letting his words echo in the silence, before yelling, "My men!"
Kane watched as the hundreds of guards slammed the hilt of their pikes and a foot into the ground, all perfectly in unison, the sound of rattling metal echoing through the street.
"My soldiers!"
Again, they slammed their pikes and a foot.
"My brothers!"
Again, they slammed their pikes and a foot.
Ephraim picked up his pike, and like a graceful javelin thrower, he mimicked the motion, pointing his spear towards the enemy. "Let their oceans of blood be their retribution!"
The guards raised their pikes into the air, all of them letting their voices echo with an inspired rage that shook the world, charging into battle with an iron will and steadfast courage.
Kane, who stood in the centre of it all, watched as they stampeded past him, spilling out of Thalamar's invisible border with heavy steps that sent tremors through the ground.
It's time to send these fuckers into the depths of hell, so he thought, holding the grimoire open as he walked onward, ready to give it his all, even if it were in the smallest amount of usefulness.
"Kane!" yelled Ephraim, grabbing his attention immediately and forcing him to a halt. "Are you sure you want to fight?"
"Yes."
"You do know that we cannot protect you, right?"
Kane froze. Despite already knowing that every man was fighting for Thalamar, he realized that it was also each man fighting for himself. No one would be able to protect the other, for that would only reveal more flaws and create more problems for everyone.
Still, he nodded, with determination and newfound courage. "I know that at any moment, I could die out there. I may be of little help, but," he paused as he looked back upon the many houses, wondering if it really was Thalamar that he was fighting for, or if it was to honour the late Sage, "something tells me that this is what I need to do." He clasped a fist around his wand, looking down at it as he questioned his motives some more. After all, deep down, he didn't really care about the denizens that always treated him poorly. Maybe it's just because I don't want to see Nefandyr succeed?
Ephraim nodded, wearing a bright smile before he hopped down the tall platform, sticking a heavy landing on the paved road. "Then let's go." He looked off into the distance, watching as the enemy rank and file ran to intercept the guards. "If death awaits us, then so be it."