‘Where the hell am I? Am I dead or what? There’s no light in there. Dammit,’ thought Laudis, walking around the dark space.

  “You couldn’t beat him after all,” said Con, standing next to Aamir.

  “I’m here? What happened?”

  “You’ve lost consciousness. Still, it was a miracle you fought with such injuries. That Whip of Sands is a great deal. Not only did it cause you to bleed, but you were sucked out of mana. You’ve got five percent of your total mana at best. You cannot break through his defence. It’s quite pointless for you to return,” the Carolan summarised.

  “Then what the hell should I do, huh?” the youth muttered.

  “Nothing. Just wait for it to be over. As long as you’re here, you are sure to survive. That’s one of the confidential things Will shared with me. So, if you stay with us, you’ll live. What you say about it?” continued Dohit, looking at the boy.

  “If I come back, I won’t kill him. Solisia is immobilised, and I’m exhausted. My forearms are cut, my mana is non-existent, and my flesh is tired. No Sword Technique works on him. I’ve cut him once, but that was the most I could do. Tell me, what would you do in my place?”

  “...”

  The previous Makred Ones were silent. They didn’t move a muscle, nor even blink in those five minutes of silence. Laudis sat down, rethinking everything.

  ‘Damn. If I return, there’s no winning. If I stay, I’ll survive, but she won’t. Logically, it’d be better to stay behind. Then, why the hell do I feel a strange urge to protect her? I was living on the streets, and now I’m developing sympathy? If I had met with thirteen-year-old me, I’d have been punched by him.’

  “Even if I come back, I can’t win. I’ve used everything I’ve got.”

  “How much are you willing to sacrifice?” wondered Inceptis, tightening the cloth around his eyes.

  “Whatever it takes. If she dies now, I won’t have a pleasant future. I’d get kicked out of Crusaders, and then live once again on the streets. It’s not like I’ve got any life goal, either. Unless you consider preferring to die in a battle a life goal. That’d be it. So, what should I do?”

  “I see…” the Piscarian murmured.

  “Are you sure we want to do this?” he continued, glancing to the left.

  The Blind Sorcerer nodded slightly.

  “Right… Come closer, Laudis.”

  The youth, slightly hesitant, walked to them. Each of them laid a hand on his shoulder. A yellow and a deep blue light came from, respectively, Aamir and Con. A weird sensation pierced through his body. He felt nauseous and sick. His legs bent on their own, yet he supported himself with the Carolan. With every second of this procedure, he was growing sicker and sicker. His eyes were closing, blood started weeping down his nose, and he started to sweat like crazy. After seven minutes, they let go of him. In that moment, Laudis uncontrollably knelt down.

  “It’s over, you can stand up,” stated Aamir, helping him stand up.

  “What’ve you done to me?” Crimson Eye wondered, observing them.

  “You know, we’ve got to use the given mana to exist, right?”

  “Yeah?”

  “We’ve given our renaming mana to you; you should have around eighty percent of your total mana capacity. I hope, no, you have to make the right use of it,” declared Con, gesturing with his hands.

  “But doesn’t it mean that you’ll disappear?” the boy responded, somewhat concerned.

  “Exactly, that’s why we were hesitant to give it to you. Still, it’s better that way. Meet us in heaven, or hell. Heck, I don’t know. Just meet us in the afterlife. What you say about that, huh?” the knight muttered.

  “That’d be great,” replied Laudis, smiling.

  “That’s our last meeting, farewell, Laudis,” said Aamir, extending his right hand.

  Laudis shook his hand vigorously, and then shook Dohit’s one. The two figures slowly faded away in the darkness. Their bodies started to be see-through. A light grey smoke was filling the area. After a few seconds, both sorcerers disappeared.

  “Thank you,” the boy whispered, closing his eyes.

  The second troop rushed at once at Denir. He didn’t move even a bit. The butcher was observing their attack, giving them the needed upper hand. When his foes were around four metres from him, the confectioner started his offence. His arms turned into snakes, poisoning the first six opponents in the span of three seconds. The man jumped above them with the help of his transformed limbs. He dove at the undead located on the lower end of the formation. While he was in the air, the reptiles instantaneously turned back into normal arms. He split apart the skull of a vampire from the inside. Soon after, six others followed his fate. The blood spattered on the sandstone and on him, steaming during the cold night. The rest observed the horror, trembling for the first time in fear. Their brains were hanging down their open skulls, giving them stomachaches. His gauntlets were stained with the crimson ooze, dripping down. A vampire took a swing at him, aiming at his neck. The sword bounced off his fur, like in some fairytale. In reality, beneath it, there was a steel plate protecting his neck from such injuries. Denir was a madman, but he was a genius, too. The butcher slammed the aggressor to the ground and pierced his heart with his own weapon. At that moment, the poisoned foes dropped dead like a stack of dominoes.

  “Seven dead out of seventy,” he muttered, swinging his arms.

  The fifty-seven foes rushed once again at him, but now they broke the battle order. Their offence was chaotic, driven by emotion rather than logic. It was something that Vampire Butcher had been awaiting since the start of the clash. The troop somewhat organised itself into eleven irregular groups. A smirk drew on Moodeen’s face. He withdrew the sword from the corpse of the late warrior and distanced himself. He started murdering them one by one in different ways. Unlike before, he now possessed the strength that could decapitate devils. Red strings of the fluid were flying across them, like it was raining. Not even for a moment was the butcher hesitant about his choice.

  ‘For a very long time, I was searching for my life goal. Some suggested family, but unlike them, I never felt the urge for such constructs. It’s not that I find women unattractive, but rather I don’t want to have intercourse with them. Additionally, a son would have been raised by a lunatic father. It’s better that way. I had to do something useful with my pathetic life. I became a butcher who executed justice. Firstly, because of my personal goals. But then, I was executing it because I wanted to do something useful. The end justifies the means. Most wouldn’t agree with me, and that’s okay. I’m a mentally ill man; thus, I couldn’t care less for the consequences of my deeds. I'm ready to take the blame, since I was hiding in the shadows my whole life. Honestly, I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing now, but it’s too late. My flesh is full of power, but I know it’s fake. I’m just a mere vessel of borrowed strength. After I’m done with them, I’ll go for Omar. He’s the reason behind the attack’ thought Denir, slashing the foes.

  Stolen story; please report.

  After five minutes, Mooden decapitated the last opponent. He sat down on his body, resting.

  “Four hundred thirty-four vampires and three humans. That’s quite a large number of murders. I’ll rest for a while and go after the fraudulent president. The blood won’t be necessary now,” the man muttered, cleaning his armour off blood.

  “See, your boyfriend is dead. What should we do now? I’m feeling like giving you a mark on your face. What you say about that?” said Sloth, grinning at the girl.

  Solisa was too terrified to process his words. The vampire was rather wimpy-looking, yet in that scenario, he looked like a true monster. The Earth sorceress trembled in fear. She tried grabbing her flail with her shaky left hand. The Upper Hand kicked her weapon away.

  “Now, shall we start the process?” the undead continued, smearing the Whip of Sands on her right cheek.

  A small droplet of blood swam down her terrified face.

  ‘No, no… I—It can’t end this way. I’m too young to die. Laudis, why are you dead? Weren’t you supposed to help me? Dammit! To hell with that! I was supposed to marry a rich man! Why the hell did I choose to join the Crusaders?! If only, if only I had a second chance, I’d have never chosen them. Fuck…’ the girl thought, crying silently.

  “No need to be scared, after all, you’ll be dead in five minutes.”

  “Sword Technique No. 1: Heart’s Arson 200%,” whispered Laudis, standing up.

  His heart started beating like crazy. His eyes, which had turned back normal, filled with rage. Veins popped out of his flexed muscles. The cuts on his forearms somewhat closed up, weeping little to no blood. Lastly, his Mark of Knowledge began to illuminate, like a torch, in crystal clear white. Foosh! The youth rushed at the foe like a madman. Before the general had even a chance to glance at the sound source, the boy took a swing at him. At the last moment, the vampire summoned ice, sparring the attack. To his surprise, the blade obliterated the summoning without a problem. The first troop looked at the sight with shock. It wasn’t normal that someone broke through his ice with such ease. The steel went into his chest for an inch. The undead rapidly jumped backwards, invoking an ice wall.

  ‘What the hell was that? Why’s he looking like that? Why do I feel such a bloodthirst from that bastard? I won’t do it yet. I was distracted by her. Yes, that’s the reason,’ thought Sloth, swinging around his whip.

  “Scared?” the boy muttered.

  “Not at all, come at me if you dare.”

  The youth started his offence. He ran at his foe, dodging every ice spike summoned at him. The projectiles pierced through the sands like butter. Even if one had skittered him, his skin or even muscles would have been ripped apart. The girl observed their fight in disbelief. She couldn’t comprehend that a boy one year older than him fought with so much vigor. The Upper Hand tried attacking him with the Whip of Sands, but he was too agile to strike. It seemed as if his body moved on its own. His mind was empty like the desert he fought in, focusing solely on the clash. His Sun Blade went through the ice without any obstacles. Crimson strings were flying across the starry sky like in a parade. Despite his boldest efforts, not even a single protection saved him from getting cut. Sloth altered the density of ice, its thickness, or even mineral proportions, yet nothing worked. For the first time, Sloth was scared of a man.

  ‘How?! How can a mortal be so strong? He didn’t use an aura, so what’s his source of power?’

  Suddenly, Laudis slashed his left hand, splattering the blood on the undead’s wounds. He stuck his sword into the sand, putting his red blood on his right hand.

  “Mark of Knowledge, trade my mana for his sight,” he whispered, closing his hands.

  The liquid illuminated in its colour, evaporating soon after. A sound of cracking bones echoed throughout the area.

  “Why can’t I see anything?!” the vampire shouted, rapidly blinking.

  Tshh! The youth cut his left arm.

  “Huh?!”

  The vampire began distancing himself, summoning ice walls. The undead couldn’t localise him, because it wasn’t a typical scenario for him. His opponent effortlessly cut through the summonings, leaving shards all across the area.

  “So you’re an Apostle! I’d never imagine they could recruit kids,” he continued, trying to block his strikes.

  Suddenly, the Upper Hand felt an odd coldness in his neck. Then, a blow of cold wind came after. He felt the blood erupt from his neck. Laudis walked away from him, cleaning his sword. The vampire could see once again. He glanced down to see his pierced neck. His legs bent on their own, and his breathing grew heavy. Long-forgotten memories came back to him. There were his mother, father, and younger brother.

  ‘I remember it, it was then when they died. But why the hell am I grown up? I was eleven at the time.’

  All of them were sitting near a campfire, eating elk meat.

  “What do you want to do when you grow up, Eligio?” the older man asked.

  “I want to be a soldier,” instinctively answered Sloth.

  “That’s good,” he replied, patting him on the head.

  Out of nowhere, dozens of arrows started pouring down from the sky. All of his family members were murdered on the spot, leaving him alone, bleeding.

  ‘No, it wasn’t like this. I survived that. Why the hell am I on a deathbed?!’

  The three translucent figures appeared in front of him, giving him a hand. At first, the undead accepted it. But then he snapped back.

  ‘No. It can’t end like this. I can’t die now. I refuse. I…’

  “I refuse!!!” shouted Sloth, echoing through the empty space.

  He looked around. The Upper Hand was in a dark space without anything. Perhaps describing the space as a void would be the most sufficient.

  “No, no, no… I can’t… I don’t want to… I… I don’t want to die yet,” he muttered.

  A single tear poured down his right, hollow cheek.

  “There’s only one way, but it’ll kill me for sure. I have to do it. I guess I wasn’t strong enough to win against him. I’ll die in fifteen minutes. At least, I’ll protect my honour; no, my name. I’ve got no honour after all.”

  He took a deep breath, closing his eyes.

  “Hellish Release: Ultimate Ice.”

  Sloth returned to the battlefield. Laudis turned back in disbelief. Two minutes ago, the vampire was on the brink of death, and now he was standing like a well-rested warrior. His grey eyes cracked into many pieces, erupting with blood. Underneath them, there was a pair of typical vampire ones. The general looked emotionless, releasing immense amounts of mana.

  ‘How is it possible? I thought he was dead. What has he done?’ the youth thought, tightening the grip around his sword.

  “First troop, attack the girl! I’ll take down the boy,” the Upper Hand declared, walking in his direction.

  “Huh?” muttered Solisia, shaking.

  Seventy vampires rushed at her, ready to kill her.

  “Nooo!” the boy shouted, running to her.

  “Stop it,” stated Sloth, freezing his legs.

  The ice was vastly different from the one before. It was foggy white and seemed somehow denser. Laudis didn’t notice it at first, but only when he tried moving.

  ‘Huh? What’s that? Why can’t I move? There’s ice?! Then why the hell do I feel like my legs are on fire?’

  “What the hell have you used on me?!”

  “It’s simple. That’s ice, but quite different. Everything has a limit, even coldness. The thing around your legs is, in fact, ice, but chilled to the lowest possible temperature. Not even a particle of water is moving in that structure. Precisely, the ultimate ice negates every movement. The sensation you feel is coldness, but your body can’t process it; thus, it sends signals as if it were hot. You could describe it as the ice so cold, it burns,” the vampire replied, shortening the distance.

  “No!” the boy shouted, glancing at the girl.

  “Am I going to die?” she whispered, observing as the Mirage Wings were metres from her.

  “The Lightest Cloak invocare,” said Denir, aiming at her.