I did pretty good!

  That has an accent to it by the way.

  Deid preatty gooud!

  Though my eyes fudging hurt.

  A haters gotta hate.

  “Yes…. yes…! All according to– bruh.”

  Some horsies ran out of the field as soon as the light of the sun touched grass.

  Are they riderless? My eyes can’t see from here.

  Am blind. Oh bliend I tell ye.

  Great night attack! I missed my sleep, however.

  Like always, let future me handle it.

  So me now.

  I hate myself.

  I want to die.

  The bell in that wooden camp rang.

  “Aish.”

  The few officetorials got to work.

  “Tommy say, what kinda bread do you like?”

  “I’m not sure sir.”

  I eat all manners of em.

  Toasted especially.

  Egg sandwich, buttered, grilled cheese sandvich, baguette. Croissants definitely count!

  Ough they taste good.

  Alas some are straight abominations.

  The only way to rid the world of them…

  “Let's get crackin.”

  Devour.

  Canis Exilin Gerhardt.

  Now called ‘Tommy’.

  A commoner's name.

  Pride would flare immediately.

  Anyone with power would crush that disrespect.

  The ash called pride stayed as ash.

  Staying the same over the years.

  It does not even bother me. Even more so it’s from them.

  The new ‘Servant’ of the king of this small country.

  The Servant in strange clothing.

  Not an utterance of name. Only referring to themself as a ‘Servant’.

  An oddity.

  Caring though requires thought.

  Hoisting myself on the horse, I waited.

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  The dawn of this day started with a bell and crackling echoes.

  Mere dots in the distance, plumes of fading smoke trailing high into the brightening sky.

  On the field, rows of men stood.

  “Charge! For the king!”

  ““For the king!””

  Commanding it to go forward, I followed, treading until the distance enlarged. Galloping, the beating of the ground created dust.

  The imperial camp had half of the wall defense burned into lumps of charcoal.

  Resulting in the infantry near the walls showering them with those strange projectiles.

  Desperately defending, they had not yet realized our existence.

  However as we got closer, their now mere dot figures became more whole. Faces drenched in fatigue.

  “Target the mages and archers!”

  Steering my horse to the left, they had finally noticed.

  “Cavalry!”

  A natural disaster of a stampede.

  Crushing those standing in the way with marks. Caught off guard, they tried to retaliate.

  Lobbing off one head, the blood spurted high, and another man tried to help another, only to be pierced in the neck.

  The infantry near the wall then rushed in. Firing wildly with vigor.

  “They’re coming back!”

  Quickly turning and breaking their ranged support into pounded flesh, the imperials were stuck facing two points of attack.

  Being squeezed harder with each minute.

  An officer did their best, only to be nearly skewered from a poleaxe. The person next to him however, was paraded with heft of several others, lifted high above.

  And now I directed my horse to him.

  The light brown haired young man turned pale with fear being chosen as the next target.

  “Surround them!”

  To escape he ran. But with others bunched together, there was no chance.

  I swung my sword down. Taking his head. Alongside two others with shrill screams before ultimately being silenced with a trample.

  Looping out of it, the amount of dead men walking was uncountable.

  Nevertheless, I plunged right back in.

  Reaping the heads of those in my path.

  Their blood and bodies running until realizing no control.

  And another with a smashed chest.

  The infantry skewered many, instilling dread.

  I raised my sword.

  The blood flew to the sky.

  — —

  Was it worth it?

  “Gurhk–!”

  It spilled out of my mouth.

  The flowing taste of iron.

  The sparking fervor, drenched in cold water. Left to gasp undoubtedly in the wind. A mocking of the arrogance it showed earlier.

  “Let me through! Let me throu-UAAH–!”

  The fearful staked with the crime of flight.

  “Hold the line! Hold it unti–”

  Those nearby were showered in blistering blood.

  The officers head now a shell carved out.

  –Pop!

  Again, another loses part of their head. The helmet unable to withstand, freeing itself from the pressure. Sacrificing part of itself just a bit. Leaving the remainder firmly entrenched into the skull.

  “Come on! Come on!”

  They charge with fire. Cutting men down with an invisible sword the eye cannot comprehend.

  Those close engage.

  It pools in my mouth. A hazy, fading existence. The reaper is coming.

  Metal pulled out of long thick poles. The blood being dragged alongside it. It searches for more. It takes more.

  Silencing the breath of the praying.

  Unleashing a bestial roar set to consume.

  The reaper…

  The reaper…!

  I can’t breathe.

  Everything is slipping.

  Am I falling?

  A blurry soldier of the kingdom jams their spear into the throat of a soldier of the empire.

  I hear no sound. But the point struck becomes a torn cloth. Stiffly waving with nothing holding it.

  The kingdom soldier rips it out of the imperial soldier.

  Splaying everything with red.

  Red.

  A smile adorned on the remaining.

  Fear of those being hunted.

  My eyes stop moving. The fiendish smiles move for more.

  The darkness creeping in.

  A hand reaches out to me.

  In the other, it drips to nowhere.

  Gently coaxing me.

  I no longer have a body.