The demon lord was dead, felled by my blade, beneath my feet. I was covered in blood, sore and bruised, back to the cold blackstone wall of the dark citadel. The Holy Sword of Eris steamed the monsters black blood of the half reptilian monster splayed before me. I felt the heat of Ophelia to my side. I smiled. We had made it.
¡°We did it.¡± I spoke to the party. On behalf of the emperor, we set off on an epic quest. A long journey, filled with difficulties, bonding through each adversary they faced. I turned, looking into Ophelia¡¯s emerald eyes, leaning my face into hers. I took her face in my hand, pulling her closer-
¡°A toast! To victory!¡± the war priest of our party, Maximillion, interrupted me. Ophelia blushed and looked away. I gladly stood to accept the cup he offered, a reward well earned for a job well done. We had traveled over continents, across the world, slaying many monstrosities, and in doing so, I had earned my name and title. The Hero- the Sword Saint.
¡°You were carrying wine in that bag of holding, Max? I thought alcohol wasn¡¯t godlike.¡± I started, drinking deeply from the ornate, silver chalice. Max handed me his second cup, which I passed back to Ophelia.
¡°Now is the time to rejoice!¡± He passed a third cup to our parties tank, Dimitry. ¡°Almost all of the enemies of the Empire are dead.¡± Max smiled widely. I had never been much of a fan of him personally, but he was one of the best priests for turning undead and demonic forces to ever live. The wine he carried was a fruity blend, unlike anything I had tasted. Surely expensive, sweet on the tongue.
¡°Max.¡± I spoke, sitting back down next to Ophelia, whose face was still flushed. ¡°Just where did you find this?¡± I asked, leaning back. ¡°This wine is-¡± suddenly, and without warning, I felt an extreme pain in my chest. I grabbed at my shirt reflexively, nearly vomiting. I felt bile drip from my mouth.You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
Poison Inflicted <500> Damage!
I swiped the notification away, then I swiped at my mouth, staring down at the red liquid that covered my hand. ¡°Max¡ what is this?¡± I looked up, seeing Dimitry falling to the ground, pressed to his knee. A manic look came to his face, and he charged at Max without hesitation.
¡°Imperium bastard!¡±
Max swiped out, leveling Dimitry to the ground. He rolled where he landed, manic eyes locking with my own. I could see blood trailing out of his mouth. Dimitry prepared to rise. ¡°This is for the good of the Empire.¡± Max proclaimed, in his holier than thou attitude. ¡°It¡¯s a shame you all perished in the fight versus the demon lord. WIth this, there will be no more threats to the empire. Don¡¯t worry; your legacies will be positive. Your friends and families will be well taken care of, granted titles of nobility for their contributions.¡± Max paced, dumping out the wine from the last chalice he filled.
Poison Inflicted <500> Damage!
I fell to my knees, gasping. Reflexively, I turned to Ophelia, who was our party¡¯s healer. I reached out towards her. As a healer, her health pool was much lower than mine. She was laid over on the floor, blood pouring from her eyes like tears, flowing from her nose and mouth. She twitched as we made eye contact. ¡°No.. No! You¡¯re going to be okay!¡± I picked her up, leaned her back against the wall, and began rummaging through her bag for an antidote. I watched her eyes follow mine, she sat otherwise unmoving, before I found it, uncorking the neon blue liquid and lifting it to my mouth-
My head was battered aside by Max¡¯s mace. I felt the impact rattle my skull, and tried to stand, but dizziness overtook me and I fell back towards the floor.
¡°The Emperor cannot allow a hero more powerful than him to live. You were a threat to the Empire.¡± I heard his foot prints echo behind me. My entire body burned, and my limbs were no longer obeying me. My sight was overwhelmed with red. I tried to shout, gurgling. Ophelia looked at me, blood and tears coursing down her face. Why? Why? Why? I wish I could have said she smiled at me, content in that final moment. Instead, I saw a face full of terror at the thought of death.
Poison Inflicted <500> Damage!
I heard the wind whistle behind Max¡¯s swing, his mace falling down onto my head. With a final crunch, it was over.
Chapter 2: Darkness
Sword Saint
Do you remember what it was like before you were born? That¡¯s the only way I can describe this place.
My world is still. Me and my thoughts, in void.
What surrounds me isn''t darkness, but the lack thereof. How long has passed? How long have I been alone with my thoughts? Alone to remember the image of my love, laid out in front of me? Blood and wine spilled on the floor. A black temple. Betrayed by my comrades. Alone I sat in darkness. I had no eyes to cry, but I still felt.
Sadness.
Misery.
Rage.
The Emperor betrayed me. For what? That I might try for his crown? I festered in the absence of darkness.
He took everything from you.
He took everything from me.
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This world was not worth saving.
I should have never saved this world.
There was no point of reference for time, only my internal thoughts, unyielding like a sea that rocked the shores of my mind, waves of madness that crashed and boiled inside of me. Maybe it was seconds, or hours, or years, but the waves finally stilled. I was alone, in darkness, rocking over a black ocean that stretched beyond the horizon.
If I could do it all again¡ I would rip the Emperor apart, piece by piece. What did Heroism win me? I risked my life to save the world. The Emperor must die. Finally, the stillness broke. I awoke to a horrible world, covered in blood.
¡°Well, nothing much strange round here unless you count the Mercy¡¯s kid.¡± Ben replied, leaning back.
¡°I see. And what was strange about this kid? This¡ son of the Mercy family?¡±
¡°The Mercy¡¯s kid had always been a strange one. I ¡®member the day he was born. Never seen a baby like that.¡± Ben recounted to the soldier, rocking in his chair. He breathed in deeply from his pipe, hunching even further than his geriatric form normally was and coughing out a bad take of tobacco smoke. ¡°Never seen a baby like that.¡± He wheezed out. ¡°Din¡¯t cry none, did not scream. Just looked back at me with those cold, dead eyes. Still though, it was a successful birth. His ma lived, din¡¯t she?¡± He asked. A scribe in the corner of the room wrote every sentence down, line by line.
¡°And was he otherwise normal?¡± the Imperial Inquisitor asked, eyes distant under his iron helm.
¡°Well,¡± Ben played with the straps on his overalls, having set down his pipe. ¡°Normal? I¡¯d reckon he don¡¯t talk much. Don¡¯t play with the other kids neither, course their parents don¡¯t mind none. Most the village prefer he stay away. Always lookin on with them cold, dead eyes. You reckon he some kind of, of mind eatin monster? We all heard the stories ¡®bout the Bane. I¡¯d hate for-¡± Ben stopped talking at a gesture from the soldier.
¡°How long ago was the child born?¡±
¡°Well, I¡¯d reckon bout three winters. Maybe four. ¡®Course back then I was still tillin¡¯ the lands. Nowadays I just handle the inn. Maybe work with a few of the animals, course, but no butchering. These old bones jus¡¯ don¡¯t have it in ¡®em anymore. Now in all my days, we aint seen no activity nothing like your camp come through, cept, course, that one time the hero¡¯s party searched these woods.¡± The soldier turned to the second on his right, nodding. He walked out of the room.
¡°It matches up with our general timeline.¡± The scribe spoke.
¡°Thanks for your time. It¡¯s exactly what we needed to hear.¡± The soldiers hand fell onto his swords handle.
Chapter 3: Burning
Sword Saint
Swing.
Swing.
Crash.
I grunted as I swung the training sword. I had painstakingly carved it myself, stroke by stroke. It wasn¡¯t truly enough to cut flesh like the holy sword I once wielded, but it would cause damage if it hit, and it was more than enough to be counted as a sword by the system. The systems changes to my attributes had aged it more rapidly, enabling much finer motor control and strength than should be possible. At morning, I would carry water to and from the stream, and to many of the more elderly neighbors in the village. By noon I would tend to our families only cattle. The afternoon I spent in the woods, relentlessly training my stats. Day in and day out, from the time I could walk, I repeated this cycle until my hands were blistered and sore, and then I pushed myself even further. Sweat dripped away from my body. I adhered the wooden sword to my waste, sliding it into my leather belt.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
My family here were too poor to afford metal, and it was rare to come by in a village this small, consisting of only a small medley of houses. They say that living in the woods, separated from your pains, was good for the soul. Living here to me, was like a festering wound. Every day the Emperor lived was a day that I suffered. It consumed me totally, and so I threw myself into my training.
Sword Skill: Slash has progressed to rank 9
This was my only source of joy. Progression to my goal. Revenge. I walked to the two resting tree trunks, cut in a perfectly straight line, and heaved one of each under my arms, before methodically dragging them back towards the town. I met my family here in my previous life. A man in the woods, defending the woman who would become his wife from a monster attack; John Mercy. Through pure luck, our party stumbled upon them while lost in this forest. They housed us; fed us. Purely out of the goodness of their hearts. The uncut branches of the trees scraped against the ground behind me, finding the trough that I had dug into the ground from dragging trees through this path hundreds of times. Only a few more and we would complete the wall around the city, protecting it from any further monster attacks.
I stared forward towards the city, through the dense foliage. I recognized a scent, so familiar, yet worlds away, making me stop in my tracks. Flashbacks flitted through my mind. Images of demonic raids on human cities, pyres of flesh and wood reaching up towards the sky. I dropped the logs and began to sprint to the village, still some distance away, only stopping when I saw the pillars of smoke rising into the sky. Without hesitation, I ran towards the villages half constructed walls, dashing along the outer edge until I came to a break in the wall. Ben¡¯s hollow, lifeless eyes stared back at me from a pile of corpses, left bleeding in the sun.
Chapter 4: Slasher
Sword Saint
The soldier brought the last of the bodies to the pyre, adding her to the pile. The Wife of John Mercy herself, albeit almost unrecognizable under the scars left behind from her questioning. Missing several fingers on the hand that she still had, her face was a criss cross of bloody lines, with only a single intact eye, its blue contrasting with the bloody sclera around it. ¡°Third bloody village this month¡ all because of a birthday. The fuck is wrong with this place.¡± He muttered to himself. Quietly. He wouldn¡¯t want his heresy to be known to the Imperium, especially not the Inquisitor brought with them. He looked up, seeing a single, lone boy looking back at him.
The boys hands were rough, callused as if he labored all his life, something exceedingly strange around here. There was no need for children to seriously labor. His body was muscled, and his face covered in sweat and dirt. For a second, the soldier jumped, thinking that it was a wandering specter, come to haunt him for his misdeeds. He wore a mix of leather and¡ ¡°By God''s boy, is that a direwolf pelt? Where¡¯d you get that?¡± the boy stared vacantly ahead, not even acknowledging the soldier¡¯s presence. The soldier followed his gaze, swallowing hard when he saw the direction the boy was looking. Into the eyes of the woman he dropped onto the pile. I can help him escape. The soldier turned back to the boy. Suddenly, he felt a burning pain erupt at his waist. He saw the boys expressionless face finally look back at his. Hollow, sunken eyes, that showed no emotion. I looked to his hand, a wooden toy, shaped like a sword, dripped with blood. I grabbed at my waist, looking down.
His world spun. Suddenly it was if the earth had been thrown away, as he rose away from it, spinning, before falling back down to earth. Some five feet from him, he saw his body fall to the wet mud.
They were good people, living humble, isolated lives. My knuckles turned white around the wooden sword dangling in my belt. I stared back into Ben¡¯s gaze, frozen, disregarding my surroundings. I recognized several faces I knew from my few years in this life. I watched him drop another body onto the pile. My mother''s eye stared back at me, empty and lifeless. It gleamed. Blood pooled off of her, forming a pile on the ground that filled the air with a sickly metallic scent. For a long moment, I stared into her eyes. I didn¡¯t even recognize that the soldier had approached me, or that he was talking. Reflexively, automatically, I drew the wooden sword. I activated the skill. I watched the soldiers guts pour out of his side. I watched his panic as he tried to hold them in. I activated the skill again. I seperated his head from his shoulders, watching it spin away from the ground. His body collapsed to its knees, and I freed his sword from its sheath. It was meant to be a short sword, but easily was as long as I was tall. Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
I stared at the glint of sunshine, reflecting off of the beautiful, polished metal of the blade. I spun the blade in my hand, feeling the weight. It had been so long since I had even seen a proper sword. It brought back scattered memories, which sucked me in like pits of mud. I lost the feeling of the sun on my face, finding instead the feeling of falling. The scent of ash hung heavy in the air, and the brightness of the sky was replaced with the brightness of a raging inferno. Then I heard it. All around me, distant shouting, cries for help. My head snapped up, eyes locking onto the enemy. Blood dripped from the demons claws, arm extended to his side. I felt my veins bulge in anger, watching it drip to the ground below him. The earth was ripped apart behind me, and the sword in my hand tore through his flesh like paper. Slash.
A fountain of red sprayed in front of me, and the screaming round me intensified. I grabbed the second sword falling through the air, laying into the monstrosity in front of me.
One slash.
Two slashes.
Eight slashes.
Thirty two slashes.
Diced flesh fell to the ground around me, monster flesh torn to scraps. Still, this place wasn¡¯t safe. I scoured the horizon. More. The demons pillaged and burned the capital. More. I had to find them all. I saw two more, but one of their forms was shifting, bending and distorting under the flames red light. Ashes fell from the sky like snow. Finally, as the red light seemed to reach its crescendo around the dancing shape, it solidified. The scene around me shifted. I felt my eyes ache as my blood pressure rose.
The orc shaman raised his staff towards me, but it was too late. I fell upon him in a flash, my first swing blocked by his staff. Gnarled wood stopped my blade short, but my second sword stabbed into its neck. The disgusting mage grabbed at his neck with gnarled, green hands. I spun, beheading it. Without hesitating, my swords ripped into the orc soldier at its side, both piercing the soldier before cutting outwards, ripping him to pieces. More.
I staggered, panting as I lifted the blades again. More. There must be more. My eyes searched the Orc stronghold wildly as I dashed between the bone houses. Disgusting. Disgusting Orcs. I looked at the torch burning in a lantern outside of one of the homes. Slash. The torch fell, setting one of the huts ablaze. It took quickly, the leather blaze over the bone. The village was soon awash in flames, as I continued my search. One at a time, I hunted the remaining Orcs through the blazing village.
Chapter 5: Judgement
¡°You stand accused of betrayal of the inquisition. What do you say in your defense?¡± The room was filled with a dour, oppressive silence. It hung in the air like sickness, a tenseness that pressed against the human mind. A man in ragged clothing, beard hanging to the floor kneeled before three regally dressed men. The room was lightly decorated, fitting of the temporary logistic centers set up by the Empires advance forces. One of the three old men stroked his beard, staring down at the kneeling figure.
¡°I¡¯m not lying! My statement was the truth!¡± The empire scribe cried out desperately. Still, he didn¡¯t dare raise his eyes to meet a member of the inquisition.
¡°Enough. I¡¯ve read your statement. You¡¯re telling me that a boy slaughtered an imperial platoon?¡±
¡°That was no boy. It was a monster. It¡ it was smiling as it ripped apart our men. Not just once, or twice. It didn¡¯t stop when they were dead, or when it was covered in blood. It cut them into pieces.¡± The scribes breath fell ragged, as he collapsed from his hands, grabbing at his hair. ¡°It didn¡¯t stop at our soldiers. It killed everything that moved. There was nothing left in that city. Nothing left....¡±Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.
The elderly inquisitor leaned forward. ¡°And then you return, years later, the only living member? The one without any military training?¡±
¡°I hid. I watched them all die. I had been travelling with them for years, city to city. I watched them torn apart in front of me, locked in a closet, as the village burned around me.¡± he shuddered.
¡°And what did he wield?¡±
¡°What?¡± The grovelling man finally looked up.
¡°What did he wield?¡± The old man spoke, his voice tinged with impatience.
¡°I¡ I¡¯m not sure. I don¡¯t remember. It was like he tore them apart. He was too fast¡ like a beast.¡±
¡°I¡¯ve heard enough. Execute him.¡± The man looked up, beginning to shout. His ragged, unwashed beard clung to his skin, even as his head rolled from his body.