by Michael Sisa
Raymond screamed.
His entire world turned white.
He lost consciousness.
***
Raymond woke up from the sounds of boots clanking. Upon opening his eyes, he found himself inside a make-do infirmary. Hundreds of soldiers were laying down the bed like him. All were wearing severely battered bodies. It was a miracle in itself that they survived despite such injuries. The memories from the fight streamed inside his mind, and he screamed the moment he remembered. The priests inside the infirmary stared at him in shock, their eyes carrying a hint of understanding and of pity. A few moments passed, and the priests again started moving about. They continued to heal the soldiers’ injuries one after another, despite their mana being unable to accommodate such a massive number. No one knew when it happened, but Raymond suddenly vanished from his bed.
***
Inside the cathedral, Raymond knelt down in prayer. His hands were tightly clasped against each other, his eyes brimming with tears. She died. He saw it. But why? Did he not pray to his God? Did he not train every day to protect her? To make sure that no harm comes to her?
“Damn it… damn… it,” mumbled Raymond.
He looked at the figure of God Aquina with resentful eyes. His body quivered with violent hatred. What use was religion? What use was a God? All that mattered to him was her, and now, she was gone. He failed to protect her. He failed to protect the one that mattered the most.
“Damn it!” he roared. His voice echoed, almost shaking the grand chandelier that hung from above.
He stared at the statue of God Aquina then spat, “Damn you—fucking God! I prayed, didn’t I? I worshipped you, gave you my faith and devotion. Why?! Why?! Why?!!”
Raymond stood up and ruffled his disheveled hair. Blood continued to drip down his bandaged wounds, his cheeks swollen from the fight before. He tottered back, legs limp and barely movable. He had enough. If religion was no salvation, then he would rather die without clinging to any of those damnable faiths. He would rather die while exchanging his soul to death itself.
He mumbled, “God of Death, Thanatos. They say you are dead… that mere mortals had slain you. But if you are really there… if you exist… if you really exist… please… bestow judgment upon my enemies… please. You can take my soul afterwards.”
His lips quivered. Could the God even hear him? His remark was out of desperation, but he meant everything he said regardless.
Tears were still dripping down his cheeks when a voice called out to him. It was the voice of a child. Upon turning around, right at the entrance of the cathedral, a child with ash white hair and crimson eyes greeted his sight. He wore a red cloak around his body, but it failed to hide the tattered tunic inside. It was filled with blotches of blood but, peculiarly, not a single scratch was seen on his ivory skin. There was something eerie from the child, but Raymond was unable to pin it down.
“Humans are nothing but insects—but a human that worships my God gains the status of a sentient animal,” said the child. Raymond felt shivers run down his spine when they locked eyes with each other. "Very well, in accordance to your prayer, your desire shall be granted.”
Raymond did not know the reason why, but he knelt down in worship.
Chapter 6: Answered Prayer
The silence inside the small cathedral was absolute as Raymond knelt down in prayer. He felt hollow and empty, and there was an indescribable helplessness embracing his entire body. He wanted to weep and wail. He wanted to scream, but no voice came out. He remained kneeling, all the while waiting for the words that he somehow knew would change his life.
“My interest has been piqued by this is so called God Aquina,” said the child. Raymond had never heard such cold voice before. It was icy, almost monotonous.
He heard the sounds of footsteps. The child said, “Laughable. This petite creature is the God of humans? If my memory serves me correct, this is merely a Queen Fairy.”
Still kneeling, Raymond turned his head to the left. He saw that the child was touching the feet of the statue. There was an arrogant smirk plastered on his face, and he was sure that a small sigh came out his mouth.
But why was he still kneeling? Raymond did not know the reason why, but he continued to do so regardless. There was something peculiar and eerie about the child, and Raymond was unable to point it out.
His current actions were probably the result of his innumerable battles as a soldier, or was it the basic intuition of all that lives? Raymond was not sure. He felt that a single wrong move here would dictate his fate. And so, Raymond patiently waited.
“Kukuku! The so called God Aquina of the mortals is nothing but a Queen Fairy!” said the child. His voice echoed inside the silent cathedral. He placed a finger on the statue of the Water God, slowly tracing a line downward. “Fairentel… I wonder what she would say if she heard about this? Who would have thought that her kind is being worshipped as Gods? Disgusting.”
There was a soft, wheezing sound. The statue of the Water God formed cracks then turned to dust. Raymond’s eyes were wide in surprise as he watched the child approach his direction.
“This trip is a waste of my time. Mortal—,” said the child. Raymond’s body violently trembled when the distance between them turned a mere breath away. His instinct was screaming at him that he should get away, that he should not associate himself with such malevolent entity. “You’ve prayed to my God before. What is it that you desire?”
If someone were to see him now, Raymond was sure that they would raise their brows as they questioned his actions. Why would a full grown soldier kneel down before a child? He was asking the same question all this time, and he wanted to stand and leave the cathedral, but his soul was screaming otherwise. He somehow felt that if he left, he would forever regret it.
With a hint of hesitation, Raymond answered, “Lady Sophia. My only desire is her.”
The child stood there for a full second, his eyes dancing as he gazed at the helpless soldier before him. Slowly, the child reached out a hand to Raymond. He placed a finger on the man’s forehead. The cuts and bruises on Raymond’s body dissipated like fog.
“Your desire, is that all?” said the child.
Suddenly, a violent storm hit Raymond. He found himself in the middle of an abyss, with flashes of memories streaming by. Beside him was the mysterious child, and they both stood there in total silence as innumerable memories gushed out like a violent geyser.
Eventually, the flashes of memories stopped. The child nodded in self-affirmation. “What a mundane dream. As expected of an insect. But a prayer to my God cannot be merely ignored. Very well, in accordance to your prayer—it shall be granted.”
***
The encounter half an hour ago was still fresh in his memory. It was dreamlike and fleeting, but his rejuvenated body that had not the slightest scratch on it was testament to that encounter. Who was that child? He healed his wounds like a simple whim, obviously not exerting an ounce of effort at all. Furthermore, his entire body was filled with vigor. Strength overflowed within him, almost erupting. He had the feeling that he could crush mountains in a single blow.
He silently walked through the cracked roads of the fort. The place was almost desolate, and the faces of the few people present were pallid and anxious. It seemed that the monsters had retreated after the Knights of Tesma came, but reports indicated that the mob were preparing for a second onslaught.
“Raymond!”
He halted in his tracks when he felt a firm grip upon his shoulders. Upon turning to his left, he saw a familiar face. He did not know the man’s name, but he was sure that he was part of the division he was in.
“Raymond! I was tasked to find you! You’ve suddenly vanished… the healers were frantic. You’re one of the most severely injured ones—,” said the man. He stared at Raymond and was stunned when he realized that he was devoid of injuries, let alone any scratch.
The soldier was rendered speechless, and Raymond heaved a si
gh in response. “What is it? As you can see, I am fine. There’s no need for the healers to waste their magic on me.”
As he was about to turn around, the soldier spouted words that Raymond would soon never forget for the rest of his life.
“More… More importantly! Y-You won’t believe it! Lady Sophia… Lady Sophia is alive!”
Time stood still as Raymond tried to digest those words. Alive? He saw her corpse himself. He was there when she died. Still, a faint glimmer of hope rekindled itself within him. His entire body shook as he said, “Is… Is that true? Where? Where is she?!”
“At the Western Brigade near the Gra—”
Raymond did not wait for the soldier to finish. He ran with all his might, faster than the wind. His heart loudly pounded as various thoughts filled his mind. She was alive? Was it true?
Very well, in accordance to your prayer—it shall be granted.
The words spoken by the child back then resounded in his mind. For some reason, he believed that if it was that child, then anything was possible. He grasped that sliver of hope as he ran towards his destination.
After passing through numerous intersections and roads, he finally arrived before a four-story building. He charged through the large oaken door and frantically surveyed the interior. Those that were inside the room stared at his direction, their faces filled with surprise.
“Lady Sophia!” shouted Raymond. He was desperate, and he no longer cared for appearances. The soldier from before had said that she was alive. She should be alive.
After an absolute silence, a soft and mellifluous voice rang out. Raymond wept and wailed when he saw the figure of the woman he loved the most. He was an unknown soldier, but his devotion, love and loyalty for her were unparalleled.
“Soldier, what is it?” said Lady Sophia. She wore a white dress, her body intact and without injuries. The decapitated corpse a few hours ago seemed a lie as Raymond stared at her figure. Was this a dream? If it was, he did not want to wake up.
“Haha… Hahaha! Hahaha! She’s alive… She’s alive,” said Raymond. Everyone was stunned speechless when the soldier suddenly laughed like a maniac. An eerie silence followed. Raymond wiped the tears that dripped down his cheeks. He felt the numerous old scars that adorned his face, and he grimaced for a split second. He was ugly, he knew.
Lady Sophia gently smiled as she watched the soldier. She did not know his name, but she was sure of his devotion. Despite the wordless gestures of the healers, stopping her from getting up, Lady Sophia stood up and went towards the wailing man.
She hugged him then said, “It’s fine. I’m fine. Thank you for worrying.”
Raymond’s face distorted from utter bliss as he wordlessly cried his soul out. He could feel her warmth as she hugged his quivering body. It slowly melted his frozen mind and soul. If it was a dream, he did not want to wake up. She was alive. Like the child from before had promised, she was alive.
A cold voice broke the silence. “Soldier. Lady Sophia needs to rest. You know that, no?”
Raymond nodded after the remark of one of the healers. He broke from the firm embrace of Lady Sophia. “Sorry for making a commotion.”
Raymond stood up then saluted, “Commander Sophia! This foot soldier, Raymond Falxen, shall devote his life for the sake of the fortress! For the sake of Rube!”
His movements were rigid, almost awkward, but the fierceness within his eyes showed his unyielding devotion. Lady Sophia chuckled then smiled, making her left dimple sink in response.
She tilted her head to the side. With a playful voice, she said, “So, your name is Raymond Falxen? I shall remember your name, soldier~”
Chapter 7: A Defensive Strategy
After repelling the first wave of invading monsters, the Knights of Tesma immediately conducted a meeting with the commanding officers of Rube Fortress. The tension within the room was suffocating as everyone intently stared at the large map that was unfolded on the ground.
“Are you telling us that these monsters are actually capable of coordinated assaults?” said Moonsol, the second highest ranking official of Rube Fortress. The flames of the torches on the wall flickered for an instance, and the shadows of everyone in the room danced with it.
“Definitely,” said Lancelot. Using a stick, he tapped at an area in the map. It was a place surrounded by numerous hills. Adjacent to it was a small lake. “Someone is leading them. It wouldn’t make sense otherwise. According to one of my magicians, this is the area with the most number of goblins and ogres. Basically, what we’ve encountered a while ago is just the tip of the iceberg. A larger army will surely hit us sooner or later.”
Moonsol stared at Lancelot. He shook his head and mockingly laughed, “Are you serious?! You guys have just gotten here, and you surely have no idea of how much monsters we’ve repelled before those abominable creatures finally retreated! And now, you’re telling me—telling us—that a larger army will be invading us soon? Hah!”
Lancelot glanced at Faith, and the priest nodded at him. She was the one that verified the total number of monsters near Gralvan Plains. She said, “Lord Moonsol, I know that it is hard to believe, but this is reality. This is just a hunch, but I believe that the Goblin King has awakened from its hibernation.”
“Preposterous! The Goblin King is nothing but a myth!” snarled Moonsol. His voice echoed inside the room. Everyone present was taken aback by his sudden outburst of emotion. The flames again flickered, casting a shadow over his sunken face. “This is what I’ve kept telling Sophia. Requesting help from the Kingdom of Tesma is a mistake! From the start, we should have asked Renaga for reinforcements!”
“Monsool, watch your mouth,” said an elderly woman. Before now, she had been wordlessly standing beside him. She contemptuously added, “You do realize that the man before you is the infamous Commander of the first division of the Knights of Tesma, no? Please do not disgrace us with your incessant remarks. First of all, the Kingdom of Tesma is under no obligation to help us. We should be grateful that they’ve answered our plea for help, going so far as to send the Commander to this far land.”
The elderly woman turned to Lancelot. She closed her eyes then bowed. “Please do forgive the actions of my grandson. He is young, and thus, he sometimes does not know what he is saying.”
Moonsol was about to retort when he was stopped by the glare coming from the elderly woman. With an icy, monotonous voice, she said, “I am still talking. Shut up and stay still, stupid grandson of mine.”
There was a soft giggle after that, and Moonsol frowned upon seeing the priest broadly grinning at him. Lancelot glanced at the two then wordlessly gestured for Faith to stop. He said to the elderly woman, “It’s fine. We have no time for such things right now. Also, your grandson has a point. The Kingdom of Renaga is stronger than Tesma. Those beastmen would surely be a great help.”
“No, Commander. I can’t find myself working together with those savages. I’ve seen them eat our kind before. I’m not going to risk my people. The Kingdom of Tesma is definitely the best choice,” she said in a firm tone.
“So, what’s the plan—oh, Commander?” said Moonsol. His voice had a hint of mockery in it.
Lancelot stared at the map for a few moments. He said to Moonsol, “The walls of Rube are made out of a sturdy crystal, no?”
“Krylhalcom, to be precise,” said Moonsol. He held great pride of their walls’ sturdiness. In the entire continent, one could find only a handful of other fortresses as sturdy as Rube. “It’s basically made out of the same materials used in our blades.”
“What… how the hell did they build such a massive wall using Krylhalcom?” said Faith in disbelief. She had seen the walls before, and just a single glance would enable one to see that it was sturdy.
Moonsol boastfully grinned. “Around two hundred years ago, this place is a Krylhalcom mine. Our great ancestors basically dug out everything and forged out an absurdly large wall that covered an entire city. A feat that wouldn’t be rep
eated in this lifetime.”
“If it’s krylhalcom, then even ogres wouldn’t be able to penetrate the walls. Those brutes are strong, but they lack the intelligence to find a way of climbing the walls. The problem now are the goblins. Small, pesky, but smart,” said Lancelot.
“Commander, forgive my insolence… but will another division come to Rube?” said the elderly woman. “The first division is strong, but I cannot somehow imagine them driving away a hundred thousand monsters on their own.” The last part was said in almost a whisper. Everyone in the room knew what those words implied: after the first wave of battle, almost half of the soldiers in Rube were either killed or were severely injured. The remaining ones were under severe fatigue after fighting for almost half a day nonstop. Right now, only the Knights of Tesma were in good enough condition to pose a threat to the invading monsters. Everyone else would just be fodder.
Lancelot sighed. “I’m sorry, but the Kingdom cannot spare more than that.”
“Hah! What a half-assed reinforcement! If the Kingdom of Tesma is really intent on helping us, then they should have sent all three divisions of their infamous knights!” said Moonsol.
The elderly woman glared at him. “Send all three divisions here and risk having their lands invaded by another nation? How stupid are you?!”
“But their unit alone is not enough!” shouted Moonsol. His voice reverberated inside the room, and the flames of the torch flickered in resonance. The group fell silent. Everyone knew that what all he said were not lies. Indeed, just the first division of the knights alone was insufficient.
