Keyaruga laid on his back, staring at the inlayed ceiling. He couldn’t sleep, as no matter how many times the man closed his eyes, they simply refused to stay that way. The lad felt nothing, no strain in his chest, no harmful thoughts terrorized him – what had taken a hold of him was the absolute hollowness.
“Ugh…” But even so, his world didn’t limit itself to internal anxieties, or their apparent absence. Freia was clinging onto the hero in her sleep. Her naked and sweaty body shivered in distress, as she moaned. Apparently, the sorceress was trapped in a nightmare, presumably relieving her own doings.
Keyaruga was yet to reveal to her what he took from Adrian’s residence, even if he took some time to wash the set of lingerie. He was reflecting on his decision, but whatever arguments the healer came up with just didn’t hold up to further scrutiny. To ask for support of Eve Reese in her ascension to the Obsidian Throne meant revealing her name and goals to possible enemies, demanding any substantial amount of money would only further antagonize the locals (and they already were pretty distrustful toward the healer), and even pleading to Buranikka’s neutrality would fail, seeing how many factions and personalities with their independent goals were based in that miraculous city. Only one thing was of the worth – Chris Malcolm’s arcane dagger, but a brief look with the jade eye showed that it was actually soulbonded to its owner.
No matter, I’ll find another way of freeing the demi-humans.
With that in mind, the hero once again attempted to shut his eyes, to fall asleep, he tried relaxing, to breathe slowly… And yet he still failed.
“M-m…” Unlike Freia, Setsuna’s slumber was as peaceful as it could get. She never trembled, never wavered. There was an ultimate purpose in most, if not all of her doings. So much so that Keyaruga envied the she-wolf, especially with how eagerly she took on any challenge, hardship, or even defeat.
“…” Now, though, she rose onto her furry feet. The gray-haired girl needed two things: to drink, and to pee. A simple set of actions no man or woman is beyond, really. So the Hero of Healing did nothing to reveal his insomnia. He just lied there, silently pondering on what had caused his current predicament, how to fair in the upcoming day, and what to do afterwards.
Should I kill Hawkeye? He won’t budge, that’s for sure. For all I know, he’s a fanatic of that old god. Not like I care, but that makes him a zealous fellow. He would serve Norn to the very end, no matter the consequences. To get her out of that mess, I’ll have to incapacitate him. Doesn’t sound too hard… Of course it doesn’t, it’s easier said than done, after all.
No matter, I’m immortal now, surely I can handle it. Because… nobody else can…
“…nobody but me.”
“Keyaruga?” For better or worse, his whisper was easily overheard by Setsuna. Her bestial ears were much more sensitive than that of a human, so she easily spotted the noise.
“You’re not sleeping.” She noticed, sitting right beside the man. At that point, he didn’t even bother keeping his red eyes shut. There wasn’t even need for lying on the bed other than to be a hug toy for a tormented princess, which was a reason enough to stay as he was. “Is that because of Norn?” The huntress asked calmly, almost whispering.
“Maybe… I know what I must do, Setsuna, so there’s no place for worries.” The man declared, as if trying to justify his inner hollowness. That wasn’t working, for it was the lad himself who denied any inner fears or self doubt that might’ve diluted his resolve, either consciously, unconsciously, or outright through body modifications.
“No. You worry.” The girl stated, sniffing the man from a short distance. She felt his distress, mixed with Freia’s. “Just like her.” The huntress elaborated, pointing at the Hero of Magic.
“Do I? I thought left all of that behind, thought I was higher than losing my way with petty grudges on my way to the top.” Keyaruga uttered, feeling as if he was losing control over his speech. “I will have my prize, my revenge, my love, my power, my freedom, my… My… I need… I must do so many things, and I already feel like I’m failing. I let Norn become a… an enemy of mine. I still need to get revenge on Bullet, on Jioral, but I want everything to be right… I wanted her to... Fuck, I’ve screwed up.” And just like that, only having one listener, the one who wouldn’t shun you, mock, or chastise you, helped the man. He needed someone to hear out his confession, just like his desired foe a few hours ago.
“You do what you need. Setsuna will be there with you.” The gray-haired girl was a lady of few words. Instead of a long speech, a single act of intimacy, a soft palm laid above her master’s hand was more than enough for him to feel slightly better.
“You know about me and Flare, don’t you?” The man asked, although somewhat feebly.
“Uh-huh.” The huntress nodded slightly. In the end, the lad couldn’t have missed the change in the relationship between the two. The she-wolf became wary of the princess, harsher in her various trainings, pushier in their threesomes. And yet, for some enigmatic reason, the first of the hero’s companions reinforced their bond. “She loves you now, and tries to make it up for you. It’s enough. Setsuna accepts her. And you should too.”
“Accept her? Or… myself?” Keyaruga mused aloud. After all, he already let his former sworn enemy into his heart, let himself rest in her embrace just like she did at the moment.
“Yes.” The she-wolf smiled slightly. Was it a joke? A deliberately ambiguous answer? No matter, as her response was simultaneously the most childish and adult statement there could be.
“Guess I’ll have to find out myself. Come on, let’s sleep.” The healer uttered, inviting Setsuna to get back under their shared blanket. She accepted.
And so, warmed by the ice wolf, the hero finally fell asleep. He could enjoy some peace and quiet, at least for now.
…
The dawn was gray, and the day was gloomy. A fitting backdrop for the tragedy that was about to occur. Just like Keyaruga warned, Norn’s spearmen spread out from their base; they dragged everyone they came across to the main square, provided they didn’t struggle too much. Kids and adults, men and women, humans and ma-zok. If they did, however, the soldiers had absolutely no qualms against murdering whoever stood in their way.
“It begins.” Freia… Flare said, between seemingly endless chanting within the circle of blood. His blood.
I’m sorry, but I have no words for you. And that’s why I trust you with this. Setsuna, Eve, keep her safe, until I return.
Those were his last words before he left. The man had left his girls in the safest place in the whole city – Tidir’s inn.
From time to time, the princess glanced at the mirror. Her rounded face, emerald eyes, even the blue hollow pearls to gather her pink hair – it was all there… and it felt like a despicable clay mask, nailed on Freia’s face.
“Focus.” Setsuna said, offering an endearing pat to the sorceress’ shoulder.
“Thanks, Setty. Keyaruga is counting on us.” The magician replied, filled with determination. At least, that’s how it felt like.
“…” Only Eve had nothing to add. The maiden was overly alienated from the two to completely empathize with their inner struggles. She only wanted one thing – to see as many dead invaders as possible.
…
“Fuck, they’ve cut us off.” Bagran swore, staring at the rows of enemy soldiers, dashing through Buranikka. The battle was already ongoing. The rows of demons engaged the hostile forces, a wolf rider dashed toward the infantry and horse cavalry. He was impaled and raised on their pikes, just like many of his his comrades. The ogre shot bolt after bolt with his heavy crossbow, and yet most of them failed to pierce the full plate armor sets of Jioral’s elites. “BURN THE FUCKERS!!!”
As the commander snarled, locals began throwing flammable pots in their foes. Spearmen screamed, their flesh burned, and no amount of the mythril armor they were wearing save them. The onslaught was stalling, but at the same time the defenders couldn’t grasp at the chance that might have offered. Marksmen emerged on the rooftops, countering Bargan’s crossbowmen and guerrillas with their rapid bows.
The red-skinned ogre and his crew tried to keep up. While the militia fought, died, and killed knights on the ground, heavy marksmen held the top. They were overwhelmed, though. Heavy crossbows easily pierced the bowmen, due to how little they were protected. Problem is, they didn’t just stand around. This wasn’t just any shooting squad; these were high-ranking troops, trained by Hawkeye himself. This flank was soon to be breached…
Unless that is, another piece joins the chessboard. A man with a green cape ran around, suppressing them with magical projectiles of his own. The red-haired caster dashed from roof to roof, sending lightning spears into the shooters.
“Hello, need a hand?” Keyaruga mockingly asked, pulling an arrow out of Bagran’s shoulder. He mended the wound so fast, the ogre couldn’t even react. “Here, a gift.” Then, the healer left a whole bag of his miraculous potions. He even raised the warden’s fallen comrades. One touch of his left arm filled bleeding men with vigor like never before. Provided their souls were still intact. “Alright, gotta go!”
“Heh… Sassy brat!” The hero’s help was highly appreciated, though. Him showering defenders with free remedies and heals highly boosted their morale. The east front now seemed secure, and ma-zok warriors now commenced the counter-offensive.
Well, until another rain of magic arrows halted their onslaught.
Look what we’ve got here.
A trump card embodied, the man, the myth, the legend – Hawkeye joined the battle to counter the strongest piece that fought for Buranikka. Without a word spoken, the ginger-haired assassin lunged sideways. He jumped from one roof to another, sending three, four, six arrows in a matter of an instant. Keyaruga drew his saber, his alloyed blade deflected three, and two failed to pierce Georgius. Only one arrow reached its goal… It’s went right through the lad’s left eye.
“S-s-s-sh-I-T!!!” Keyaruga yelled, pulling out a projectile from within his brain. “Hey…” A green aura covered the man’s body. A second later… “I felt that!” …he stood unharmed.
“Good.” The Champion of Jioral coldly mused. Now that he knew, what kind of power the lad obtained, the archer was growing increasingly agitated to see its limits. “You should have reunited with our princess, when you had a chance.”
“You don’t say.” The healer scoffed, taking an upward defensive stance. Army versus militia, light archers versus heavy crossbowmen, a Champion versus a Hero. The battle for Buranikka had begun.
…
While the city slowly but steadily fell to the blaze of war, its heart was still intact. Surrounded by the impenetrable wall of spears, Norn graciously descended from the stairs that lead from the city hall. The warlady, accompanied by her trusted personal guard, smirked, looking at distant smoke rising from the burning buildings. This was her element, after all. And she had a vital role to play there. The innocent-looking girl walked onto the frontal place, as if it was a playground, and not slaughterhouse. Upon her arrival, she could hear multiple curses in her address. And while her soldiers could only guess the implication by the sheer tone, the girl herself was almost fluent in Tarenago, so she basked in their fiery hatred.
“Tell them to shut up, Matto. I’m getting a headache.” The princess coldly ordered her blonde officer (this time he wore a helmet), who carried a steel staff. It wasn’t the words that hurt her, though. It was the noise, from hundreds of desperate voices gathered in the city center.
“SILENCE!!!” The armorclad yelled, slamming his magic pole into the pavers underneath. And while his snarled shout thundered across the entire square, stunning most of the future victims with the noise, the princess’ ears were safe within a defensive sphere. Her voice, though, was to be heard in all of Buranikka.
“Heed me, my friends! My name is Norn Clatalissa Jioral, the second princess of our glorious kingdom! We’ve come to your city to save it from demonic tyranny! We know, they’ve been holding you like a bunch of rightless cattle, so that they could feed on your blood and sharpen their fangs before conquering our beloved lands!” Norn began her rehearsed speech. Every part of it was meticulously planned and refined, and nothing would stop the warlady from sowing discord among the flock she gathered.
Where’re you, my prince? Come and finish me already.
“Shut the fuck up, you bitch! We don’t need you! Where’ve you been for the last ten years?!” Some human man exclaimed. He was a kindle to the fire, a provoker, meant to embolden the crowd. He succeeded. In less than a few minutes, the people started a riot; they tossed stones and even began tackling the guards. Norn was safe from the boulders, as long as she remained in the sphere. Or as long as Matto was wearing an obsidian pendant underneath his armor, which saved the caster from the excruciating disruptions.
Either way, the girl raised her hand. It was a signal, after which her knights stopped holding back whatsoever. Arrows, swords, spears, and armored knuckles – whatever tools of mayhem the soldiers used, they were brutally effective against the unarmored mob. They stomped, slashed, and pierced the rioting crowd. Their rallying cries were muffled, but yells of panic began echoing across the square.
“How dreadful, how dreadful! Demons brainwashed our Phasian-speaking brethren! Look at those poor subjugated traitors! They’re possessed!” Norn stated while, dramatically covering her face. “But don’t be afraid! We’ll eradicate these hellish filth! JUSTICE WILL PREVAIL!!!” The girl screamed with borderline anguish. She was but a pawn here, her will decided nothing. This entire slaughter held no advantages over softer kinds of occupation. Jioral just needed an example, a warning against all who dared thinking about peace with the Confederation. Should she disobey, her own troops would crucify the girl. “But not all of you are afflicted, right? Then fight! Take your weapons, kill the demons, and atone for your sins in the name of our Lord and Luminary Faran! Help us reclaim Buranikka!”
Jioral’s brutality had been put to a halt. The vanguard retreated, allowing the confused crowd to choose their fate. They… began slaughtering each other. Nobody was safe in that bloodbath. Mothers were stabbed, their husbands clubbed, their children bruised to death. It was so perfect in its viciousness, that Norn was charmed by that icon of savagery. She wanted… to be there. To be torn apart.
…
Things didn’t look bright for Keyaruga. He was at an obvious disadvantage. Not only didn’t his laxative work, but he was unable to catch up to Hawkeye. The archer kept his distance, stalling the hero with an infinite barrage of conjured arrows. His quiver never dried out, while his bow hit like a rock fall.
The healer ran, he deflected two headshots, allowing two more arrows to pierce his chest. He retaliated with a fire arrow, sent a couple of sharp beams he learnt from Eve, but neither reached Organ Trist. Neither could best the other, one was too nimble to get hit, and another was too resilient to be put down by whatever ranged capabilities the Champion had.
This won’t do. We’re in a stalemate right now.
“Hey, Organ, how about we ca-…” Whatever Keyaruga tried to pull off, it ended with an arrow going right through his forehead. “Fu-u-u…” Then, the lad fell from the roof, right into some dirty alleyway.
“It cannot be…” The assassin mused, getting closer to where the man was supposed to have fallen. There, he found… no body, obviously. Only an arrow, with no trace of brain matter on it. “Haa… Haa… What a sly boy…” Ultimately, Organ couldn’t help but to admire his opponent’s tactics. At the same time, though, his amber eyes had begun profoundly bleeding. The battle had taken its toll on him. The man had to take a break, before the next round, less he wanted to get overwhelmed. And also… “You have done well keeping me from the frontline.”
…
Keyaruga found himself sprinting through the streets and alleys of Buranikka. His legs never ached, he never gasped for breath. So far the lad had nothing but good impressions about his divine armament. He was immortal, not even a direct hid through his head could put him down now. And yet, he was worried. The Ma-zok were losing ground, Norn had discovered his trick with the poisoned wine, and he couldn’t get the upper-hand against Hawkeye. That’s not to say that he too was unable to assist his allies.
Let’s see… Organ, you’re looking rough. I can’t believe you’ve managed to hide your exhaustion for so long. Are you running to Norn? Good, she… Wait, what’s she doing? Fuck, not again!
The man saw his former lover slowly walking to the violent crowd. Nobody in the mob even tried stopping her, and the battlemage the girl chased away when Keyaruga entered her carriage was too busy with recording the skirmish onto his crystal ball. Her pace was slow… Maybe, if he hurried, he would still have a chance, maybe…
“A-A-A-A-A-A-A-AH! UA-A-A-A!!!” A loud cry had stopped the man. It belonged to a child, surrounded by a bunch of laughing men. Right in among the pile of bodies, they were… raping a mauled girl. Marauding houses, looting corpses, raping children – such were the ugly realities of war.
“Hey, what’s taking you so long? You know it’s my tu-…” The man was killed; a sharp blade pierced him through the armpit all the way to the skull. It was… a green-haired beastman. He dispatched one, grabbed a flammable pot, and threw it at the group. He throw was limited and cautious, trying not to hurt the child, he took out two of the armored bandits, and… was murdered soon after.
“No-no-no-NO-O!!!” It happened right in front of Keyaruga’s eyes. Karman was nailed to the nearest wall through the throat by a blade. His sacrifice only made them alert of other nearby threats, so all the soldiers grabbed their weapons and faced the healer head-on.
They were five of them remaining, of those survivors, two were armed with spears, two preferred their backup swords, and one, the rapist, failed to arm himself. Keyaruga didn’t dodge away from the spear; its pole went right through him, unable to stop the man’s onslaught. The hero grabbed his saber’s blade and pushed it through his foe’s visor. Another marauder took his chance and drove the blade right into lad’s neck. For many, it was instant death, for this man that was but a mild inconvenience, as the healer grabbed the soldier by the bottom of his helm and began bashing him with his armored fist. Slam, slam, slam, slam! Each punch with Georgius left a large dent, after the forth strike, the bones cracked, the blood began spilling downwards. Keyaruga pulled the sword from his own throat; it healed in an instant, horrifying the soldiers.
They cried something about a demon, devil, evil, or something. Keyaruga heard, but didn’t listen. He grabbed the rapist by his bare cock, tore it off, broke his teeth with the gauntlet’s knuckles, and shoved the bloodied manhood down the screaming man’s throat. Other two, though… “Saltare et aurugine ventis!” They were burned to a crisp, caught in a pillar of magical flames. Finally, with no more threats…
“A-A-A-A-A-A!!! YOL-A-A-A (It hurts)!!!” Only a single remaining survivor, a small girl remained. She was barely seven… Seven! She was torn, profoundly bleeding, clinging onto a woman’s corpse. Her mother… A human… She too was a human…
“Don’t be afraid.” Keyaruga whispered, laying his armored gauntlet onto the back of her head. Then, a green light sparked, rendering her unconscious. Her wounds were healed… At least, physical. But what would happen to her afterwards? Well, at that point, Keyaruga was in too deep of a shock to think about that. He left the child and approached his friend. The lad pulled out the spear out of his throat, put him gently on the ground, and then touched him with his right arm. He needed to know, needed to feel, to…
…
My dream? Yeah, well, I’d like to trade somewhere in a big city. Like Kinacrith. Or, hell, even your Capital. That counts as a dream, right, friend?
…
You’re doing a good job, pal. Your goods already save lives.
…
We’ve been a good team…
…
Nothing, no response, no pain. He… is dead…
“Haa… Haa… Haa…” He was short of breath, Keyaruga’s whole body trembled. He must have been in the deepest pits of hell. He… He… “A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A!!!”
This was not a cry, nor a bellow; this was the very essence of human suffering. Normally, it would be just another corpse on the hero’s path, not something to be overly worried about. But being knee-deep in bodies… They were people, they had their lives, they were alive, until… Those fuckers killed them without any mercy! Fucking animals! Fucking monsters! Fucking!..
“Hey, what’s going on? You! Yeah, you are…” Another soldier approached the man. He saw no threat in some unarmed, yelling kid. Well, until he materialized a gruesome gauntlet on his left hand and popped his head from a meter away. This was supposed to be a trump card for Hawkeye.
Don’t know… Don’t care… Kill you… My saber… Kill… Take saber… Kill you all…
…
…
This was a bloodbath, dozens, if not hundreds of corpses were left in Keyaruga’s wake. For him, it felt like sleepwalking, uninterrupted by any pain or wounds. For Jioral’s soldiers, though, the man in the green cape became death incarnate. He pierced, he cleaved, he slashed, he punched, he kicked, he burned, he pummeled, he ripped helmets from the straps just to shove his fingers into someone’s eyes, he malleted cuirasses, until only gruesome meat remained underneath the chunk of dent metal, he broke bones with his bare hands, he rolled guts onto his saber, he ripped heats to feed on them, he…
He walked toward another crowd of victims. They were not difficult to recognize. The same manufactured armor, same spears. Stepping over the corpses, the man strolled forward. Nothing could stop him, nothing could oppose him, he was invincible, even his magic pool didn’t seem to dry out, as Georgius continuously fed its master by processing wild mana floating around. This was the true immortality… And it turned the man into a walking bearer of death. No matter where he walked, corpses, brutality and misery were there to meet him. Until…
“Hey, look! It’s him… Hey, brother!” The voice belonged to Uslav. One of the first people Keyaruga met in Buranikka.
“You saved us again!” His friend Gort was also there. Two of them were hiding in a house. Its door was broken off its hinges. If not for Keyaruga, drenched head to toe with the blood of his enemies, they would have died. Now, though, they could easily come out of hiding to greet the hero of the day.
“Pal, that’s the second time we owe you our lives. Look, after it’s all over, come to the market, I’ll reward you handsomely.”
And so, they left. Keyaruga, though, finally snapped out of his crimson haze. It was as if he finally woke up from a long and tormenting nightmare. Just to find out he was in the deepest pit of a foul purgatory.
Norn… Norn!
“NO-O-O-O-ORN!!!” The healer yelled, calling onto the princess. He glanced through the walls, it was his last hope. A fleeing desire to see her safe… “Norn… I see you… I’m coming for you.”
…
“Report.” The warlady demanded, staring through the city hall’s balcony. Hawkeye was standing right beside the princess. He already used three of Keyaruga’s remedies he bought from Karman, spilling it right into his eyes. They still hurt.
“Yes, Your Highness. The situation is dire, the demons are breaking through our formations, and we can’t maintain the offensive.” The messenger unwillingly admitted. “Our forces took severe casualties on the west-eastern flank. The Survivors stated it was but one man…”
“It’s Keyaru!” The girl said, waving her head. She had calculated every possible outcome of the battle, every single turn it could take. In case of a perfect scenario, Buranikka would be occupied by the end of the day with casualties around seventeen percent. But in the worst case… “He singlehandedly slaughtered my entire front, allowing demons to reinforce the other defensive lines! Call the retreat. The fight is already lost.”
“Ehm… Yes, yes, Your Highness.” The messenger ran away, and Norn remained in the conference hall, alone with Hawkeye.
“Allow me to express my apologies, Princess Norn.” The archer said, kneeling before the girl.
“Pff, for what? I already knew you wouldn’t win the battle of attrition. You would either kill him in one shot, or fail miserably.” The warlady admonished Organ with apparent defeatism in her voice. “Go on. Retreat. Shoo, you idiot!” The girl exclaimed, pointing toward the exit. “What? I’ll stay here! Go; flee while you still can, imbecile!”
“No, Your Highness. We can still win.” The last Champion of Jioral stated, rising on his feet. “I have not exposed my other weapons yet.”
“Ha-hah, that’s my prince you’re talking about, you damn cutthroat!” Norn chuckled, covering her face with a left palm. “Stupid men, always playing with their damn toys… Whether they have a handle, or grow from their crotches.” The warlady deadpanned, and miraculously, that joke made Organ Trist chuckle a bit. This was supposed to be single moment of mirth in the ocean of despair…
“My friends, can you hear me?” And then, a massive image appeared above Buranikka.
“Ha-ha-hah… There she is… There’s my sister!”
…
“You’re ready, Freia?” Eve asked, pouring yet another vials worth of mana potion down the sorceress’ throat. That was the fourth time the maiden had done that. After all, Setsuna remained on guard, ready to protect her friends should anyone barge inside.
“Yeah… Yes, Evy.” The magician replied, resting her hands upon the floor. This was her first time casting a spell of such magnitude, since she wasn’t allowed to use it in Ranalitta’s colosseum. And she was using divine blood as a catalyst, no less.
“Setsuna can’t smell anyone.” The huntress admitted, staying at the door. Each of them had some goal to uphold. Keyaruga fought on the frontlines, Freia was supposed to work on the grand projection spell aimed to turn the tables in terms of “their” sides’ morale, and Setsuna along with Eve were her protectors.
Their defeat at Hawkeye’s hand played a huge part in their compliance with this arrangement. If not for that, the three would never choose to stay inside while Jioral committed atrocities outside. They may have failed to save a few lives, but in the end…
“My friends, can you hear me? I’m the first princess of the Jioral kingdom, the Hero of Magic, Flare Arlgrande Jioral!” A gentle voice resounded under Buranikka. A goddess in all of her beauty came down to the earth. All the fighting, all the plundering, all the bloodshed had stopped, just to heed the words of that embodiment of light. “Not so long ago, I came to this gorgeous city! The days I’ve spent here were unforgettable! I enjoyed love here, I was presented a lyre here, the kind my mother used to play, I ate wonderful food here! And I can tell you, it was absolutely wonderful here! Humans and ma-zok live here like equals, we’re not enemies, nobody brainwashed anyone, and nobody is possessed here! It was a paradise of tolerance and peace! Why’re you doing all of this? Look at those people you’re hurting! Have they done something bad? Have they wronged you in some way? What makes them your enemies? Ears? Horns? Tails? That doesn’t make us that different! That doesn’t prevent us from eating, drinking, laughing, and loving! Please, I beg you! Stop spilling each other’s blood! It’s not a holy war; it’s just a spiral of everlasting cruelty! Drop your weapons; stop using your blades against innocents! Buranikka is a miracle; we must protect it at all cost! A city, where two nations can live in harmony! Show some empathy and kindness! Stop this battle, look at their faces, and tell me, are they so different from you, your friends, your children? What’s tasty for us, is tasty for them, what is funny to us, makes them laugh as well! Cease all this violence and bloodshed, let’s gather around one big table, sit, and eat a great meal together, so that we all could enjoy ourselves peacefully… Or we can go on like, and drown in darkness. But this is not the world I’d like to live in. So please, I beg you, find mercy for others in your heart!”
And that was it. After those words, Flare’s image had dissolved to nothingness in the skies above, leaving nothing but an eerie melancholy feeling in the air. Her words were strong, powerful, but most importantly – they were absolutely sincere. With her kind-hearted speech, the girl completely ruined Jioral’s morale, demolished their sense of self-righteousness, and even the discord Norn had so brutally sown among the citizens, had been dispelled.
Buranikka had united; it became monolithic in the face of the common threat. Warriors fought with unseen valiancy, common folk helped them with stones, ammunition, they chased spearmen into various traps, squashed by giant dogs, lizards, oxen, buried under the rubble – without their battle willingness to fight, Jioral’s troops were just too easy to handle, they fled, and no amount of money spent on their armors, helped them in such a predicament. Many had surrendered, hoping for the mercy and tolerance Flare was preaching a minute ago. Some found it, some did not. Too many people were forever scarred by their meaningless brutality, after all. The battle for Buranikka was over…
“Hey! Norn, Organ…” ...but the fight over the princess had only just begun. “…fancy seeing you two here.” Keyaruga sneered, putting two of the guards “to sleep” with a single touch.
Keyaruga laid on his back, staring at the inlayed ceiling. He couldn’t sleep, as no matter how many times the man closed his eyes, they simply refused to stay that way. The lad felt nothing, no strain in his chest, no harmful thoughts terrorized him – what had taken a hold of him was the absolute hollowness.
“Ugh…” But even so, his world didn’t limit itself to internal anxieties, or their apparent absence. Freia was clinging onto the hero in her sleep. Her naked and sweaty body shivered in distress, as she moaned. Apparently, the sorceress was trapped in a nightmare, presumably relieving her own doings.
Keyaruga was yet to reveal to her what he took from Adrian’s residence, even if he took some time to wash the set of lingerie. He was reflecting on his decision, but whatever arguments the healer came up with just didn’t hold up to further scrutiny. To ask for support of Eve Reese in her ascension to the Obsidian Throne meant revealing her name and goals to possible enemies, demanding any substantial amount of money would only further antagonize the locals (and they already were pretty distrustful toward the healer), and even pleading to Buranikka’s neutrality would fail, seeing how many factions and personalities with their independent goals were based in that miraculous city. Only one thing was of the worth – Chris Malcolm’s arcane dagger, but a brief look with the jade eye showed that it was actually soulbonded to its owner.
No matter, I’ll find another way of freeing the demi-humans.
With that in mind, the hero once again attempted to shut his eyes, to fall asleep, he tried relaxing, to breathe slowly… And yet he still failed.
“M-m…” Unlike Freia, Setsuna’s slumber was as peaceful as it could get. She never trembled, never wavered. There was an ultimate purpose in most, if not all of her doings. So much so that Keyaruga envied the she-wolf, especially with how eagerly she took on any challenge, hardship, or even defeat.
“…” Now, though, she rose onto her furry feet. The gray-haired girl needed two things: to drink, and to pee. A simple set of actions no man or woman is beyond, really. So the Hero of Healing did nothing to reveal his insomnia. He just lied there, silently pondering on what had caused his current predicament, how to fair in the upcoming day, and what to do afterwards.
Should I kill Hawkeye? He won’t budge, that’s for sure. For all I know, he’s a fanatic of that old god. Not like I care, but that makes him a zealous fellow. He would serve Norn to the very end, no matter the consequences. To get her out of that mess, I’ll have to incapacitate him. Doesn’t sound too hard… Of course it doesn’t, it’s easier said than done, after all.
No matter, I’m immortal now, surely I can handle it. Because… nobody else can…
“…nobody but me.”
“Keyaruga?” For better or worse, his whisper was easily overheard by Setsuna. Her bestial ears were much more sensitive than that of a human, so she easily spotted the noise.
“You’re not sleeping.” She noticed, sitting right beside the man. At that point, he didn’t even bother keeping his red eyes shut. There wasn’t even need for lying on the bed other than to be a hug toy for a tormented princess, which was a reason enough to stay as he was. “Is that because of Norn?” The huntress asked calmly, almost whispering.
“Maybe… I know what I must do, Setsuna, so there’s no place for worries.” The man declared, as if trying to justify his inner hollowness. That wasn’t working, for it was the lad himself who denied any inner fears or self doubt that might’ve diluted his resolve, either consciously, unconsciously, or outright through body modifications.
“No. You worry.” The girl stated, sniffing the man from a short distance. She felt his distress, mixed with Freia’s. “Just like her.” The huntress elaborated, pointing at the Hero of Magic.
“Do I? I thought left all of that behind, thought I was higher than losing my way with petty grudges on my way to the top.” Keyaruga uttered, feeling as if he was losing control over his speech. “I will have my prize, my revenge, my love, my power, my freedom, my… My… I need… I must do so many things, and I already feel like I’m failing. I let Norn become a… an enemy of mine. I still need to get revenge on Bullet, on Jioral, but I want everything to be right… I wanted her to... Fuck, I’ve screwed up.” And just like that, only having one listener, the one who wouldn’t shun you, mock, or chastise you, helped the man. He needed someone to hear out his confession, just like his desired foe a few hours ago.
“You do what you need. Setsuna will be there with you.” The gray-haired girl was a lady of few words. Instead of a long speech, a single act of intimacy, a soft palm laid above her master’s hand was more than enough for him to feel slightly better.
“You know about me and Flare, don’t you?” The man asked, although somewhat feebly.
“Uh-huh.” The huntress nodded slightly. In the end, the lad couldn’t have missed the change in the relationship between the two. The she-wolf became wary of the princess, harsher in her various trainings, pushier in their threesomes. And yet, for some enigmatic reason, the first of the hero’s companions reinforced their bond. “She loves you now, and tries to make it up for you. It’s enough. Setsuna accepts her. And you should too.”
“Accept her? Or… myself?” Keyaruga mused aloud. After all, he already let his former sworn enemy into his heart, let himself rest in her embrace just like she did at the moment.
“Yes.” The she-wolf smiled slightly. Was it a joke? A deliberately ambiguous answer? No matter, as her response was simultaneously the most childish and adult statement there could be.
“Guess I’ll have to find out myself. Come on, let’s sleep.” The healer uttered, inviting Setsuna to get back under their shared blanket. She accepted.
And so, warmed by the ice wolf, the hero finally fell asleep. He could enjoy some peace and quiet, at least for now.
…
The dawn was gray, and the day was gloomy. A fitting backdrop for the tragedy that was about to occur. Just like Keyaruga warned, Norn’s spearmen spread out from their base; they dragged everyone they came across to the main square, provided they didn’t struggle too much. Kids and adults, men and women, humans and ma-zok. If they did, however, the soldiers had absolutely no qualms against murdering whoever stood in their way.
“It begins.” Freia… Flare said, between seemingly endless chanting within the circle of blood. His blood.
I’m sorry, but I have no words for you. And that’s why I trust you with this. Setsuna, Eve, keep her safe, until I return.
Those were his last words before he left. The man had left his girls in the safest place in the whole city – Tidir’s inn.
From time to time, the princess glanced at the mirror. Her rounded face, emerald eyes, even the blue hollow pearls to gather her pink hair – it was all there… and it felt like a despicable clay mask, nailed on Freia’s face.
“Focus.” Setsuna said, offering an endearing pat to the sorceress’ shoulder.
“Thanks, Setty. Keyaruga is counting on us.” The magician replied, filled with determination. At least, that’s how it felt like.
“…” Only Eve had nothing to add. The maiden was overly alienated from the two to completely empathize with their inner struggles. She only wanted one thing – to see as many dead invaders as possible.
…
“Fuck, they’ve cut us off.” Bagran swore, staring at the rows of enemy soldiers, dashing through Buranikka. The battle was already ongoing. The rows of demons engaged the hostile forces, a wolf rider dashed toward the infantry and horse cavalry. He was impaled and raised on their pikes, just like many of his his comrades. The ogre shot bolt after bolt with his heavy crossbow, and yet most of them failed to pierce the full plate armor sets of Jioral’s elites. “BURN THE FUCKERS!!!”
As the commander snarled, locals began throwing flammable pots in their foes. Spearmen screamed, their flesh burned, and no amount of the mythril armor they were wearing save them. The onslaught was stalling, but at the same time the defenders couldn’t grasp at the chance that might have offered. Marksmen emerged on the rooftops, countering Bargan’s crossbowmen and guerrillas with their rapid bows.
The red-skinned ogre and his crew tried to keep up. While the militia fought, died, and killed knights on the ground, heavy marksmen held the top. They were overwhelmed, though. Heavy crossbows easily pierced the bowmen, due to how little they were protected. Problem is, they didn’t just stand around. This wasn’t just any shooting squad; these were high-ranking troops, trained by Hawkeye himself. This flank was soon to be breached…
Unless that is, another piece joins the chessboard. A man with a green cape ran around, suppressing them with magical projectiles of his own. The red-haired caster dashed from roof to roof, sending lightning spears into the shooters.
“Hello, need a hand?” Keyaruga mockingly asked, pulling an arrow out of Bagran’s shoulder. He mended the wound so fast, the ogre couldn’t even react. “Here, a gift.” Then, the healer left a whole bag of his miraculous potions. He even raised the warden’s fallen comrades. One touch of his left arm filled bleeding men with vigor like never before. Provided their souls were still intact. “Alright, gotta go!”
“Heh… Sassy brat!” The hero’s help was highly appreciated, though. Him showering defenders with free remedies and heals highly boosted their morale. The east front now seemed secure, and ma-zok warriors now commenced the counter-offensive.
Well, until another rain of magic arrows halted their onslaught.
Look what we’ve got here.
A trump card embodied, the man, the myth, the legend – Hawkeye joined the battle to counter the strongest piece that fought for Buranikka. Without a word spoken, the ginger-haired assassin lunged sideways. He jumped from one roof to another, sending three, four, six arrows in a matter of an instant. Keyaruga drew his saber, his alloyed blade deflected three, and two failed to pierce Georgius. Only one arrow reached its goal… It’s went right through the lad’s left eye.
“S-s-s-sh-I-T!!!” Keyaruga yelled, pulling out a projectile from within his brain. “Hey…” A green aura covered the man’s body. A second later… “I felt that!” …he stood unharmed.
“Good.” The Champion of Jioral coldly mused. Now that he knew, what kind of power the lad obtained, the archer was growing increasingly agitated to see its limits. “You should have reunited with our princess, when you had a chance.”
“You don’t say.” The healer scoffed, taking an upward defensive stance. Army versus militia, light archers versus heavy crossbowmen, a Champion versus a Hero. The battle for Buranikka had begun.
…
While the city slowly but steadily fell to the blaze of war, its heart was still intact. Surrounded by the impenetrable wall of spears, Norn graciously descended from the stairs that lead from the city hall. The warlady, accompanied by her trusted personal guard, smirked, looking at distant smoke rising from the burning buildings. This was her element, after all. And she had a vital role to play there. The innocent-looking girl walked onto the frontal place, as if it was a playground, and not slaughterhouse. Upon her arrival, she could hear multiple curses in her address. And while her soldiers could only guess the implication by the sheer tone, the girl herself was almost fluent in Tarenago, so she basked in their fiery hatred.
“Tell them to shut up, Matto. I’m getting a headache.” The princess coldly ordered her blonde officer (this time he wore a helmet), who carried a steel staff. It wasn’t the words that hurt her, though. It was the noise, from hundreds of desperate voices gathered in the city center.
“SILENCE!!!” The armorclad yelled, slamming his magic pole into the pavers underneath. And while his snarled shout thundered across the entire square, stunning most of the future victims with the noise, the princess’ ears were safe within a defensive sphere. Her voice, though, was to be heard in all of Buranikka.
“Heed me, my friends! My name is Norn Clatalissa Jioral, the second princess of our glorious kingdom! We’ve come to your city to save it from demonic tyranny! We know, they’ve been holding you like a bunch of rightless cattle, so that they could feed on your blood and sharpen their fangs before conquering our beloved lands!” Norn began her rehearsed speech. Every part of it was meticulously planned and refined, and nothing would stop the warlady from sowing discord among the flock she gathered.
Where’re you, my prince? Come and finish me already.
“Shut the fuck up, you bitch! We don’t need you! Where’ve you been for the last ten years?!” Some human man exclaimed. He was a kindle to the fire, a provoker, meant to embolden the crowd. He succeeded. In less than a few minutes, the people started a riot; they tossed stones and even began tackling the guards. Norn was safe from the boulders, as long as she remained in the sphere. Or as long as Matto was wearing an obsidian pendant underneath his armor, which saved the caster from the excruciating disruptions.
Either way, the girl raised her hand. It was a signal, after which her knights stopped holding back whatsoever. Arrows, swords, spears, and armored knuckles – whatever tools of mayhem the soldiers used, they were brutally effective against the unarmored mob. They stomped, slashed, and pierced the rioting crowd. Their rallying cries were muffled, but yells of panic began echoing across the square.
“How dreadful, how dreadful! Demons brainwashed our Phasian-speaking brethren! Look at those poor subjugated traitors! They’re possessed!” Norn stated while, dramatically covering her face. “But don’t be afraid! We’ll eradicate these hellish filth! JUSTICE WILL PREVAIL!!!” The girl screamed with borderline anguish. She was but a pawn here, her will decided nothing. This entire slaughter held no advantages over softer kinds of occupation. Jioral just needed an example, a warning against all who dared thinking about peace with the Confederation. Should she disobey, her own troops would crucify the girl. “But not all of you are afflicted, right? Then fight! Take your weapons, kill the demons, and atone for your sins in the name of our Lord and Luminary Faran! Help us reclaim Buranikka!”
Jioral’s brutality had been put to a halt. The vanguard retreated, allowing the confused crowd to choose their fate. They… began slaughtering each other. Nobody was safe in that bloodbath. Mothers were stabbed, their husbands clubbed, their children bruised to death. It was so perfect in its viciousness, that Norn was charmed by that icon of savagery. She wanted… to be there. To be torn apart.
…
Things didn’t look bright for Keyaruga. He was at an obvious disadvantage. Not only didn’t his laxative work, but he was unable to catch up to Hawkeye. The archer kept his distance, stalling the hero with an infinite barrage of conjured arrows. His quiver never dried out, while his bow hit like a rock fall.
The healer ran, he deflected two headshots, allowing two more arrows to pierce his chest. He retaliated with a fire arrow, sent a couple of sharp beams he learnt from Eve, but neither reached Organ Trist. Neither could best the other, one was too nimble to get hit, and another was too resilient to be put down by whatever ranged capabilities the Champion had.
This won’t do. We’re in a stalemate right now.
“Hey, Organ, how about we ca-…” Whatever Keyaruga tried to pull off, it ended with an arrow going right through his forehead. “Fu-u-u…” Then, the lad fell from the roof, right into some dirty alleyway.
“It cannot be…” The assassin mused, getting closer to where the man was supposed to have fallen. There, he found… no body, obviously. Only an arrow, with no trace of brain matter on it. “Haa… Haa… What a sly boy…” Ultimately, Organ couldn’t help but to admire his opponent’s tactics. At the same time, though, his amber eyes had begun profoundly bleeding. The battle had taken its toll on him. The man had to take a break, before the next round, less he wanted to get overwhelmed. And also… “You have done well keeping me from the frontline.”
…
Keyaruga found himself sprinting through the streets and alleys of Buranikka. His legs never ached, he never gasped for breath. So far the lad had nothing but good impressions about his divine armament. He was immortal, not even a direct hid through his head could put him down now. And yet, he was worried. The Ma-zok were losing ground, Norn had discovered his trick with the poisoned wine, and he couldn’t get the upper-hand against Hawkeye. That’s not to say that he too was unable to assist his allies.
Let’s see… Organ, you’re looking rough. I can’t believe you’ve managed to hide your exhaustion for so long. Are you running to Norn? Good, she… Wait, what’s she doing? Fuck, not again!
The man saw his former lover slowly walking to the violent crowd. Nobody in the mob even tried stopping her, and the battlemage the girl chased away when Keyaruga entered her carriage was too busy with recording the skirmish onto his crystal ball. Her pace was slow… Maybe, if he hurried, he would still have a chance, maybe…
“A-A-A-A-A-A-A-AH! UA-A-A-A!!!” A loud cry had stopped the man. It belonged to a child, surrounded by a bunch of laughing men. Right in among the pile of bodies, they were… raping a mauled girl. Marauding houses, looting corpses, raping children – such were the ugly realities of war.
“Hey, what’s taking you so long? You know it’s my tu-…” The man was killed; a sharp blade pierced him through the armpit all the way to the skull. It was… a green-haired beastman. He dispatched one, grabbed a flammable pot, and threw it at the group. He throw was limited and cautious, trying not to hurt the child, he took out two of the armored bandits, and… was murdered soon after.
“No-no-no-NO-O!!!” It happened right in front of Keyaruga’s eyes. Karman was nailed to the nearest wall through the throat by a blade. His sacrifice only made them alert of other nearby threats, so all the soldiers grabbed their weapons and faced the healer head-on.
They were five of them remaining, of those survivors, two were armed with spears, two preferred their backup swords, and one, the rapist, failed to arm himself. Keyaruga didn’t dodge away from the spear; its pole went right through him, unable to stop the man’s onslaught. The hero grabbed his saber’s blade and pushed it through his foe’s visor. Another marauder took his chance and drove the blade right into lad’s neck. For many, it was instant death, for this man that was but a mild inconvenience, as the healer grabbed the soldier by the bottom of his helm and began bashing him with his armored fist. Slam, slam, slam, slam! Each punch with Georgius left a large dent, after the forth strike, the bones cracked, the blood began spilling downwards. Keyaruga pulled the sword from his own throat; it healed in an instant, horrifying the soldiers.
They cried something about a demon, devil, evil, or something. Keyaruga heard, but didn’t listen. He grabbed the rapist by his bare cock, tore it off, broke his teeth with the gauntlet’s knuckles, and shoved the bloodied manhood down the screaming man’s throat. Other two, though… “Saltare et aurugine ventis!” They were burned to a crisp, caught in a pillar of magical flames. Finally, with no more threats…
“A-A-A-A-A-A!!! YOL-A-A-A (It hurts)!!!” Only a single remaining survivor, a small girl remained. She was barely seven… Seven! She was torn, profoundly bleeding, clinging onto a woman’s corpse. Her mother… A human… She too was a human…
“Don’t be afraid.” Keyaruga whispered, laying his armored gauntlet onto the back of her head. Then, a green light sparked, rendering her unconscious. Her wounds were healed… At least, physical. But what would happen to her afterwards? Well, at that point, Keyaruga was in too deep of a shock to think about that. He left the child and approached his friend. The lad pulled out the spear out of his throat, put him gently on the ground, and then touched him with his right arm. He needed to know, needed to feel, to…
…
My dream? Yeah, well, I’d like to trade somewhere in a big city. Like Kinacrith. Or, hell, even your Capital. That counts as a dream, right, friend?
…
You’re doing a good job, pal. Your goods already save lives.
…
We’ve been a good team…
…
Nothing, no response, no pain. He… is dead…
“Haa… Haa… Haa…” He was short of breath, Keyaruga’s whole body trembled. He must have been in the deepest pits of hell. He… He… “A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A!!!”
This was not a cry, nor a bellow; this was the very essence of human suffering. Normally, it would be just another corpse on the hero’s path, not something to be overly worried about. But being knee-deep in bodies… They were people, they had their lives, they were alive, until… Those fuckers killed them without any mercy! Fucking animals! Fucking monsters! Fucking!..
“Hey, what’s going on? You! Yeah, you are…” Another soldier approached the man. He saw no threat in some unarmed, yelling kid. Well, until he materialized a gruesome gauntlet on his left hand and popped his head from a meter away. This was supposed to be a trump card for Hawkeye.
Don’t know… Don’t care… Kill you… My saber… Kill… Take saber… Kill you all…
…
…
This was a bloodbath, dozens, if not hundreds of corpses were left in Keyaruga’s wake. For him, it felt like sleepwalking, uninterrupted by any pain or wounds. For Jioral’s soldiers, though, the man in the green cape became death incarnate. He pierced, he cleaved, he slashed, he punched, he kicked, he burned, he pummeled, he ripped helmets from the straps just to shove his fingers into someone’s eyes, he malleted cuirasses, until only gruesome meat remained underneath the chunk of dent metal, he broke bones with his bare hands, he rolled guts onto his saber, he ripped heats to feed on them, he…
He walked toward another crowd of victims. They were not difficult to recognize. The same manufactured armor, same spears. Stepping over the corpses, the man strolled forward. Nothing could stop him, nothing could oppose him, he was invincible, even his magic pool didn’t seem to dry out, as Georgius continuously fed its master by processing wild mana floating around. This was the true immortality… And it turned the man into a walking bearer of death. No matter where he walked, corpses, brutality and misery were there to meet him. Until…
“Hey, look! It’s him… Hey, brother!” The voice belonged to Uslav. One of the first people Keyaruga met in Buranikka.
“You saved us again!” His friend Gort was also there. Two of them were hiding in a house. Its door was broken off its hinges. If not for Keyaruga, drenched head to toe with the blood of his enemies, they would have died. Now, though, they could easily come out of hiding to greet the hero of the day.
“Pal, that’s the second time we owe you our lives. Look, after it’s all over, come to the market, I’ll reward you handsomely.”
And so, they left. Keyaruga, though, finally snapped out of his crimson haze. It was as if he finally woke up from a long and tormenting nightmare. Just to find out he was in the deepest pit of a foul purgatory.
Norn… Norn!
“NO-O-O-O-ORN!!!” The healer yelled, calling onto the princess. He glanced through the walls, it was his last hope. A fleeing desire to see her safe… “Norn… I see you… I’m coming for you.”
…
“Report.” The warlady demanded, staring through the city hall’s balcony. Hawkeye was standing right beside the princess. He already used three of Keyaruga’s remedies he bought from Karman, spilling it right into his eyes. They still hurt.
“Yes, Your Highness. The situation is dire, the demons are breaking through our formations, and we can’t maintain the offensive.” The messenger unwillingly admitted. “Our forces took severe casualties on the west-eastern flank. The Survivors stated it was but one man…”
“It’s Keyaru!” The girl said, waving her head. She had calculated every possible outcome of the battle, every single turn it could take. In case of a perfect scenario, Buranikka would be occupied by the end of the day with casualties around seventeen percent. But in the worst case… “He singlehandedly slaughtered my entire front, allowing demons to reinforce the other defensive lines! Call the retreat. The fight is already lost.”
“Ehm… Yes, yes, Your Highness.” The messenger ran away, and Norn remained in the conference hall, alone with Hawkeye.
“Allow me to express my apologies, Princess Norn.” The archer said, kneeling before the girl.
“Pff, for what? I already knew you wouldn’t win the battle of attrition. You would either kill him in one shot, or fail miserably.” The warlady admonished Organ with apparent defeatism in her voice. “Go on. Retreat. Shoo, you idiot!” The girl exclaimed, pointing toward the exit. “What? I’ll stay here! Go; flee while you still can, imbecile!”
“No, Your Highness. We can still win.” The last Champion of Jioral stated, rising on his feet. “I have not exposed my other weapons yet.”
“Ha-hah, that’s my prince you’re talking about, you damn cutthroat!” Norn chuckled, covering her face with a left palm. “Stupid men, always playing with their damn toys… Whether they have a handle, or grow from their crotches.” The warlady deadpanned, and miraculously, that joke made Organ Trist chuckle a bit. This was supposed to be single moment of mirth in the ocean of despair…
“My friends, can you hear me?” And then, a massive image appeared above Buranikka.
“Ha-ha-hah… There she is… There’s my sister!”
…
“You’re ready, Freia?” Eve asked, pouring yet another vials worth of mana potion down the sorceress’ throat. That was the fourth time the maiden had done that. After all, Setsuna remained on guard, ready to protect her friends should anyone barge inside.
“Yeah… Yes, Evy.” The magician replied, resting her hands upon the floor. This was her first time casting a spell of such magnitude, since she wasn’t allowed to use it in Ranalitta’s colosseum. And she was using divine blood as a catalyst, no less.
“Setsuna can’t smell anyone.” The huntress admitted, staying at the door. Each of them had some goal to uphold. Keyaruga fought on the frontlines, Freia was supposed to work on the grand projection spell aimed to turn the tables in terms of “their” sides’ morale, and Setsuna along with Eve were her protectors.
Their defeat at Hawkeye’s hand played a huge part in their compliance with this arrangement. If not for that, the three would never choose to stay inside while Jioral committed atrocities outside. They may have failed to save a few lives, but in the end…
“My friends, can you hear me? I’m the first princess of the Jioral kingdom, the Hero of Magic, Flare Arlgrande Jioral!” A gentle voice resounded under Buranikka. A goddess in all of her beauty came down to the earth. All the fighting, all the plundering, all the bloodshed had stopped, just to heed the words of that embodiment of light. “Not so long ago, I came to this gorgeous city! The days I’ve spent here were unforgettable! I enjoyed love here, I was presented a lyre here, the kind my mother used to play, I ate wonderful food here! And I can tell you, it was absolutely wonderful here! Humans and ma-zok live here like equals, we’re not enemies, nobody brainwashed anyone, and nobody is possessed here! It was a paradise of tolerance and peace! Why’re you doing all of this? Look at those people you’re hurting! Have they done something bad? Have they wronged you in some way? What makes them your enemies? Ears? Horns? Tails? That doesn’t make us that different! That doesn’t prevent us from eating, drinking, laughing, and loving! Please, I beg you! Stop spilling each other’s blood! It’s not a holy war; it’s just a spiral of everlasting cruelty! Drop your weapons; stop using your blades against innocents! Buranikka is a miracle; we must protect it at all cost! A city, where two nations can live in harmony! Show some empathy and kindness! Stop this battle, look at their faces, and tell me, are they so different from you, your friends, your children? What’s tasty for us, is tasty for them, what is funny to us, makes them laugh as well! Cease all this violence and bloodshed, let’s gather around one big table, sit, and eat a great meal together, so that we all could enjoy ourselves peacefully… Or we can go on like, and drown in darkness. But this is not the world I’d like to live in. So please, I beg you, find mercy for others in your heart!”
And that was it. After those words, Flare’s image had dissolved to nothingness in the skies above, leaving nothing but an eerie melancholy feeling in the air. Her words were strong, powerful, but most importantly – they were absolutely sincere. With her kind-hearted speech, the girl completely ruined Jioral’s morale, demolished their sense of self-righteousness, and even the discord Norn had so brutally sown among the citizens, had been dispelled.
Buranikka had united; it became monolithic in the face of the common threat. Warriors fought with unseen valiancy, common folk helped them with stones, ammunition, they chased spearmen into various traps, squashed by giant dogs, lizards, oxen, buried under the rubble – without their battle willingness to fight, Jioral’s troops were just too easy to handle, they fled, and no amount of money spent on their armors, helped them in such a predicament. Many had surrendered, hoping for the mercy and tolerance Flare was preaching a minute ago. Some found it, some did not. Too many people were forever scarred by their meaningless brutality, after all. The battle for Buranikka was over…
“Hey! Norn, Organ…” ...but the fight over the princess had only just begun. “…fancy seeing you two here.” Keyaruga sneered, putting two of the guards “to sleep” with a single touch.
