The sun was rising, its radiant beams of light gradually eclipsing the pitch black night. The usual choir of birds began to sing as the break of day approached. A variety of animals, having awoken from their nightly slumber, go about their daily business searching for ways to feed their children. Whether it was simply foraging food, or hunting down their prey, they are simply means to an end: survival of the fittest. It was a battleground. And a battleground it would be.

The sounds of the chirping birds were slowly drowned out by the synchronized footsteps of the approaching army. The rhythmic pounding of drums thundered through the fields, driving away any living thing foolhardy enough to stand in the battalion’s path. Birds frantically flew away in a haphazardous fashion, several deer galloped nervously; hoping to avoid the mechanical might of the army. Even the scavenging snakes hastily slithered their way out, some of them outright flattened by the crushing power of the soldiers’ authoritative march.

But the animals were fleeing in the wrong direction. The deer were soon impaled with several arrows, some of the birds burnt to a frying crisp in mid-air, and before long, the vast expanse of the valley became a bloody ring of hell. Opposite the organized army was a mass of enraged men, if one could call them men. The barbaric horde was thrice the size of the army, and perhaps four times as fierce. They stood before the outnumbered soldiers, about to encircle and trap their prey.

Among the army was a young man, who was barely able to fit inside his bulky, oversized armor, which was clanking violently from his uncontrollable shivering. Unlike the other soldiers, who moved with machine-like precision, this man fidgeted with his belt every two seconds to prevent it from falling off his slender body, which was little more than three quarters the size of his bulky, muscled companions. While the soldiers’ eyes were emotionlessly directed at the enemy, the man’s eyes darted about nervously.

The majority of the army was Arcadian, but this particular man bore the look of a man from Serica, an empire in the Far Orient, far from the lands of occidental Arcadia. Yet, in spite of his eastern visage, his movements were indistinguishable from the Arcadian soldiers surrounding him. His voice was that of an Arcadian, his air and manner were no different from his Occidental companions. He might have been a Serican in body, but he was an Arcadian in essence.

‘Sir!’ The young man shouted. ‘We are outnumbered three to one! How will we survive?’

‘Fighting an untrained throng of angry men is child’s play,’ the officer standing next to the man comfortably uttered with articulation. ‘As masters of spell and blade, we have braved dangers far mightier than this one.’

The commanding superior turned his face, revealing many scars of war, ranging from cuts to second degree burns. His wrinkled face was that of a man who has seen many years of service to His Eminence, as opposed to the raw, young face of the Serican man, who had yet to experience the sting of battle.

‘Hold!’ The officer confidently shouted to his troops. ‘Hold!’ The entire army slowly backed away as the horde charged at them with relentless vigor. As if they were a part of a great machine, the soldiers raised their shields in unison, their swords drawn at the ready. Sweat pouring down his face, the young man quivered. Yet, in spite of the apparent fear taking hold of him, there was something in his eyes that showed a sense of curiosity, perhaps even excitement. His lips grew into a small smirk, albeit shifted unevenly onto one side. Like most youths of his time, his emotions were often paradoxical and convoluted.

The armies have finally met face to face. Within striking, slashing distance of each other, each man stared into the eyes of his enemy. Cruel, dark intent consumed each person, whether he was a civilized soldier from Arcadia, or an unsightly barbarian from the lawless outskirts of the Empire.

Without a second’s warning, the two armies clashed as everyone standing in the fields became immersed in conflict. Errant yells of intimidation and screams of agony boomed left and right. In the middle of the wanton chaos, the young man, having yet to fight, stood in a crazed stupor, staring aimlessly into the sea of swords, axes, and javelins.

In the middle of the bloodbath was a large man, adorned in black steel. Dark clouds were seeping out of his arms and legs. There was something very inhuman about the large man. Something demonic.

The Serican man readied himself, trying to remember one of the many defensive stances he learned from the academy. But he struggled to recall the stance as he attempted to assess the large man’s possible attack patterns and weaknesses. The Serican did his best to veil his state of pallid fear, although he was spouting out curses underneath his breath.

Out of all the soldiers here, why me?

It did not matter why the man chose the Serican, instead of his officers, auxiliary mages, or the healing units. There was only one thought going through the Serican’s head.

Just survive!

The Serican leapt at the large, mysterious man with all of his might, two orbs of compressed arcane energy circling around him with his blade drawn, which struck alight a vivid stream of blue flame.

At least I remembered those incantations!

But there was no time to think about how much he learned from school, only time to think about how he will get out of the fight alive. After being denied an opening, easily shrugging off the Serican’s frantic swipes, the large man, without breaking a sweat, swept aside the young man’s sword, sending it flying into the sky.

The young Serican soon found himself on the ground, a strong force having forced him down onto the bloodstained soil. He could feel the tip of the sword pricking his neck. It was over. The Serican was speechless as his opponent cursed him.

‘Are you ready to meet your fate?’

He said nothing.

‘No?’

His mouth moved in a strange way, but there was nothing audible from him.

‘Excellent...’

The man’s vision instantly blacked out. There was nothing.