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A Century Later
#0 Prologue | Backstab in an untimely scenario

#0 Prologue | Backstab in an untimely scenario

THE STORY IS MEANT TO BE READ AT Max Width, 14px, OR THE TEXT WILL SEPARATE WEIRDLY MAYBE(?)

HOWEVER, IF YOU'RE NOT COMFORTABLE WITH THAT THEN IT SHOULDN'T BE TOO MUCH OF AN ISSUE(?)

In a tall field of grass, a small but elite Warband of heavily armored combatants marched forth.

These brave men and women had just seized victory in a battle that decided the world's fate!

But they did not celebrate.

They were too exhausted to do so otherwise.

In this battered-up state, they were extremely vulnerable to the vicious magical beasts in the area.

Fortunately, they were being escorted by the allied forces under the Unified Empire's banner.

To sum it up, the result of that war had put an end to the many centuries of Demonic Tyranny.

Or well... That's what the other races had called it since the beginning of time... Tyranny, huh.

Although the demons were domineering, they did improve civilization a whole lot during their reign.

Alas, the other races used their technology and magic to create an opportunity to rebel against them.

What is evil? Whatever springs from weakness.

By the center of the marching formation of that Warband was the figurehead who fought the demons before anyone else.

This man was a summon, a so-called hero brought through space and time to save the world in times of crisis and despair.

The glory stuff aside, the role of leading the first strike was imposed on him.

Right, it wasn't like he had a choice... He was forced to vanquish the demons.

All summons are branded with a holy blessing; a curse in disguise which compels one to follow a certain course of actions.

At first, he was alone until he formed a small team that became a squad and-

And twenty years after the summon, it became the now distinguished Warband.

Summons come from all kinds of places. This summon's former world was a technological place lacking magic power.

He wanted to tell more about it but his memories were sealed away as a side-effect of being brought over as a summon.

Either way, he did not want to recall his former world's memories.

They were better off gone... That's right... DO NOT REMEMBER.

The late Holy Maiden who sacrificed herself to summon him gave the then young man a calling.

'Xiveall Drofganl' was bestowed upon him and become his name that spread to the vast lands afar.

Everyone knew him. When saying this, it meant that even the secluded elves at the west end of the continent did so too.

The church, which would later lose its power, had strongly coveted him for his affinity and prowess to freely contract the Holy Spirits.

By the way... Spiritualism had nothing to do with Magic... They were very different although can be combined... We'll get to that later.

Xiveall Drofganl specialized in Light Magic; fast and instantly lethal attacks!

But it was certainly most unfit for forceful impacts and/or lingering damage.

Although that was the case for him, forming a Light Beam dense enough to kill something in one go was hard for the common person.

However, it did not stop him who became perhaps the first to kill a Pillar Demon (Archdemon) with the very basic Light Magic: 'Beam'

Thus, it was an already amazing feat that he was able to penetrate a Demon's defenses... Not to mention an Archdemon's at that!

And it wasn't just that... He was also able to use Healing Magic to a very great degree... Or to an unrealistic degree, per se...?

Everyone who had been saved by his Healing Magic during the seemingly never-ending expeditions boasted long-lasting tales.

His well-known reputation as the Greatest Healer during the Great War's peak times engulfed the whole continent like wildfire.

The nations of the empire then granted him varying titles:

Dawnbreaker... Harbinger of Light... Saint of Hope...

Xiveall, despite having all the privileges and abilities mentioned above was a rather lowkey existence in his off-time.

He did not boast around but was extremely aloof. He treated everyone equally, very befitting to his given title of Saint.

A vivid depiction of Xiveall Drofganl in his etched spider-silk garments.

[https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/404059426413084672/705422051615440986/Xiev.PNG]

Somewhere within a forest, Xiveall had snuck away from the army to go behind a dense treeline.

He unfastened his belt and dropped his boxers just as a powerful stream gushed into the bush.

It was a moment of bliss as the stream came to a halt, and he pulled up his pants-

And then, a sudden violent nudge came against his back, following him through.

He glanced down to see a jet-black needle blade sticking right out of his chest-!?

Coated in a black ominous aura, that blade had pierced right through the heart.

For a normal living being, especially a fragile human, the curtains would've long closed.

But Xiveall? He was a summon blessed with an absurdly high Life Force and many buffs.

As for the person who had stabbed him... It was the newly assigned escort, a female knight from the Imperial Forces.

Such an ending was inevitable. Xiveall knew from the start that those corrupt nobles would never let him go scot-free.

But seriously-!? To stab him while he was taking a leak- And the reason for this...

"It's not my fault that all of your crazy wives and mistresses abducted me, is it-!?"

The female knight backed away with unsure steps, having expected Xiveall to accept his fate in despair.

"And I'm talking about the people who sent you-!!!" He spat out blood. "Is this what they call a heartbreak?"

He looked down at his chest and tried to use Healing Magic but there came no healing effect on the wound.

The knight's pretty face became rather ugly from the subconscious grin; a wretched sinister one.

Xiveall realized right away that the sword sticking through his chest was cursed, a relic-grade at that.

The knight's grin didn't last as in the next second, the cursed relic sword was stabbed through her instead.

"Wait for me in the after-life, okay~?" He said in the cutest tone ever and winked like a happy fool at her.

Xiveall then pulled out the black blade from the knight who was still dumbfounded at what was happening.

Her form wavered slightly as she looked up at Xiveall in a confusion, convulsing blood.

"Back where I'm from, we call this... Uno Reverse Card-!!!"

With a motion of raising the blade, he threw it at her with all his might.

The air cracked after that as the sword went with the knight towards the other accomplice knight who was hiding in a tall bush nearby.

The sword collaterally caught them both between a large tree, pinning their instantaneously lifeless bodies on quite a frantic display.

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"Ugh," Xiveall winced and clenched his composure to stand straight. "I'll never understand why we humans fight against one another."

The chest cavity was still leaking out blood. His Healing Magic had near no effect against the wound caused by the cursed needle blade.

Charring it with Fire Magic... Sealing it up with Ice Magic... None of it worked as the magic circles were shattered and dispelled right away.

The sounds of plate armor clanking and closing in snapped Xiveall back to his senses.

He shifted his feet to slant his posture and face the direction of the incoming sounds.

A short wide blade was drawn from his worn-out leather scabbard.

A battalion of Imperial Knights came past the line of bushes before halting in varying rows away from him.

The troops were all on foot... So Xiveall, despite his vision already blurring out, spotted the leader right away.

The woman with sharp navy blue eyes and long black hair on a gallant steed... He recognized her right away.

Her men moved aside as she trotted up to him, stopping just a bit outside a typical engagement distance.

"Sir Xiveall. We meet again."

"You... We fought side-by-side in the final offensive, didn't we...?"

"Yes. I remember. I still owe you my life."

"Then... May I kindly ask? Why are you doing this?"

"... I must follow orders."

Her gaze was blank, although filled with a slight hint of regret.

"Welp... You cold-hearted bitch...", he winced and pointed his blade at her, "Fine... Let's see who dies first."

She looked at him for the last time, whipped the reins, and galloped back to her post behind the rows of knights.

About two dozen heavily armored knights formed up tightly in a block formation.

This was a densely packed shield formation meant for running down the opponent.

Upon seeing that they weren't planning to play it fair, Xiveall threw a middle finger at all of them.

The leading knight clanked his shield.

"BY MY ORDER... CHARGEEEEEEE!!!"

The unstoppable wall of gleaming steel rushed their blades, shields, and spears at Xiveall.

In that sorry condition, even a veteran who fought on the demonic frontlines would be helpless.

"Damn... I still haven't enjoyed a single moment of peace in this world yet... Why is this happening to me-!?"

In this world, a swordsman can stand on par with a magician, stating that they were skilled and talented enough.

Naturally, one can overcome these mighty magic-users with martial feats, tools, enchants, and various weapons.

Then, what makes someone who does not have any of these aspects in both fields?

Well, Xiveall did have a talent... A talent for working much harder than anyone else.

Bright firefly-like lights wrapped around Xiveall's loosely held blade.

It was then swung diagonally upright, akin to a lethargic spell throw.

The lieutenants commanding the individual squads saw this and quickly ordered their men to get out of the way.

In that sweeping motion, the air was split as the charging block formation of knights was seamlessly sliced apart.

Even with their heavily enchanted armor, the knights stood no chance as a thin flash of light swept through them.

The thin blade of light continued to deforest the vicinity before dispersing after a few more dozen meters of travel.

CRASH! The trees fell over as debris burst about, creating an artificial clearing within the forest.

The rest of the battalion in the back had reacted in time and ducked to avoid that magical slash.

However, it was a different story for the ranks of the physically inept mages stationed in the rear.

Xiveall wearily watched as they retreated away to the edge of the newly formed forest clearing.

Taking chase or running was a bad idea, seeing how injured he was. So, he decided to stand his ground.

Xiveall groaned and clenched his composure, empowering healing magic towards his heart, but to no avail.

"Useless Mages!", the commander growled, "Pavise Unit, form Shield-Wall! Armorless Unit, Two-Line Formation!"

In just the next few seconds, rows of heavy towering shields were emplaced in the front with archers and crossbowmen behind.

The commander narrowed her sharp eyes at the now panting Xiveall who was still trying to stop the heavy bleeding, "Volley Fire!"

Upon seeing them string their bows and crossbows, Xiveall tossed his sword aside.

A row of Enchanted Pavises was known to be impenetrable by magic attacks.

Xiveall knew the extent of his Light Magic... However, there was still a method.

The arrows and bolts let loose, raining down upon his lone pitiful figure that stood on the empty field.

A huge magic circle appeared below him as it ticked shortly like clockwork before spinning out of control.

Xiveall scoffed, "Too bad, huh... I guess this is where we all die... Annihilation-Scale Light Magic-----!!!"

A bright dome of light then expanded outwards, disintegrating everything that came into contact with it.

And so, the battalion of imperial knights that was swallowed by the blinding light also ceased to exist-

In the aftermath, Xiveall was lying in his pool of crimson by the middle of the crater that had formed.

"Aah, only if I was stronger... No... That's not---" he closed his eyes "I... just... wanted a peaceful life..."

Humans were relatively defenseless creatures.

They can't dodge surprise attacks like the agile elves nor reach their vast intellect.

They can't take heavy impacts like the sturdy dwarves nor best their skilled craftsmanship.

They can't perceive danger like the cunning beastmen nor attain their spiritual insight.

But in the end, if something can die... They'll die.

Any being can only prolong their lives for so long.

However, only the humans were known to have exceeded that limit, even if momentarily.

It was thanks to their short lifespan and sheer willpower... The will to never give up.

This occasionally allows them to cross the line where other races wouldn't dare.

As such, there was no explanation for what had just happened.

A stone monument had swallowed up Xiveall's body whole.

The skies overlooking the forest above then growled.

It seems like some dark clouds had begun to form.

A CENTURY LATER

(Heavy Rain Transition)

Light footsteps splashed about in the mud as a robed figure rushed up to the scene by the sunken crater which had begun to flood.

The robed figure unsteadily slipped and tumbled down the crater upon reaching the edge, clutching a bloodied wound to the abdomen.

After getting back up, he dragged himself through the knee-high water and came to a silent stop by the middle.

His tear-filled eyes gawked up at the towering stone monument etched with unknown symbols by the center.

On that rainy day, the unknown robed figure swore a vow of vengeance to the roaring heavens above.

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