Prince Kyle Lightbearer woke up from his short rest, greeted by the morning sun and the shouting of soldiers. He washed his face and saw the man in the mirror, filled with sorrow and regret.

"I can't look like this."

Almost instantly, it vanished and turned into the face befitting the leader of the last resistance. It had been a long 10 years since this war started, and they fought different beings from different realms, armed with their uniqueness and alienness. These beings started shaving down the forces of men. Humanity had already been weakened by the fight of the kingdoms to reclaim the glory of the Fallen Empire. They did this to themselves. Their greed weakened them. Their downfall was imminent, and annihilation was ensured. There was also one option left: To fall with grace and bring suffering to the enemy. With resolute will, he walked out of his room and entered the council of the leaders of what was left of humanity. He was greeted with them bickering like children. They stopped and looked at him as he entered the room.

"Prince Kyle, I hope you had a good rest because it might be your last one, for the next one will be a lot longer. The enemies are coming with enough force to overwhelm us, with troops to spare."

Every time he repeated this day, Kyle was met with this man's speech, highlighting their obvious impending doom. This man was the bearer of the Empire's cursed bloodline, The Sellsword King.

"I can't think of it as cursed anymore," he thought.

"You are right, Sellsword King Darius, this will be our last fight."

Everyone became silent, shocked by his admittance of their end.

"I found out the power of the enemy. It is the ability to reset the day every time their leader is killed, armed with the knowledge of the future. I hijacked this ability and lived this day over and over again. I already lost myself a long time ago, yet we still haven't found a way to win."

Angered by his revelation, Darius shouted, "So we're just gonna give up and let them win?"

"Yes. We're gonna die, but we will use the plan that you proposed."

Kyle replied calmly and then continued, "I had discussed this with multiple previous Darius versions, and they proposed that we die a meaningful death. The leader of the enemy is capable of viewing the future but not the past. So we are left with two options: we nominate someone to go back to the past, or we send a spell back to the past. Sending someone back to the past will arm him with knowledge of the future but not ensure his survival. Sending a spell to the past, however, will allow us to create a chance for their future by eliminating the head of the enemy."

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"How are we able to assassinate their leader when we can't win against them?"

"We'll lose and send the spell back. The spell will send knowledge of our world to a different dimension and take back two people that it deems worthy after their death. This will twist the past, changing the future, and since it includes dimensionality, it will cause blade-like ripples to the future. The resonance between the two individuals will cause the ripple to become a wave. This, however, will result in anyone peering into the future of our world suffering."

"The future isn't something you should peer into anyway," Darius mused.

"You already had me when you said it was my plan. And since this sheep-like council can't refute you anyway, what are we supposed to do? Kill every enemy until you cast your spell?"

"No, you need to hold them back, but you can't kill commanders or let them die."

Kyle refuted and explained, "I already explained that the moment their leader senses a commander's death, they will reset the day and make it harder for us to defend. So hold them back and don't let them kill themselves."

"Right, my bad. This just made the impossible task even more ridiculous. You do realize that we no longer have foot soldiers. We only have support mages, healers, and archers, so defending this place in a pacifist way is infinitely harder."

"You can make the commanders half-dead or near-death, but you can't kill them. Only them, you can't kill. Everything else is fair game."

"What an unreasonable employer. Fine, I'd rather go down and prepare. You can keep discussing whatever is left."

As such, Darius picked up his giant hollow mace and jumped from the seventh-floor window, heading toward the castle gate.

At noon, the enemies arrived, but the preparations were complete. Darius stood outside the wall, surrounded by multiple mages, and shouted:

"With the contract that binds you to my bloodline and your oath to the Dark Emperor, I summon, The Iron-Blooded General, Darkwill."

The inside of Darius's mace ignited with red flames, and a haze appeared behind him. The haze solidified and manifested a warrior clad in black armor. The surrounding support mages began casting their spells.

"Ethereal Muscle!"

The apparition's ethereal muscles of mana began to form, strengthening Darkwill's limbs and allowing him to channel the energy required to perform powerful skills.

"Lightning Network!"

The armor rippled with electric energy, and the lightning network formed within Darkwill, granting him the ability to think clearly and respond faster, rather than just acting as a mindless spirit.

"Bone Filament!"

A skeletal structure of spectral bone woven into Darkwill's form made his apparition more durable, absorbing incoming strikes' force and adding mass to his otherwise ethereal body.

"Armor Barrier!"

A secondary layer of ethereal armor appeared, a translucent barrier that further reinforced Darkwill's physical resilience, providing protection from any direct attacks.

"Veil of Shadows!"

A dark mist enveloped Darkwill, making him appear more ghostly and shadowed, allowing him to blend into the surroundings, appearing almost imperceptible.

"Spiteful Empowerment!"

The final spell surged through the apparition, channeling all remaining magical energy into Darkwill, vastly boosting his strength and presence.

Once empowered, Darius raised his mace and commanded the mages, "Create Lesser Phantoms!"

A dark energy pulsed outward from Darkwill, and spectral figures began to form around him. These lesser versions of Darkwill, though less solid than their commander, retained his imposing presence, wielding ghostly weapons and shadows in the form of spectral soldiers. The mages amplified their strength, and these lesser phantoms, though weaker, stood at the ready, prepared for battle.

The enemy—an army of glass and mirror-like creatures—surrounded the last bastion of humanity. The war began when the sun was at its peak and ended when a flash of light illuminated the inside of the castle, creating a history that no one would know or remember.