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Brothers
Brother

Brother

Brothers

"So, are you sure?"

"Yes."

"You know you're going to die, right?"

"Yes, I know that!"

"Is there nothing I can do to change your mind?"

"Nothing."

"Why are you doing this?"

"It's my duty."

"It's not what Mom and Dad would have wanted!"

"It's what I want."

"You'll be alone, everyone else has run away."

"I'm aware of that."

"Drasis, I..."

"Don't say anything else, Talak."

"...Farewell, brother."

"Goodbye."

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Resignation. There was no other word to describe the emotion that lingered on the faces of the citizens of the small town of E-Morte.

The Sorcerer King's troops were about to launch their attack, only a couple more days at max before the pestilential horde reached their walls as well, bringing scorched earth, as it did with the other numerous towns in the vicinity.

Running was futile, as only death could bring relief from the Sorcerer King's wrath.

And yet, some clung to that futile hope as a vagrant with nothing to his name, clings to his old rags.

Small caravans of desperate people were amassing at the gates, waiting for their turn to come, so that they could leave what was now certain doom.

Stupid? Perhaps. But still, the only alternative left.

"We are ready, Talak. Only waiting for you."

Veroro's voice brought Talak back to reality. Along with him, Ragan and Dodobebo were also ready for departure.

The Manticore Claws, his second family. Soon the only one he would have left.

"Do you think we are making the right choice? Maybe we should have stayed and fought, too. With our help and that of all the other adventurers, we can succeed in saving the city."

"Of course, I'm sure that with a handful of silver-rank adventurers, those legendary monsters won't stand a chance. Prepare your weapons, my friends. It's time to become heroes. Glory awaits us!"

Talak knew that Ragan's mocking words did not conceal malice, but only frustration. Not being able to do anything to defend what they had once called home was humiliating enough. Having to run away with their tails between their legs like a bunch of frightened brats was even worse.

"I just don't feel like leaving him alone, that's all. Knowing that he is going to stay here and fight a desperate battle just to give others a chance to survive fills me with anger. If only I weren't so weak, I could do something to be able to help him."

"Your brother has made his choice, and it is not for us to contradict him. Besides, you are aware of why he decided to stay and defend this small town. Don't lie to yourself. It is not for all the people of the city that he is doing this. But only for one person. Someone we both know well!"

Dodobebo's words tore at his heart like the blade of a knife. The truth could hurt more than a lie.

"Do you think I don't know? I just wish that for once, just once, he would confide in me what he really feels. Not some stupid excuses, but the truth in his heart."

His companion stared into his eyes as if she were watching a play whose every line she knew by heart. The other team members followed her example. How many times had he complained about his brother's unfriendly attitude? It didn't matter; this would be the last.

"Are you sure you don't want to try again? Maybe with the right words, you could convince him. If you don’t, you may regret it in the future.”

“No, it’s too late. He made his choice, and it’s not up to me to make him change his mind.”

“But…”

“It’s too late, I said!”

Even if his companions insisted on giving another chance to his brother, Talak was deadbeat and serious about his conviction.

"Okay, I think we've talked enough. Let's go! We have a long journey ahead of us before we reach the Argland Council State."

Veroro took charge of the situation, as he had always been accustomed to doing in all these years.

Talak picked up the bag containing his few belongings: a few discarded clothes, some poorly shredded books, and a blunt comb, the last memento of their mother.

He looked at the last object, feeling memories of simpler times emerging as he did so. How much he missed her, he couldn’t tell. If she was still here, maybe she would have been able to talk some sense into her hard-headed stubborn son.

But there was no time to waste if they were to grasp the hope of salvation. Nothing he could do to save Drasis, not anymore.

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 "So, you have decided to be an adventurer? What is this madness, Talak?"

Drasis could barely contain his anger. All his sacrifices, his struggles, pain, exhaustion, deprivation, and mistreatment had been directed toward one end. To see Takal safe, living a full and honest life.

"You knew I was training with Veroro. I thought you approved of my being able to wield a sword."

"Sure, for your personal self-defense. Not for you to go around facing dangers like any straggler."

"That's what you do!"

"That's precisely why I don't want you to do it!"

How could he not understand? It wasn't a matter of mere whims; it was his life he was putting on the line.

"I can't stand to see you risking your skin every day while I enjoy life at your expense. It's not fair."

"Yes, it is fair, that's what I want for you."

Drasis looked at his brother's deep blue eyes, so similar to their father's. He had taken from him the same fortitude and fiery impetus. In comparison, he was just a coward who had hidden behind his profession so as not to show his weaknesses.

"By now the decision is made, we are no longer two children. I will not allow you alone to care for me as a fragile piece of glass that needs all the precautions in the world to be kept safe."

"Talak, you are going to die. You don't have the talent to survive long in the profession. Why do you think Veroro wants you on his team? We both know that he lost two men on his last mission and now he is looking for an easy replacement to shield him if the situation becomes critical."

"Do you think I don't know?" Talak countered with anger at his brother. "Do you think I'm so foolish that I can't see when I'm being exploited?"

"Then why? Tell me why!" If he was telling the truth; if he was aware of what he was saying, how could he accept in his heart that crazy plan? Could he not see the trouble he was getting himself into?

"I want you to be proud of me. For you not to think of me as just a burden."

"I am proud of you."

"Please," his voice inflected with a tone of disdain and resentment. "Don't lie, not this time. I can see how tiring it has been for you, all these long years, to take care of me. I know deep in your heart you despise me, blame me for forcing you to go through a life full of tribulation and renunciation."

This was not true. They were lies, false impressions. An accusation with no basis in reality. Talak was his beloved brother, his reason for living. Sacrificing his existence if it meant just one more day in this world for him would not have been too great a burden to bear.

"You are the person I care about most in the world. Nothing hurts me more than to know that you think that about me. I beg you, allow me to make it right. Just one more chance."

This, he was supposed to say.

Instead, the silence was the only noise that accompanied the discussion. Why? Because he knew that those accusations were not without foundation after all.

"Don't you have anything to say?" Talak asked, without even looking him in the eye.

"No. If that's your choice, it's not my place to question it. You're an adult now, aren't you? Just, I beg you, be careful."

"I will. See you, brother."

And without another word, he left. Leaving Drasis alone with his thoughts and guilt as the only judge.

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Even the stars that night seemed to have lost their light. Drasis remained motionless, waiting for the moment when everything would begin.

It was not long, hours at most. He took a deep breath. Although he had been preparing for that moment all his life, he would be a liar if he were to confide that he believed that being crushed by a legendary undead would be the reason for his death.

He had always imagined a more mundane, more pathetic reason. A negligible wound that turned out to be deadly, or a monster that looked harmless but concealed deadly abilities.

Instead, there he was. Last bastion against a madness unleashed on a whim, millions of lives consumed by an ego unable to accept an affront to its power.

He clutched Dispel Haze. The blade shone with a metallic gleam that reflected the dull glow of the stars. Giving up all his savings to buy it had turned out to be the right choice; after all, no need for money in the place he was going.

Thoughts returned to his companions in the Hero's Shield. How many adventures they had gone through together, how many hardships?. Shaira, Korel, Wesson, Lotel.

He was grateful that they had not made his stupid choice. To see them die by his  side would have been too painful, even for him.

"Are you all right, Mr. Drasis? Would you like me to bring you a cup of hot coffee to stay awake?"

One of the sentries turned to him with a look full of admiration. His fame as a member of an Orichalcum team always brought respect, yet now it seemed such an empty and meaningless thing.

"No, I thank you Vodel. My mind has never been so alert, and my body was never so ready for action. I don't think even the most powerful sleeping pill in the world could get me to sleep now."

"You are so strong, sir. I'm sure that with your help we will be able to fend off those creatures out of the infernal depths."

So much confidence in him. A desire to be able to share the boy's feelings began to take shape in his chest. But had difficulty in accepting that those words filled with admiration corresponded to the truth.

"How old are you, Vodel? You still look young."

"Just turned twenty-four. I only enlisted last spring. In retrospect, it was not the wisest choice, hahaha."

Twenty-four. So young. Even younger than Talak. How could he not be frightened by their impending defeat? Perhaps he should have been the grade Orichalcum.

"Aren't you afraid? I don't want to give you false hope, the chances of succeeding are much lower than you think."

"The important thing for me is to know that my wife and daughter are safe. If my sacrifice gives them a chance to escape, then I will die with a smile on my face."

"You are much braver than I am, boy. Much more than you know."

"Don't say that. If I can be so carefree, it's because I have an exceptional adventurer looking out for me. Knowing that we will fight side by side fills me with courage and determination. If you need a sword, I'm ready to be unsheathed. You have to give me your command."

Drasis smiled. Seeing all that trust in his capabilities invigorated him, a treasure trove of hidden strength he never imagined he had stored within himself was found in the deep of his heart.

"After these words of encouragement, I must give my best to succeed in not disappointing your expectations. I am, like you, also fighting for someone I care about."

"Who is it, if you don't mind me asking?"

"My little brother. He is a little older than you, but to me, he will always remain the usual whiny baby. I only stayed here to give him a chance to escape."

"Then I will do anything so that you can see him again. We both hold a dream, the dream of re-embracing our loved ones."

Vodel held his spear, to show that he was ready for combat. He took his stance, lashing a few slashes against the air. His posture was firm and decisive, and the skill with which he wielded his weapon showed steady, strenuous training that, given time to mature, could lead to splendid results.

Time. If only there was any left.

"Has Lieutenant Ordo given his orders for the night? Are you sure you can stay here with me and waste time?"

"He only gave us summary instructions, ordering us to stay here while waiting for the enemies to arrive. Between you and me, I think his fighting spirit has plummeted to an all-time low, although he does his best not to show it."

"Ordo is an old friend of mine. I'm sure he is doing his best to keep the soldiers' spirits in check, but you must understand that circumstances impose a severe chastisement on his mental state."

Keeping up the morale of a band of soldiers was a task that required the utmost professionalism and experience even under ordinary circumstances. So, it was no wonder that in a dead-end burrow like that, stress reached levels that were difficult to replicate.

"If only Lord Henswe would help him."

"Ever since the baron returned from the Katze plains, he has not been the same. What was once an example among the nobility for his progressive and pro-people policies has become a vegetable devoid of taking even the simplest action. And the city suffered with him."

It was unfortunate, but even though the best healers in the surrounding area had tried to relieve his suffering, there had been nothing they could do.

And their lord had not been the only one who had returned in a similar condition after that unfortunate battle. Why had they not given up then? Why had the crown not realized that there was no choice but to bow its head before a force that knows no reason? Had they acted in time, perhaps they could have avoided that mocking fate. If only it had been possible to write history with ifs and buts.

"Still nothing on the horizon. Do you think they will come soon?"

"The scouts we sent ahead had estimated that the infernal mass would arrive in the early hours of the morning with their current progress. It's still a few hours away. How many soldiers can we count on in all?"

"We are two hundred men of light infantry, one hundred and fifty archers, and about thirty cavalrymen who are part of Baron Henswe's personal guard."

Three hundred eighty in all. Too few. But a larger number anyway would not have made a difference, in all likelihood.

"Magic casters? Do we have any?"

"A couple of adventurers like yourself remained here to defend the city. But I think they belong to the lower ranks of the guild. They are nothing special."

"Better than nothing. Call them and have them come to me. We'll try to come up with a plan, although I doubt if I can come up with a brilliant idea at this point. A few more magic items won't hurt, anyway."

Vodel didn't let that be repeated twice. Nimble as a squirrel, he headed for the lower part of the fortification, where temporary quarters had been set up for the city's militia.

Drasis watched him walk away, nonchalantly. It had only taken a little conversation to grow fond of the boy. When the time came, would he be able to keep his emotions from overwhelming him?

He turned his gaze upward again. Not that it particularly stimulated him, but the weary adventurer found that the sky with its eventless calm concealed the closest thing to stillness he could think of at that moment.

"All this is for him."

Sacrificing himself for one person. If there was such a thing as destiny, he did not doubt that it was what had fallen to him. He had made a promise, long ago, on a deathbed that now seemed as blurry as the image of a distant dream, lost in the meanders of memory.

"Uh, Mom, in a little while I'll see you again. Dad, we'll hug one more time. Who knows what you will say? Will you be proud of me for providing for Takal? Or will you scold me, for throwing my life away without looking back? I have always believed that I acted rightly, following your will. But I wonder if this is what you would have wanted for us. For me. However, now it's late and all I can do is pray to the gods that my life was not a miserable speck of dust blown away by the wind. If someone can hear my prayers, please lead my brother to safety."

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The night stars illuminated a small corner of the city cemetery with their light.  A spring wind blew gently as the sound of leaves crackled nearby.

A far from majestic-looking headstone stood in the center of the scene, bearing an engraving hardly memorable: "Here lies Farkel Regel, loving father and husband."

Two boys, little more than children, were to be found facing it. The younger was on his knees, crying. The older one tried to comfort him with clumsy words.

“Don’t cry, Talak! It’s not what our parents would want to see now.”

"Father is dead. Mother is dead, too. What are we going to do now, Drasis? No one will want to take care of two penniless orphans like us."

Mucus and tears merged on his face in a pathetic picture of grief.

"Don't worry, I'm here. I will take care of us. I promise!"

"How are you going to do that? No one wants to have a brat around these days."

"Mr. Asser promised me a place on his adventuring team. He is an old friend of Dad's and is willing to teach me the business."

"Without demanding anything in return?"

"I'll take care of that. You won't have anything to worry about; as long as I'm around, nothing will happen to you."

He ran a hand through his hair with a gentleness reminiscent of that of their dear mother. Of the two, Drasis was the one who had taken the most from her. The same auburn red hair, the blue eyes as bright as the sky.

And that imposition of self-sacrifice for loved ones far above ordinary human beings. As long as his older brother would be with him, Talak was certain that there was no obstacle too great to face for them.

"But being an adventurer is a dangerous profession. I don't want anything to happen to you."

"We have no alternative. But you have nothing to be afraid of. Everything will be fine, trust me. Just trust me!"

And he did. Only the Four Gods knew if he did it.

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The clearing where they had camped could certainly not have been called a comfortable place. The chill of the evening surrounded them like a blanket, giving them no respite.

If it had not been for the modest campfire they had lit, the members of the Manticore Claw would have already ended up frozen like forlorns wandering in the Azerlisia Mountains.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

"Brrr... so cold. Just the ideal night to sleep outdoors."

"Don't complain, Ragan. We have already been very lucky not to have encountered any wild beasts or, gods forbid, any emissaries of the Sorcerer King."

Veroro brought a slice of bread to his mouth, to calmly savor its tasteless flavor. Normally, low-ranking adventurers like them did not have great economic resources, and after the war began, supplies had begun to run low. Even more than usual. To have procured any supplies at all supplies was already a miracle.

"How do you think this story will end?" Dodobebo asked. Her body was as close as possible to the fire, to absorb its heat.

"About E-Morte, you mean? It will be swept away like a sand castle in the waves." Talak replied, engaging in a false show of indifference.

"No, I mean. How do you think this war will end? Do you believe that the Kingdom of Re-Estize will be wiped out completely?"

"As far as I'm concerned, the sooner this muck ends up in the trash, the better for everyone. This shit country has brought nothing but trouble into the lives of all of us."

"You can't be serious, Ragan."

"I most certainly can. Look at us. We have busted our backs every day of our lives to defend this dump from every kind of beast or monstrosity that threatened the lives of the inhabitants, while those dickheads of the nobles did nothing but fleece the population as if they were filthy leeches. The king should have surrendered months ago, licked that monster's boots, and begged him not to destroy us all. Instead, all he did was stay holed up like a coward in his palace as his domain neared its end."

"You're being unfair, it's not like the king had any alternative. Surrendering to a foreigner so lightly could have undermined the kingdom's internal relations."

Veroro once again showed himself to be the coolest mind in the group. Although Talak did not think he believed all the way in those justifications of his. But wrapping his head around it at that point would only have been futile.

"Bah, to hell with it. It's not like his inactivity has led to anything good anyway."

No one said anything anymore; sparks from the campfire popped producing small noises.

Dodobebo tried to direct the conversation to another point, to divert their thoughts from the grisly future that would await their homeland.

"Did you hear what happened the other day in E-Naeurl? Apparently, the Red Drop was able to defeat two of those undead knights by itself. Perhaps, the situation is not as hopeless as we think."

"Sure. And after this miraculous feat, they will go straight to the heart of E-Rantel, rout the hundreds of legendary monsters with ease and then aim straight for the heart of the Sorcerer King, forever cleansing this land of its undead stench. After that, their leader will have the beautiful golden princess as a prize, they will fuck like rabbits and make many beautiful little babies, which will lead the nation to a new golden age. And they all lived happily ever after."

"Something tells me you don't hold out much hope for their eventual success, Ragan."

As inappropriate as his comrade's colorful words sounded, Takal could not bring himself to disagree. The adamantium teams would perhaps gain some extra time to allow more people to get to safety. But to expect anything more would have been foolish and idealistic, completely out of touch with reality.

"I just wish all this would end, don't you think so too, Talak?"

"I... I don't know what to think."

The moon shone in the sky, but with the timidity of an awkward schoolboy. Under the light of its rays, the group found themselves illuminated by a lifeless glow.  Each of them found themselves coming to terms with the past and their own lives. And the end result was far from satisfactory.

"When I started the craft, I dreamed of becoming the greatest arcanist around." Dodobebo began, breaking again the silence that was beginning to be awkward.

"Instead, I'm so mediocre, I can barely cast second-tier spells. Maybe my father was right when he ordered me to marry the farmer's son. At least now I would be doing something with my life, raising children, and running a store. I ran away in search of vain dreams of glory. And now only nothingness remains."

The girl lamented her broken dreams, hoping that her anguish would find relief in the placid darkness of the night. Stupid, perhaps. But who could blame her? Not that there was an alternative to being able to say goodbye to the past.

"I watched my old man break his back in the fields for years, never making a penny out of it. Ever since I was a little boy, I hated him for that, praying every night that he would grow a little backbone and give it all up and start a more lucrative profession. But he never did. I didn't know at the time how difficult it was to change one's position."

Ragan began to grip his right leg tightly as if he were grabbing an imaginary enemy to give vent to his anger. "Years and years spent training in the forest to become at least a decent ranger. But perseverance alone is not enough. Honestly, if it weren't for you guys, I would have died more times than my stupid head would be able to count."

Seeing the ranger who always looked mocking and scornful of danger show his inner weaknesses had an alienating effect on Talak. They had spent years and years together, searching for ephemeral fame that could gratify their desires. Yet only now did the young man realize that he had never fully understood his companions.

"I see you are taking advantage of the romantic air to vent your feelings. I don't have much to say. My father was an adventurer, and his father was an adventurer before him as well. I suppose he did nothing but follow the destiny that was laid out for me. What about you, Talak? What was the great inspiration that motivated you to take this path?" Veroro asked.

Talak looked at his colleagues, who were eagerly waiting for his answer. Everyone knew his reasons, that was his thought, but perhaps he was not the open book he convinced himself to be.

"You know very well; I just wanted my brother to accept me as his equal. That he no longer saw me as just an inanimate object to be protected and cast aside, but as someone who could walk beside him."

"Oh, nonsense!" Ragan blurted out. "At least right now don't tell us the nonsense you always say about respect and equality."

"Ragan, don't say that." Dodobebo took him back.

"Talak wanted Drasis's respect? But he has always had it.”

“Think what you want, but we both know it’s not true.”

“No, my dear. This is just an excuse you told yourself to justify your behavior. Do you want to know why you joined us?"

"Go ahead, say it!" Talak replied angrily. What did that failed ranger know about how he really felt?

"You couldn't stand that your dear big brother had all the admiration of people. You wanted to be the center of attention yourself, and not be eclipsed by the person who sacrificed everything just to shelter you from the pitfalls and filth of the world. It is because of your selfishness that now your brother will die."

“Lies!”

“Ragan, now stop it.”

“Why?” Asked the ranger. His words were brutal, but frank. “The one you loathed wasn’t Drasis, but you. For being weak, a failure. Envious of the love your brother got, you cast away the only one that cared about you, in pursuit of vain fame you foolishly thought was rightfully yours.”

"No, that's false. I wanted... I only wanted him to tell me for once, just once, that he was proud of me. And that he meant it. His words were always hollow and filled with falsehood, the contempt he felt was obvious."

Just remembering Drasis’s gaze devoid of dreams and ambitions caused excruciating pain in Talak’s chest. And it was his fault for that lack of any willing human reaction. His alone. If he had never been born, if a devoid loser like him had not crippled him so badly, his brother might have risen to the rank of heroes.

Gazef Stronoff, Brain Unglaus, The Red Drop, The Blue Rose; Drasis could have risen to their level; to be hailed as a champion by the crowds. Instead, he had been left to rot in a remote corner, just so he could nurse a failure. 

"You don't understand, boy." Their leader interjected; the tone of his voice was different from the usual detachment that distinguished him. "It wasn't you that your brother hated."

"Who, then? Our parents, for abandoning us so early? Or the townspeople, who never helped us, merely exploited us as cheap labor?"

"Himself. Both of you are more similar than you could admit."

The air became so heavy that it would have been possible to cut it with a knife. The other two members of the group tried to look away carelessly, although judging by their expressions it was evident that they shared Veroro's words.

"What do you mean?"

"Do you think he didn't see you as unhappy? Do you really think your brother is stupid enough not to notice what you were feeling? Come to your senses, boy. He had vowed to protect you, to turn you into a splendid adult. Instead, day after day, he saw you growing more demoralized and insecure. And who could he blame but himself?"

"I..."

"You complain about your brother never speaking with an open heart, but have you ever tried to do the same?" Dodobebo scolded him.

"I..."

"You still have time, boy. If you hurry, you'll be able to reach E-Morte before the horde. I honestly thought it was none of my business, which is why I let it slide. But it seems clear to me that if you don't move fast, you'll regret it for the rest of your life."

"Come on, champ. Don't tell me you want to leave your dear little brother all alone, at the mercy of those stinking monsters?"

Ragan was now also urging him into action. Funny, to the outside eye it could almost have looked like they wanted to get rid of him. That they invited him to throw himself headlong into the jaws of the lion to be able to get rid of a cumbersome ballast.

And maybe it was true. Perhaps none of the three cared about his fate. But, call it idiocy or naivety, Talak wanted to trust someone else's words.

"I was wrong, right? I was so wrapped up in myself that I didn't realize what Drasis was feeling. I have to go. There's still time."

Gathering his equipment, Talak prepared to hit the road again. The rest of the Manticore Claw watched him proudly. When was the last time someone had looked at him like that? He knew the answer.

He could not afford hesitations; every moment was tyrannical. Every drop of his energy was needed to achieve his goal.

"Take this, you'll need it for the journey." Veroro handed him an ampoule containing a colored liquid.

"But it's that rare potion you always keep with you! I can't accept it."

"Nonsense, now you need it a lot more than it will ever be useful to me."

He never expected such a selfless gesture from an old adventurer like Veroro. Talak froze for a moment, moved by the unusualness of the gift.

"Thank you. I won't let your gift go to waste!"

"I hope so. And now go, before I kick you towards the city."

"Next time I expect you to buy us a drink, given the wise advice we've given you. I'd gladly go with you, but I care about the safety of my skin."

Ragan too began to encourage him, in his own way, as he sipped a mug of cider that had come out of who knows where.

"See that you come back alive. Both of you, do we understand each other? Also, take this. It’s not much, I know. But better than nothing, no?" Dodobebo handed him an enchanted amulet, capable of slightly enhancing physical abilities. Her parting gift for the successful completion of the mission.

"I'll come back; you'll see. I won't disappoint you."

Talak walked away, not looking back. The heart of the camp set up quickly began to disappear from his sight, while the stars of the sky regained brightness in his eyes.

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Dawn was about to begin its work as the first rays of the sun undertook their usual morning activities.

A flock of birds flew over the skies of the city of E-Morte, but these were not the usual breeds that usually approached the settlements of men, seeking charity and kindness to alleviate their hunger. No, it was a pack of  , lured by the delicious and inviting scent of death.

For death was coming, knocking hard at the city gates, ready to claim the coveted fruit of its harvest.

A host of hundreds and hundreds of undead, children of disaster and brothers of despair, lovers of ruin and companions of the end, advanced with a swift step toward the city walls.

Zombie flesh peeled off and splattered to the ground as the cadaverous remains of bodies moved to the rhythm of an infernal symphony. Unholy creatures, out of the depths of the underworld were crying out their insatiable hunger for pain and despair, with the hope that their future victims could fill their void with misery and afflictions.

Drasis lowered his gaze to that formless mass devoid of life. In a normal situation, one would have expected despondency and dejection, placed before a battle with unfavorable outcomes.

Yet he remained calm, impassive. He was at peace with himself as he had never been in recent years. Ready to die, he wondered if this was what a martyr felt before the gallows.

"You are so calm as to be almost inhuman. Tell me, is it because you have some secret weapon that could overturn our certain defeat?" Lieutenant Ordo asked him.

"I'll be honest with you, old chap. We are absolutely and incontrovertibly screwed!"

"That's good to hear!" His old friend answered him. "For a moment I almost feared we had a slim chance. Phew, you must never pull tricks like that on me again. I'm not the full-of-life youngster I used to be."

Drasis laughed from the bottom of his heart. "I am dismayed at this unfortunate misunderstanding. Next time I will take care not to play tricks on your tired ol' heart, old man."

"Yes, next time. Next time will certainly go better. Shall we begin?"

"After you."

"Men!" Ordo's voice gained an unexpected vigor, filled with charge and impetus. "I know what you are thinking. You're feeling that it's over, that we're doomed. And you know what? You are right. In all likelihood, you will not survive. I would be lying to you if I said that at the end of this day, we will be able to go home with all our body parts attached. Hell, probably not a single part of our being will remain intact."

The garrison soldiers looked around, baffled. Surely that was not the usual pep talk they had become accustomed to during their years of service. But they continued to listen, in absolute silence.

"But why did you stay here? Sense of duty? Perhaps. Love for the motherland? Let's not kid ourselves. No! You are here today, not for yourselves. Not for some silly personal fulfillment. But because you have something or someone to protect. You could have attempted to escape, to save yourselves. Yet, you did not. You erected yourselves as a barrier, in defense of your loved ones. To me, that makes you heroes. Now kick the bastards' asses back into the coffins they came from!"

A fighting spirit began to rise among the ranks of the remaining men and women. First shyly, as if it was embarrassing to come out into the open. Then louder and mightier, until screams of excitement soared through the sky in an anthem against despair and sorrow.

The undead amassed in front of the gate, futilely trying to break through the main gate. From their elevated position, the Kingdom soldiers shot magic-soaked arrows that fell with the force of an earthquake on the enemy lines.

Bones and rotten flesh began to fall to the ground, lifeless. The lucky star of victory seemed to be leaning in their favor, but Drasis knew it was only the beginning.

Frowning, he glimpsed the object of his concerns in the distance.

Shrouded in an aura coated with terror, a being as imposing as a palace and as wide as a cetacean was slowly making its way toward the city gates. Savoring every second, its pestilential breath wafted like cancer through the air. The amusement at seeing his fellow creatures being rejected by men evidently brought him to a state akin to excitement, judging by the fibrillation movements he showed.

"What the heck is that stuff?" Ordo exclaimed.

"It's not a Death Knight, nor is it a Death Cavalier. I can't recognize it. But I don't expect anything good." Drasis replied.

"He is grotesque. An obese creature. Where on earth did it come from?"

Where did that beast come from? Had they perhaps changed their strategy after the defeat at E-Naeurl?

"Do you have any idea what it might be, Ordo?"

His old friend had been completely paralyzed, unable to make the slightest movement. Oddly enough, he was not the only one who had become immobilized. The archers had stopped giving battle, dropping their bows to the ground.

"Could it be some kind of ability?" Drasis looked more carefully at the unknown creature, which was dangerously approaching the city gates.

Now that he could get a clearer picture of it, he found himself contemplating its irrational forms with disgust. More than two meters tall, its arms were as slender and thin as an infant's, were it not for the awkward length that brought them up to foot height.

The lower part of its body was grotesquely small; by no law of physics could those stubby, fat legs have moved with its upper body, which was obscenely wide.

The belly was so wide that it could have comfortably accommodated four or five grown men, but the most revolting detail was a seam starting from the navel to the lower part of the neck, on which rested a tiny, squashed potato-shaped, absent-looking head.

In another situation, one might have called that thing ridiculous or bizarre, but Drasis was well aware that behind those grotesque appearances lurked deadly dangers.

"It is not of this world. It is as if a nightmare had taken shape from the depths of madness just to mock men."

What was the best course of action? To throw oneself headlong into the midst of all those undead? The chances of survival were abysmally low. But if he had let them break through the gates, then it would have ended there anyway.

As he mulled, uncertain what to do, the creature, which he had renamed in his mind blud, stopped a few meters from the entrance.

"What does it do now?"

He had no time to be astonished that the being's slimy hands thrust their fingers into the sides of the seam, beginning to apply pressure to open it.

With a scream of pain, the belly was ripped open in two parts from which countless arms covered in primate-like fur began to emerge, the length of which was such that they were able to grasp the soldiers who remained stationary on the walls.

Six of them were dragged away, without having time to react, and led inside the stomach, which closed abruptly.

Excruciating screams mingled with the typical snap of a jaw biting into a piece of meat. It lasted a moment, and then stillness descended.

"Hey Ordo, move! Move, damn it! Your men are dying!"

Drasis tried to bring the longshoreman back to reality, shaking him with all the strength he had in his body.

"Eh, what...what's going on?"

Ordo began to awaken from his warmth as if until that moment he had been prey to a dream.

"We have to counterattack before..."

He did not have time to finish the sentence that another roar propagated nearby. This time from the belly of the blud came not hands but small evil creatures, a bizarre cross between a baboon and a lion, equipped with small bat-like wings.

"Mother of mercy! What's coming out now?"

There were six, the exact number of victims. That the monster had the power to transform its prey? Any loss of them, in that case, would have strengthened their ranks.

How strange, it was the typical situation in which everything seemed to go wrong. Yet, Drasis felt nothing. It would have been normal to be dejected, despairing, and cursing the gods for their carelessness and neglect.

"Does this mean accepting one's own mortality? A calmness that flows through my soul like water from a stream. It is invigorating."

Nevertheless, he would not let everything come to an end without a fight.

"Ordo, be careful!"

With a slash, he deflected the trajectory of a claw of one of those abominations that were preparing to take off his friend's head.

[Flow Acceleration].

Activating his martial art, he felt his body override the limits imposed by nature to momentarily cling to unparalleled speed. Like lightning, it sliced cleanly through one of the creature's arms. A pus-like substance splashed onto its armor, soiling it.

He was not distracted. Insensible to pain, his opponent had tried to encircle his neck with his remaining arm, but Drasis was not taken aback. Dispel Haze came between them, slicing cleanly through the beast's index finger.

Ordo meanwhile had regained his composure and with his spear stabbed the back of his enemy, who fell lifelessly to the ground.

“And this one is down, five more to go!”

Observing the situation of his comrades, Drasis realized that they were not in the rosiest of options.

The baron's guard had intervened to help the militia on the walls, managing to rebalance the confrontation, but the other soldiers were still too groggy to counterattack effectively against those demons.

And if that wasn't enough, the arms had resumed sneaking out of their hiding place, greedily grabbing other unfortunates.

"Lieutenant Ordo, Messer Drasis. The situation is critical!" He recognized that voice: it was Vodel, the boy he had been talking to just moments before.

A few splashes of blood were present on his right cheek, but otherwise, he seemed to be in good condition. This made Drasis unexpectedly relieved.

"We are too exposed here, maybe we should retreat," proposed Ordo.

"No, if we give them a chance to break through the defenses, then it will be over. Remember, we don't have to win. Just buy time."

"Easy to say."

Boom.

Thud. Something had landed on the walls.

Bits of rotten bone and flesh had been balled up and hurled violently toward them, missing them by a whisker.

The blud had decided to change targets; now his hands no longer grasped their soldiers but the undead themselves who had been waiting helplessly outside the city. Now, their leader had found a suitable way with which to make use of them.

"Watch out!"

The bullets multiplied. Devastating impacts struck their defenses bringing chaos and devastation to their formations. By now, less than half of the initial troops still remained able to fight.

"Sir Drasis, be careful!"

Before he had time to notice, Vodel had yanked him with a thrust to his right causing him to roll a few meters. Looking up Drasis saw his young friend, or at least what was left of him. His organs had scattered to the four sides decorating the surroundings like a macabre painting.

"I'm sorry, you didn't deserve this end." He would have liked to pray for his soul, but it was not the appropriate time. He tried to analyze the situation, and what he saw caused an icy chill down his spine.

The gate had been knocked down.

"There is no point in staying here anymore," Ordo shouted. "All men, fall back inside the city."

As one man, the soldiers tried again to rebuild a formation or something approaching it. But now that they no longer had an elevated point of advantage, the numerical difference had become too overwhelming.

"I'm going to lend a hand."

Drasis felt his sword summon the tremor of confrontation. Descending to the lower levels, he began to show off his skills. Taken individually, the skeletons could not withstand his blows, which painted perfect lines using their bodies as drawing boards.

A dozen zombies tried to overwhelm him with their numbers, but it proved utterly useless. His muscles quivered with excitement as the blood of battle awakened his senses. Again and again, he gave full play to all his skills, and for an infinitesimal fraction of a second, a small light of hope began to break through his soul, giving him the conviction that he could do it.

And then he saw it.

The blud had stood still, watching him with a mephitic grin. He seemed amused to see him trying so hard, unable to understand where his determination came from.

Now that they were only a few meters away, the creature's scent was even more pestilent. Drasis felt enveloped in a feeling of gruesomeness, the vomit beating on his throat to get out of his oral cavity.

A second became a century for his perception. Motionless, he waited for his opponent to make the first move, to insert at the moment plus his counter assault.

"Come on, show me what you can do."

By now he had grown accustomed to watching that monster perform his show of horrors, and seeing his belly open again, producing a guttural sound, was strangely comforting. At least he knew what to expect at this point.

He could see them. Four arms were directed toward his position, ready to grab him. He dodged the first one, which hit the ground with a fist, creating a crater in the ground. The second grazed his side, creeping across the armor plate. For a moment he thought he had lost his balance, but managed to hold firm.

[Twin slash-strike]

His arms for a moment multiplied, taking the motion of his body to extreme limits.

Dispel Haze collided with the remaining two arms, sparks flickered from the impact; Drasis tried to sink the tip of the blade into the flesh, but it was tough, tougher than he had ever imagined.

"That's how it ends, then?"

Dispel Haze had broken off, the top of the blade slipping to the ground as it tried to pierce the flesh of the fingers. Drasis accepted it.

He closed his eyes. The moment had arrived. Attached to his limbs, the remaining arms began to pull and tug. The muscles tore as the pain became unbearable. He didn't even have the strength to scream, his mind was going crazy as the rest of his body begged him to get it over with.

He saw everyone else being overwhelmed by the flood of lifelessness. Ordo, lay on the ground as undead beasts mangled what was left of his corpse.

How much time had they gained? Not much, but he begged the gods that it was enough.

Now he would be able to rest at last.

"Hey, why don't you pick on someone your size, you piece of shit. I'm right here."

That voice.

He couldn't have been that stupid.

The blud changed the object of his attention, dropping Drasis to the ground. His brother was there, like the biggest of idiots.

Had he decided to get himself killed?

The monster was not going to let him repeat it twice. He shifted his gaze to Takal, who in response began to... running.

He ran like the wind, while the other remained stunned. Incredible.

It strangely worked, though. The blud, bewildered by that display of cowardice, for a moment did not know what to do so confused was he. Those seconds of advantage allowed his brother to distance himself sufficiently from the creature, and arrive at the position where Drasis had been left inert.

"Why did you come back here?" He asked him after he got closer. "You should have let me die."

"And once again allow you to grab all the glory? No thanks."

"No, that's not why, please you must believe me."

"I know." Talak lifted him by the shoulders, helping him up. They began to run, seeking safety.

"It is you who must excuse me." The younger brother resumed. "I let my envy separate us, but I won't let it happen again!"

"Talak, I..."

"Don't say anything. We will have time to talk." Talak heartened him with a smile. How long had it been since he had seen his brother smile?

"Yes, of course."

They had no time to waste. They had gained a slight advantage, but the blud had returned to the charge, followed by a score of undead.

Would they make it to safety? Drasis was not sure, but he still had a few shreds of energy left. Perhaps he could have bought time.

"Leave me here and take cover. I will try to stall."

"I'm not going anywhere without you."

There was no better time to mend their relationship. And speaking of sewing, the patch had opened again regurgitating its evil limbs on them.

[Great acceleration] [Greater acceleration].

In unison, in perfect coordination, they activated their martial arts to increase their gait. In the blink of an eye, they covered dozens of meters, the sound of their footsteps a perfect rhythm.

But it was not enough.

In a moment, everything went dark. Had they been captured? Why hadn't they noticed anything? That until now the enemy had not given full rein to their swiftness. Had he toyed with them, only to savor their despair when the propitious moment came?

Questions and even more questions crowded into Drasis's mind, but only one was important.

"Where are you, Talak?" He tried to call out to him but realized that he could not make any sound.

His body was unable to move, and something slimy kept him chained. As his vision adjusted to the darkness he realized what the chains holding him were made of.

"Intestines?"

His eyes could now make out the shapes of that cage of skin and entrails. His legs twitched as he tried to free himself.

"Brother, where are you?" His breath had returned, but he struggled to get through to communicate.

He heard Talak's voice calling to him. It was faint, broken with weeping. But it was there.

"I am here Talak. Can you hear me?"

"Yes. I'm sorry, it was all my fault."

No, damn it. No. It couldn't end like this, not like this.

He could see it, even Talak was chained by those disgusting innards as he was.

"That's okay. It's okay, like this. We'll come out of this, you'll see."

He didn't believe what he was saying, but what else could he do?

"I want you to know that I love you, Drasis. That I've always loved you."

"I love you, too. Forgive me, forgive me for my idiocy."

A yellowish liquid began to pour out of cavities in the walls. At its contact, Drasis felt all parts of his body burning, his skin beginning to liquefy as his organs burned with pain.

He called out to Talak. No response.

He called again. No response.

He felt the life leave him as what remained of his consciousness was consumed.

He called again, one last time.

"Talak, Talak. Please forgive me."

No response.

"Please forgive me."

As the last of his strength left him, he heard oblivion calling to him. The dark oxen covered him as nothing more of this world remained out of him.

----------------------------------------

"This is your little brother! Greet him Drasis."

"I don't like him, Mom. He's so little, and why is he always crying?"

"He cries because he is alive, boy. When we come into this world, we are afraid of being abandoned, and so we do everything not to let others forget about us."

"Maybe it's like you say, Dad. But it would be much better if he kept quiet."

"Listen to me carefully, now you are the big brother. And you have a sacred duty, to protect him. It's not a one-way thing; when he grows up, he will help you too. Brothers support each other, that's what they do."

"I don't think I understand, Mom."

"Someday you will, Drasis. For now, just promise me that you will watch over him. Always. Do you promise me? And him?"

"I promise, mommy. And I promise you too, Talak."

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