Did he?

Maybe.

Facing all invaders alone could very well be the end of him if they feasted on his body, tearing him to shreds in spite of his ability to regen. However, could his mind withstand such relentless brutality forever? The events of tonight's gruesome war had stressed his mentality too much already, bringing him a dozen steps closer to madness.

Kaiser didn't want to be a hypocrite.

He had always claimed he wasn’t some selfless hero. He wasn’t a martyr or a savior looking for glory, but a selfish bastard that rather not care for others. Yet here he was, standing on the edge of death, ready to face an unstoppable tide alone for the sake of others.

It was reckless, stubborn, foolish—typical of him, perhaps—but not something he wanted to do.

He loathed the idea of standing against an unknown horde of invaders with nothing but his sword and resolve. Yet the truth was as stark as the bloodstained ground beneath him: He had to make a stand.

The remaining Hunters could run with all their battered bodies might, but they wouldn’t make it far, fighting was no better option. The invaders were swift predators, faster and more relentless than any human could hope to be with their four elongated limbs. Even the caravan that had fled hours ago might have a slim chance of outrunning them, but even that was uncertain. The beasts could catch them within the hour, tracking their lingering scents and tracing the road with far superior traveling speed. Only the special carriage meant for him—a cursed gift of priority due to his status as a Player—had any real hope of escaping. Running himself won't solve anything.

And so, here he was. Cursing his own decision.

In Kaiser's view, this was the only solution that gave anyone a chance at survival. It wasn’t noble or heroic—it was cold, calculated necessity. He would stay behind, one soldier holding the line against an unknown number of foes. Unyielding and undying, and that made him the only one who could do it, because others in his place would simply die once, therefore, failing to buy time.

Time for the others to flee. Time for the survivors to live.

Yet to make this work, he had to fight alone. The way he intended to fight—pushing himself to the limits of his immortal body—would be impossible with others at his side. Their presence would force him to split his attention, to think about protecting their mortal lives, and die because of his decision would only weaken his ability to fight effectively. Added, he would also be risking exposure of his immortality. Kai didn't like that.

Alone, he could disregard safety entirely, unleashing a level of offense that was as brutal as it was self-destructive. This was a battle meant for someone who could heal from wounds that would kill anyone else. Someone who could endure pain without faltering. Someone like him.

Furthermore, Kaiser owed a debt of saving a thousand people in exchange for continuously living for his selfishness, he paid some of that by now but not completely. Kaiser decided to pay everything tonight, and live to see tomorrow free of burden, guilt and regrets when he met them again... If he returned, which he undoubtedly will for death was beneath him.

But first, there was one final duty.

Kaiser turned to Garba's lifeless body. Brick had already built a crude pyre of branches and dried brush beneath the old swordmaster’s corpse before abandoning the task due to the sudden lack of time.

After picking up a flaming branch laying nearby, borrowing fire from the burning forest surrounding him. He stepped forward, his gaze lingering on Garba’s face—now pale and still, devoid of the sharp wit and sly humor that had defined him in life.

"You were a pain in the ass," Kaiser muttered with a dull smile. "But you were the best damn teacher I could’ve asked for."

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

Crouching down, he ignited his mentor's pyre-burial. Sparks caught the leaves, and soon the flames began to rise, crackling hungrily as they consumed the wood and cloth. He watched as the flame meant to honor the fallen, to release their spirit into the skies and scatter their ashes across the land they fought to protect rise.

Kai stayed there, motionless, as the fire roared to life. The heat touches his messy face, orange glow illuminating his feature, casting sharp shadows that made his expression unreadable. Sounds of the invaders screeching howls are drawing near, mixing with the cracks of fire.

Deeming all was said and done, he sighed.

"Guess I’m finishing this without you," he said softly, as if Garba could still hear him. His voice held no anger, only calm resolve.

"Don’t worry, old man. I’ll keep them safe. You can count on me. Just this once, I guess... I'll kinda be a hero."

He suddenly chuckled at himself.

"Funny how a coward like me, who will never risk my life for others becomes the bravest hero of all time."

In his case, there's no life at risk.

The fire climbed higher, engulfing Garba entirely. Embers danced into the dark sky, carried by the rising smoke onto the countless others from the burning woods.

He turned away. There was no time for mourning anymore.

From his belt, Kaiser retrieved the horn Brick had given him. He held it for a moment, feeling the weight of it in his hands. Then, raising it to his lips, he blew.

The sound was deep and mournful, letting out a deep, resonant call that echoed across the battlefield like a distant thunderclap. It was neither a cry for help nor a farewell but a declaration of challenge.

To those who dared heed his call.

Which... Was pure madness in his state.

The flames of the pyre flickered wildly, as if responding to the horn’s cry. Shadows danced across Kaiser’s battered form— His left arm was gone, nothing but a bloodied stump at his side. His body was littered with wounds, bruises hidden beneath the dried blood that caked his skin, visible exhaustion can be seen in his haggard eyes, his movements were crude, too, hinting at the dire damages within his body. He looked as though a single gust of wind might knock him over.

To any who saw him, this young man—mangled, bloodied, standing alone amidst a burning forest—didn’t seem like much of a threat.

Until...

The blood staining him began to flow backward, as if drawn by an unseen force. Slowly, the crimson tide snaked its way back to his body, seeping into his wounds like rivers returning to the sea.

The torn flesh of his injuries knit itself together, closing seamlessly. Bruises faded, vanishing as though they had never existed. Fractured bones realigned and hardened, the sharp pain of breaks dissolving into nothingness. Muscles, shredded and overtaxed, regenerated, taut and unyielding once more.

And then, most astonishing of all, the stump of his left arm began to reform.

A skeletal structure emerged first, pale and bare under the firelight, followed by layers of muscle and sinew weaving together like strands of rope. Skin wrapped around the growing limb, fresh and unblemished. Within moments, his arm was whole again, fingers curling experimentally as if they had never been lost.

In mere moments, his whole again. Under the flickering glow of the surrounding flames, Kaiser’s battered form had renewed.

Additionally, a wave of vitality coursed through him, washing away not only his wounds but the exhaustion that had weighed him down. His shoulders straightened, his breathing steadied, and his grip on reality sharpened like a blade honed for battle.

Kaiser flexed his fingers, his expression shifting from subtle surprise to something far more dangerous. A wide, toothy grin spread across his face.

"I knew it," he mumbled in a sinister tone.

It wasn’t the first time he felt his body repair itself. But until now, those moments had been chaotic, happening in the frenzy of battle when adrenaline clouded his mind, restlessly over active for surrounding dangers. He never truly stopped to consider the full extent of his regenerative abilities nor put it under meticulous observations.

Still, he had a suspension. Why did his body not develop bulking muscles? Why can't he improve the Dance of the Wind?

But now, with his mind grown used to the violence with clarity of calm. Kai suppresses his healing ability to confirm it, planning to find a crucial aspect after slaying the last invader and the situation settled down. However, things keep throwing him into things he can't ignore such as Garba's passing and his ridiculous arguments with Alfred. Only now did he get a moment to confirm the truth.

Which didn't disappoint him.

His immortality mechanisms are saving him from death by restoring him to the state he had been in the moment it was first activated — when he died for the first time. No matter how torn, ripped, crushed, or broken his body became, it would always revert to that original condition whenever he willed it.

This restoration wasn’t limited to major injuries. It included the micro-tears in his muscles—those tiny, accumulated strains that caused physical fatigue and made movement heavier over time. So... What if, he used it not for revival, but on something insignificant than death such as healing these micro injuries that made him physically spent?

Well, Kaiser could consciously trigger his immortality to address these minor tolls instead of waiting for death to reset him, then...

'Unlimited endurance. My physical exhaustion can vanish whenever I want.'

A slow, dangerous smile crept across his face, growing wider and wider.

To be blessed with the ability to revive himself, or perhaps potentially bring an old man back to his youth. But instead, using it on something as trivial as healing micro-tears resulted in straining muscles was utterly... Unthinkably idiotic. At the same time, ingenious!

Kai himself didn't know if his an idiot or a genius.

If they could, the invaders would be turning back from his call of challenge. For their supposed prey was not only an undying challenge; he was now an unexhaustable foe. A warrior who could fight endlessly, immune to both death and fatigue was just a ridiculous wall to cross paths with.

More so, because...

He stretched his freshly grown hand toward the burning tree where Windslayer had been embedded a considerable distance away. The blade trembled, then flew toward him, cutting through the smoke-filled air with a high-pitched whistle. It landed perfectly in his grip, the hilt fitting snugly in his palm like it belonged there, and will be from now on.

Slightly surprised by the unexpected ease in performing his mentor's trick with Windslayer, Kai gave his new sword a satisfied look and twirled the relic once, feeling its weight and balance that differed to any mundane blades he held before.

His grin widened, a spark of exhilaration igniting in his chest.

"Now that’s more like it."