It feels endless.

My lungs burned and my feet ached but I couldn't stop running.

The moment I do will be the death of me.

Blood and flesh squelched underneath my boots as I ran on top of the bodies that stretched on forever underneath a crimson sky dotted with black stars.

Men, women, children, young and old. All of their bodies were either mangled or in pieces. Every time I stumbled I found it hard to move.

The stench of rotting body parts and blood along with the unpleasant feeling of stepping on said body parts churned my stomach.

I would be puking my guts out if I weren't running non-stop.

And from what or whom I am running away? I don't know.

What I do know is that If I stop, things will get nasty.

And so I ran and ran, blood and bits of human splashing around me with each footfall. My legs begged me to stop but I dared not to.

A constant and unintelligible whispering surrounded me as I ran. It sounded alien and creepy as fuck.

It was deafening.

Suddenly I slipped and tumbled onto the piles of human remains. Soon I was covered in blood and guts.

Ugh. Disgusting.

Trying not to slip and get a mouthful of human parts, I got up and ran.

But I couldn't move and my skin crawled.

Something was grabbing my leg.

I glanced down and my soul almost jumped out of my body. A charred and gross-looking arm was holding my leg.

The smell of burnt flesh wafted into my nose as the one to whom this arm was attached emerged from the pile of human remains.

I swallowed my bile and looked at the face of my tormentor.

"Oh no. Not you.", I whimpered.

It was the Deathwalker I barbequed two days ago during my fifth battle against the daemons.

His non-existent lips parted and out came a single word.

"Why?"

That single word repeatedly drilled into my ears and the whispers became louder as more hands erupted from the floor of death and began to drag me down.

I struggled hard but it was no use. When I shake off one arm, two more take its place. I opened my mouth to scream only for a blackened hand to clamp over it.

Soon my entire body was covered by the hands of the dead and they dragged me down into the sea of bodies.

No matter how much I struggled, they kept an iron grip on me.

My stomach churned at the feeling of coming in contact with the blood and dead body parts.

I kept on struggling even when I sank to my chest. The putrid smell of the dead enveloped me and the whispers turned into maniacal laughter as if their speakers were enjoying my fall.

I fought against the pull with all my strength. I tore my arm free and stretched it to the crimson sky even as my head went below the bodies.

Blood and body parts flooded into my mouth, drowning me as the crimson sky disappeared under the bodies and utter darkness enveloped me.

I screamed and my eyes flew open as I sprang up on my bed.

I was drenched in sweat and my breathing was abnormally heavy.

I found myself in my room in the Shield. My panicked eyes fell on the snow gently falling against my window.

Burying my face into my trembling hands, I tried to calm down.

"Not again.", I muttered and bit my lips.

The nightmares are getting more frequent and worse.

It all started with me getting chased by a daemon holding a goose hammer.

Now I am running from an unknown assailant on a sea of dead and mutilated bodies.

My body shuddered when I remembered that horrible place and my stomach started to churn at the thought of all those rotting bodies.

The image of the charred Deathwalker entered my mind.

I sighed. Two days had passed since I killed my first wraith.

It was the first time I didn't pass out on the battlefield. That meant I couldn't see Eravon.

Damien took me to a spot where the battle was not that intense and the Scavengers took me to Althea when the battle was over.

After spending a day in Althea, I returned to my room and crashed onto my bed.

I yearned for a good sleep.

But my nightmares had other ideas.

I calmed myself down. I expected to have nightmares after my experiences here and was even ready for them.

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But they are just too vivid and diabolical.

I glanced at the window a second time. It is still night. The massive searchlights on top of the wall swept across the rugged terrain of the mountains, ever vigilant for any disturbances.

After all, Les Anciennes is a hostile environment.

I got up from my bed and washed my face, changed from my sweat-drenched clothes into my uniform minus the jacket.

I exited my room and went to the elevators.

Despite it being very late at night, Necropolis is still bustling with activity, especially Althea as the healers treat wounded Deathwalkers.

Fortunately, the daemons don't attack during the nighttime so a majority of Deathwalkers take full advantage of that to take a good rest from the horrors of the battlefield.

Others hang out and enjoy the many fun things available with their friends.

The elevator gave a pleasant chime as it stopped at the sixth floor and I stepped into the gym.

For the past three weeks, I would come to the training floors after experiencing nightmares.

I couldn't bring myself to fall asleep after experiencing all that horror. So instead of wasting time staring at the ceiling, I would be improving my strength.

It is a lot less busy than during the day, with only a handful of Deatwalkers working out and improving their skills.

There is also the added benefit of no one bothering me.

Like Felix said, I have a big target painted on my back.

Felix's and Damien's presence protected me from troublemakers and even when they were absent, I was able to hold my ground against the assholes.

And whenever things got physical I released my bloodlust to freeze them and make my escape.

So far I didn't get any serious injuries. Just a few bruises from the blows.

Hey. I suffered worse stuff.

I nodded to the other Deathwalkers in the gym and they nodded back to me. I've become familiar with them over the past three weeks since we use the gym late into the night.

They were quite friendly and even gave me some tips to improve my strength.

"Hello, Your Highness.", a burly young man wearing a tank top that showed off his magnificent muscles smiled warmly at me as he dropped the heavy chains he was exercising with.

His copper-toned skin glistened with sweat and his grey eyes sparkled as he addressed me in a deep regal voice.

He ran his hands through his glistening black hair and gave me a small bow.

I nodded with a smile, "Hello, Count Seastine, I see you have increased the size of your chains."

He chuckled as he towered over my small frame, "Please your Highness. I am no longer a Count. Just call me Aaron."

"And I am no longer a High Prince. Just call me Mordred.", I told him.

Aaron Seastine was a Count in the southern region of the Kingdom. The Seastines were on the path to becoming an Axial Family when tragedy struck.

An opposing family unleashed a devastating attack on his estate, destroying everything. The entire Seastine family got killed and Aaron barely escaped with his life.

With nothing left for him, he decided to become a Deathwalker, to become strong enough not to lose anything else in his life.

He didn't yearn for revenge but he does wish to punch the guy who ruined his life in the face.

At twenty-nine years of age, he is one of the oldest Deathwalkers and is one of the strongest in the Shield.

He was the one who devised a training plan for me and I have greatly benefited from it.

"So what's new?", he asked as he wiped off the sweat with a towel.

"I killed my first wraith.", I told him.

He gave me a worried look, "Are you alright? It must have been horrible for you."

I shook my head, "Don't worry. I'm managing."

Of course, I lied. I can't tell him about my nightmares. Sure, he is a friendly person but we're not that familiar with each other, unlike Felix.

"I would be lying if I said that things will get better but you must remain strong.", he placed his huge hand on my shoulder, almost making my knees buckle.

I chuckled, "I'll remember that."

He beamed at me, "That's the spirit! You going for the treadmill?"

I shudder at the mention of the treadmill, still scarred from my first experience with a treadmill and I have avoided using it.

Looks like it is time to face my past.

I nodded with a determined smile, "Yes I am."

"I wish you the best then!", Aaron patted my shoulder again, almost dislocating it, and walked to his heavy chains that probably weigh a ton.

"Ah yes!", he turned around, "I think I just saw the Fairy walk into the gym a few moments before your arrival."

"Just watch out for her. She is quite the character."

I frowned. The Fairy of Tenbris is here in the middle of the night? I didn't know she liked to train in the middle of the night.

Perhaps a new routine?

I don't know much about her except for her name, Iris Karsus.

She is quite the celebrity in Necropolis, being among the youngest Deathwalkers and the youngest vice-captain in the Shield's history.

I had only seen glimpses of her on the battlefield, decimating daemons left and right with her monstrous skills and Tenebris strand.

I heard she is about to become a master A rank.

Wow. She is on the same level as Gawain at such a young age. If Gawain and Morgan are geniuses, then Iris would be a genius among geniuses.

I also heard she is quite the odd one. I haven't heard how she is odd but every Deathwalker agrees that she is odd.

What a weird girl.

I soon reached a treadmill. Gingerly placing my feet on the belt I activated the machine and began to jog, careful not to touch the awakened mode button.

After jogging for a few minutes I increased the speed such that soon I was running.

I breathed steadily and found a rhythm.

A small smile appeared on my face as I ran on the treadmill. This is good.

That's when the whispering began. My blood ran cold as the familiar incoherent whispering surrounded me.

Suddenly I was not in the gym.

"Oh no. No no."

I found myself in my nightmare, running on the mutilated corpses of people, covered in blood.

My heart began to beat wildly as my running shoes squelched on the body parts.

It can't be. I woke up! Why am I seeing this?

Am I hallucinating?

Oh, Incarni! Am I already losing my mind?

I panicked and stretched out my hand in front of me. I grabbed something, something that felt like a tag.

The emergency stop key!

Desperately, I yanked it and the treadmill came to a sudden stop.

My nightmarish surroundings immediately vanished and I caught myself from slamming my face on the instrument panel of the treadmill.

I was panting and my body was trembling all over.

What the heck was that? Did my running on the treadmill trigger the memories of my nightmare?

Just as I was wondering about what just happened, I felt a presence beside me.

"Geez. What did the treadmill do to you for you to have nightmares?"

I turned my head and saw her looking at me with a curious expression.

Iris Karsus tilted her head and narrowed her eyes.

"You're Mordred Pendragon? Felix told me about you."