God stood in silence, observing the corpses.
Lord Redfox observed the battlefield with a grimace, contemplating his brigade’s many losses during the battle of that very day. There were more men littered upon the ground than those who took refuge in their surplus of tents. Yet, it was, unfortunately, a common occurrence to see such devastation after the troops of the Neuss empire marched through their foes. Redfox often wondered how many knights remained by his side still, but it didn’t matter. There were more holy knights in the ranks of Neuss than in all of the Gomi Plains.
For once, though, he wasn’t worried by his losses as other thoughts took priority in his mind.
Lord Redfox stood on the hill that accommodated the army’s base of operations, a small plateau with enough foliage and cover to protect them from enemy magic, with enough distance away from the trees to avoid a storm of hellfire. Next to him upon this hill was his guest. Together, they observed the valley with apathy, viewing the once green and resplendent view covered in a swathe of bodies that covered the valley in red, brown, and silver as the evening glow of dusk bathed the valley of death. Neither of them expected a different result from that resistance. Still, the Lord had to delay the arrival of the enemy somehow, only so that his family would have the time to escape the capital.
Redfox turned to the being that stood beside him and spoke.
“You’d be amiss to think 100 men would never be able to win against 5000 men head-on,” he stated.
God turned towards him, a sardonic smile painted upon his face in a way that was sublime, unreal. Despite Redfox being formal with the deity, few men were able to see God and live to tell the tale. The fact that He was there meant that Sara had answered his prayers.
“Holy knights can move faster than the blink of an eye, Redfox.” said God as he turned his sights back to the battlefield, “No matter how many high knights you put in front of them, they’ll only be fit to nurture the valley’s regrowth with their bodies. How many holy knights does your brigade have?”
“We had three when the war started, but they died weeks ago when Crimsonlynx sent his elite unit,” replied Redfox, “sixty holy knights are probably more than what our nation has had in the past century. Yet, the Empire was capable of gathering those sixty as if it was nothing. It’s in times like these when I recall their size.”
God nodded as he looked away from Redfox’s face. Though he hid his expression, that didn’t stop the Lord from seeing the tips of his mouth curl up. The mortal couldn’t understand why God was happy.
“Very well, Redfox,” said God, “I’ll lend you my assistance for tonight.”
Redfox had to contain a sigh of relief, his body relaxing as hope finally let the man stand tall. If God lent his aid, his country still had a chance against Neuss. He desired for God to massacre them all, but he knew that would’ve been too much. For this, Redfox stayed silent. If he showed himself too demanding, God would change his mind and set his sights against his own army in recompense.
God turned towards him.
“Tell your soldiers to retreat; your enemies will not push forward for the next few days.”
“Are you sure?” Asked Redfox, “What if they decide to send another unit after us?”
“Are you questioning my ability?” God asked.
Redfox stayed silent and shook his head.
God smiled. It aimed to reassure Redfox, but the Lord found it a disturbing expression.
“Fear not, Redfox,” said God, “our goals happen to coincide, and I’ve never failed to disappoint in meeting them.”
Redfox felt a shiver. Their goals happened to coincide ‘for now.’ What would happen when he decided he had enough? Lord Redfox shrugged that thought off his mind — that was a case for the future, for it didn’t matter at the moment. What mattered was the safety of his people, with the only way he could secure it: making a pact with God.
“I have been satisfied with your work, Redfox,” God turned towards him, and the Lord briefly smiled at him. He knew that he could find him on the other side of the battlefield at any time, but he was on his side at that moment, and the Lord was satisfied with that.
Redfox turned back to the battlefield. The corpses in the field didn’t help his mood, but he was proud of his men who had given their lives thus far. If they hadn’t fought the way they had that day, God wouldn’t have deemed them worthy enough to come down to assist.
I will have to celebrate our victory when we return to the capital, he thought. A nice dinner with his wife and daughter in their house, passing some quality time together during however much time they had of peace…
Redfox froze as he observed a group of men walking through the battlefield. Their banner was painted in white and yellow, the banner of Neuss. The men were holy knights, and they were walking toward him. Redfox took a step back as one of the knights raised his head and gazed directly into the Lord’s eyes.
He was smiling.
Redfox looked away and immediately called for his second-in-command Whiteraven, but before he could give an order to retreat, God put a hand on his shoulder.
“They will not attack,” he said, “for they are just trying to instill fear upon you and your men… And I can see from your heart, that they’ve succeeded.”
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Redfox gulped, then looked back at the fifteen men that were slowly approaching them.
“If they get too close, they will burn far brighter than the light of day.”
Redfox nodded, then he turned towards Whiteraven and told him to go back to his tent. There was no reason to worry about the troops now; they could all rest for that night.
After all, God was on their side.
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Nirwos had heard of God.
The legends said that the deity showed up to balance the playing field out of his own self-interest. He wasn’t superstitious, but he feared the idea of his rumored power. Nirwos knew that God would not be on their side if he came, and that realization frightened him.
He was a holy knight of Neuss, and in addition to the fear of this God, he hadn’t gotten used to the idea of death.
Holy knights were supposed to be skilled elite soldiers who were able to kill scores of men without exertion. And yet there he was, in the middle of a battlefield trying his best not to puke on the corpses he was sent to scavenge for any equipment. He didn’t understand why the bodies needed looting. After all, whatever army they fought against, it was always going to be insignificant compared to their might.
He was the youngest in the unit, so therefore he was the page boy, the errand boy, and the scavenger. Whatever his superiors asked him of, he was forced to do it, including looting the dead enemy soldiers.
Nirwos looked up at sunset. The copper smell and now browning sea of the battlefield blended unfortunately well with the dying sun’s rays. He stayed still for a good while. The battle for that day had ended, but the enemy hadn’t retreated like Lord Crimsonlynx predicted they would. This meant that come tomorrow, and they’d have to repeat the carnage.
Why don’t they just surrender? They’ve no chance against us. The frustrated thoughts passed through Nirwos’ mind as he kept trudging through the valley.
The knight sighed and decided it was about time to go back. He had managed to find a few enchanted swords that his superior officers were going to enjoy, so hopefully, that would be enough not to send him back into the battlefield. Looking back, he gave a strangled chuckle —‘mass grave’ was a more fitting name for this hellhole.
The five pompous tents that accommodated the 100 men of his company stood a kilometer from No Man’s Land, a distance that they could walk in less than three minutes without issue. There weren’t any guards at the tents; a section of 15 men had left just before he had arrived to go and mock the enemy. The young knight thought it was childish, but he wouldn’t dare to say that aloud. He’d rather not let slip of his opinions on that; else, he’d be swimming in lakes of blood for some armor or another to complete an impossible task he’d have to do.
Nirwos approached the tent from which he could hear men happily celebrating yet another victory, the sounds of wooden and iron mugs thumping against the wood. As if celebrating something like that was necessary when the battle was all but finished. We’re not going to lose. We’re an elite squad of holy knights from the Empire of Neuss, and our enemies barely managed to muster an army of 10,000 men with spears. Victory was like breathing. He raised the flap of the tent and entered.
The conversation immediately stopped, everybody turned towards him.
“Hey,” he greeted the group.
Everyone quickly went back to their party, not even bothering to greet him. Ignoring their negligent breach of social cues, he moved to the back of the tent, where a small armory had been set up for the time being. He placed the few weapons he found in the rooster and then took off his armor. They didn’t need armor, for their Spirit was strong enough to resist the attacks of any weaker foe. Nirwos thought it was a waste of metal to make so many armors for holy knights, but they had to look presentable after all. Couldn’t have a bunch of rowdy soldiers throwing themselves into battle with shirts and pants, could they?
A tall man walked towards Nirwos. The man had blue hair and pointy ears, meaning he was half-elf and half-myghur. Both races were native to southern Neuss and the Gomi Plains, the land they were invading. If Nirows remembered correctly, his name was Jill, and he was a commander, two ranks above him.
“Oi, newbie,” said Jill, “got us anything good?”
“No, not really,” He nervously replied, “These guys can barely hold a sword up correctly. It’s already a surprise that there was anything enchanted in their ranks.”
“So you've got nothing?” Jill asked, his face unimpressed. “When the Marshal put you in our unit, I thought you’d be at least able to find something with those rumored fingers of yours-”
“I found a few swords with more than simple enchantments.” Nirwos meekly cut Jill off, “Most of them have enchantments related to longevity, but there’s a few with a poison ailment attached to their blade. They’re in the rooster.”
Jill stood in silence for a second, then he left the young man alone and went to check out the loot in the rooster.
Nirwos was tired, and he suspected his mates wouldn’t be going to sleep any soon, so he took a pillow and decided to sleep outside on the grass below the stars. If nothing else, as long as he ignored the downwind stench of decay, he’d have fresh air. As he left the tent, he saw the section that had left earlier coming back. Apparently, they had... picked up a corpse? Why on earth were they bringing it back to camp?
He quickly walked away from the tents, and when the voices of his unit had become background noise, he finally decided to lay down. He sighed in relief. I just want to go back home and continue studying. Why did the war have to happen now?
A scream interrupted his thoughts. It came from the tents, with the rowdy party that had been ablaze with activity suddenly becoming silent. Nothing moved, and nothing breathed.
Nirwos activated his Spirit.
It was instinctive. Ever since he could remember, he had a strong Spirit that would do what he wanted it to do. Did he want to be tougher? His Spirit would make him tougher. Did he want to be faster? His Spirit would make him faster. But he wasn’t looking to be either at that moment; he only needed to enhance his senses.
“How dare you!” Jill shouted, then he heard a thud. Whatever was going on, Nirwos found it impossible to move from where he was standing.
“You should be grateful for the honor,” said an unknown voice, a gruff tone that bespoke no quarter. It was the kind that made Nirwos still. “Praise be that you’ve had the honor of having been killed by myself in the flesh and that you could witness my entrance with a beating heart. Many haven’t had the highest honor.”
Then, the screams started. The young knight knew the legend, but he wouldn’t say he had ever believed it was true, yet he damn well wasn’t stupid either.
Thus, he moved. Instead of going towards his comrades to save, fear overtook his body as he turned around, his feet a blur. Using all of his Spirit, the energy coalescing throughout his body, he ran as far away as he physically could.
As the sunset across the horizon, the battlefield glowed in an ethereal light that lit the entirety of the valley. From the heavens themselves, God threw down his hammer of light before nothing remained.