Chapter 13: The Naked Disaster, and The God of War

Discourse #6

Magic, my guest, is a peculiar gift in which only a few people and other creatures of different races are born with. And if those gifted are lucky, they are born with a formidable magic capacity and versed in many elements, some which are even unexplored and never seen before.

All living beings, including the undead, and regardless of whether they have magic themselves, can see the threads of magic. But only the most experienced and gifted can hide their magic, unseen to normal people and lesser gifted mages.

A prime example of this would be the eldest of my clan Arkanan. Seeing such gifted beings, you could not help but affix the words “all-powerful” and “god-like” to them.

But sadly enough, my proficiency with magic was considerably lacking as a young dragon. It was only when I had reached over my full adulthood age, five years old, that I would be able to hide my magic to normal people.

It would have also helped me considerably when I was younger, but the past is the past; an irreversible done thing.

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Standing in the middle of one of the largest grassy plain I had ever seen in my human and dragon life, I thought upon the impossible task the eldest had given me. It was to kill all the humans in both the armies which were camped more than a league from each other.

Naked and bereft of any clothing except for the strap of the bastard sword I had put on, I made a few observations with my dragon eyes; I was sure that this did not counted as transforming into a dragon, so I was not hesitant to use such a method.

From my viewpoint, I could see that I was stuck between two opposing sides of human army camps too numerous to count. The reason why I was sure of this opposition between them was due to the two different banners proudly protruding from many of the camps and wavering from the light wind.

One banner on one of the larger tent from the army to my right side had a soft green color with the outline of a sword and shield crossed together. The other banner to my left side, whereas, had a plain, black banner with a filled-in white star.

Judging from the size of each camps, both sides probably had thousands of soldiers staying. The sword and shield army—I will call it that for now due to their banner—seemed to have more tents. Naturally, that most likely meant more soldiers, so I guessed that if a battle did occur, that army would have the advantage.

Still, numbers did not mean anything if the other side had quality. But for now, I would assume that the soldiers of both sides had the same quality and experience. For now, though, both sides seemed to be in a stalemate.

I would also have to play it carefully because there was no conceivable way I could kill every humans on both sides in this weak human-form. I would most likely become fatigued and useless after killing thousands of them, but it was not worth risking to test that guess.

The eldest also probably had a way of tracking me and I figured it was most likely from the hidden blood mark he had drawn on my stomach, so transforming into a dragon was out of question. I would also dare not risk his wrath.

I changed my eyes back to human eyes and the camps became smaller in the distance.

Satisfied with the cursory observations I made, I walked toward the right army camps with the white star banners; it was the side that had less tents. And if the worst scenario come into fruition, there would be less humans to kill.

After a long moment of walking in a normal human speed, I came within sight of one of the entrance way to the “white star camps.” A dozen soldiers that had been on guard duty at this side came toward to me on horses of black and brown hues. Those horses looked as if they were bred and born for war. They were huge brutes, almost half a size bigger than the normal ones. They were also probably not afraid of the sounds of battles, having been trained to be used to it. The horses also wore hard leather near their heads to for protection and flexibility.

Most of the soldiers riding toward me did not looked amused at the sight of a lone, strange young man walking toward their camps entirely naked. A few, about three of them, looked at me with mirth plainly shown on their faces.

When they came within five feet of me, the dozen soldiers stopped in a uniform group of three lines, their trained horses instantly obeying the tug on their reins.

The lead soldier came forward, a man of probably over thirty with a grizzled beard and a hard, cold look in his eyes that would brook no funny businesses. He was wearing a suit of steel armor emblazoned with a white star insignia on the middle of the breastplate like the rest of the soldiers, but only he had a red cloak fastened behind him.

His face was as bland as he was serious. His cold, grey eyes narrowed in suspicion at me as he assessed my naked body with the unusual bastard sword strapped behind me, looking for any signs of threats. “You are not welcome here, stranger. Pray tell me your name and your reason and hope that we will give you a merciful death.”

With a few of the soldiers giving me death stares, I quickly made a decision. “I am a wandering mercenary in search of battlefields and gold. I wish to be hired by this army. And if you would, give me some clothing out of the kindness of your heart after hiring me.”

A few of the younger, more inexperienced soldiers snickered among themselves hearing that, but they quickly shut their mouths when the lead soldier gave them a hard look.

“No. You are not trustworthy and I have never heard of you. We also do not need any useless mercenaries trailing along with us.” He took out a plain, longsword that looked as if it had seen better days from behind his back. “Leave or die now, stranger.”

I was unfazed by the threat to my life and was not the least bit deterred. I still needed more information before I could go around rampaging and killing every human in sight. It would also helped if I could take advantage of the probable enmity between these two human camps.  

“Wait! Is there no way I can join this army?” I said, trying to inflect my tone with a trustworthiness and a tinge of desperation, other than my usual indifference.

The leader sat atop his black war horse for a few seconds contemplating my words. Then he looked down at my nakedness and his face became set in stone. “No. Now die!” he barked, swinging down his longsword at my throat in a diagonal arc.

By then, I had already seen the attack coming and dodged it by retreating a few steps. It was in a speed that was about par with a trained human, just a little slower than Elisa Ballard, the female adventurer I had abandoned back in the chamber.

After all, I did not wanted to scare these soldiers away.

“Bastard,” he said. Then he growled at me. “Very well, you chose to do this the hard way.” He looked back toward one of his subordinate soldiers, but his trained eyes always kept me in the periphery, wary of me after seeing my speed. “Alucard! Time to show the skills you have always been bragging about.”

From the third line of the group, a tall, young soldier just barely passed his manhood, probably around eighteen or so, jumped off from his horse and landed in a neat fashion. He had hair the color of bright straws and blue eyes that was filled with optimism, and a peculiar face that was not quite far from handsome.  

If I had to guess, the soldier named Alucard had probably never taken a life before and was most likely a prodigy with the sword. Were I someone with normal emotions, I would have felt sorry for him. It was always a cruel thing to learn that there is always someone better than you, especially when you have been a unmatched prodigy. But I was not normal. Instead, I would feel nothing for him.

I looked at the lead soldier. I felt that he was a shrewd and cunning man. He had wanted the soldier named Alucard to gain some experience with his first kill on an unknown man before the probable battle with the enemies camped on the other side of the grassland, the “sword and shield” army. For most, it always weighed heavily on the mind with your first kill.

Alucard came walking toward me in an unhurried manner, confident of his skills, and a proud look on his face at being selected. His shiny, new longsword was already drawn, and held in his left hand. It seemed like he had either been trained to use both hands or his left was his dominant. He was also the only one dressed in a light steel chain-mail and brown leather-armored pants for speed and flexibility.

“I have never fought against a naked man before, but there is always a first time for everything,” he said.

The very air around him spoke of a young man dreaming of glories in a war, and impressing ladies and such. It was too bad the only ladies he was going to meet on the battlefield were the large, brawny women who joined the army and the occasional slim, bloodthirsty ones. The latter ones you had to be cautious around.

I had heard an amusing advice at a tavern from a grey and old veteran soldier when I was still a human boy in my previous life. The advice was to “Never stick your dick in crazy, especially blood crazy.”

The advice sounded plausible and oh-so-quite-logical to the thirteen year old me, but coming from an old soldier who was drunker than a gender-confused cat in heat, I was still a little curious about it.

Oh well, I thought, now was not the time to be contemplating the past.

As if sensing my unwariness, Alucard dashed forward and swung his sword in a half-defensive cut, not even an ounce of waste to his movements. His natural born prodigal instincts with the sword had told him to first test out my skills a little before a full frontal engage.

In a way, his instinct was right. Sadly, it was just a little right.

My bastard sword, christened “Reaver” by the blacksmith I had bought it from, was already held in my right hand. My arm instantly moved to block his weapon. Steel against steel clashed, mine far bigger and wider than his. It stopped his weapon cold.

With speed faster than his eyes could follow, I kneed him in the groin and before he could even groan in pain, I pushed him some paces away from me with my bastard sword. Then I slapped the flat side of my bastard sword at his whole left body and Alucard flew at least three feet and dropped to the ground like a puppet whose strings had been cut off.

Mind you, it was just a light hit. I did not wanted to kill any humans yet before I could even come up with a plan. He was probably just unconscious and not moving, or had all of his breath knocked out of him to even moan in pain. Or he was dead. Probably.

Although I already had precise control over my dragon strength, the constitution of each human was different from each other, and since he was supposedly a prodigy, I assumed that Alucard could handle a light beating.

The lead soldier gave a small gasp of surprise, while the other soldiers beside and behind him were clamoring with disbelief, which led me to guess that they themselves had known of Alucard's skills.

Perhaps I had overdone it a little, beating a prodigy in just a few seconds. Now I would probably be seen as too inhumane or they would ascribe my abnormal strength and speed to magic, not that I had used any magic.

“Impossible,” the lead soldier said. Then his face turned cold and he gave me a glare that spoke that I was going to die. “Surround him, men,” he ordered, jumping down from his horse to land on the grassy, earthen ground with a heavy thud. That thud was followed by ten more men jumping down with heavy, steel armor equipped.

Six of them slowly circled around me with their swords drawn and ready, while the other five, stood a small distance away from the leading six, ready to take up any opportunities.

I was in a very disadvantageous position, but it was of my own making. I had let these soldiers surround me since I was beginning to tire of their illogical antics. Could they not see that I was being sincere with my request for employment, however temporarily that sincerity was?

When they got withing range of Reaver, just about five feet away from me, I swung my weapon around in a circular fashion. Like a whirlwind of steel, my weapon slammed into the sides of all six of the leading soldiers and they flew backwards like thrown rag-dolls.

Two of the flying soldiers collided with the the other two of the five soldiers in the rear and went down in a heap.

Only three was left standing and they stood in shock, unable to comprehend what had just happened before their very eyes. Out of the three remaining, the most experienced and the oldest man among the dozen men, the grizzled lead soldier was the most shocked. Having been through many battles, he had for sure witness extraordinary feats and a few magic if he was lucky, but he had never witnessed such strength.

Before I gave them time to overcome their surprise, I sprinted toward the three remaining soldiers who were nearby to each other and slammed the flat of my weapon into the closest one to me. A young soldier with light brown hair and squat shoulders went flying and hit the ground, landing near the few downed men who were moaning in pain.

Most of them probably had a few broken ribs and dislocated shoulders as the impact from their breastplates against my bastard sword was not inconsiderable.

Then I slammed my weapon again into the next closest one. This time, a man with a full beard went flying and landed near a soldier. He had landed badly and his right arm looked a little crooked to me, probably broken by the fall.

I looked toward the only remaining standing opponent, the grizzled lead soldier, whose red cape behind him was fluttering a little from the light wind. He was in a daze and did not even realize it before the flat of my weapon slammed into the front of his steel breastplate.

He flew five feet, the farthest out of any of them. I had, after all, swung at him with more strength than I did toward the other soldiers.

There was now a visible dent on the front of his steel breastplate where the white star insignia was. All the breath had ran out of him in a short groan in midair and as soon as he landed with a hard thud, unconsciousness hit him.

I looked at my bastard sword and saw that a few drops of blood had splattered onto it. Had I hit them hard enough that they choked out blood?

I shrugged to myself, not caring much about the welfare of the soldiers and the blood on my weapon and sheathed it back. I looked down at the ground and saw the dozen sprawled and few unconscious bodies.

Then from behind me, I heard three, long and drawn-out slow claps.

Turning around, I found myself looking at an entourage of more than a hundred male soldiers with a woman leading in front. All of the male soldiers had on black steel armors, black capes, and in the middle front of their breastplate was a star insignia blazing white. And all of them looked like veterans of many battles, hard and alert looks on all their faces.

Those claps had come from the woman leading in front.

“Well, well, well. I have met many disasters such as storms and floods, but I have never met a naked disaster before,” the full-breasted leading woman said, her short blonde hair cut just below the back of her nape. She was viewing the spectacle of the dozen sprawled bodied behind me with a smile and amusement.

She was a tall, pretty, female, looked to be around her mid twenties, and was wearing a slim, black breastplate and slim, black steel pants that looked as if it had been custom made for her, so tightly bound to her body it was. It only helped emphasize the shape of her two large mounds and her curves more.

“You know what, stranger? I think I shall call you The Naked Disaster.” She gave a short smile but the hard look in her steel, grey eyes suggested no positivity. “And you can call me Princess Amara. I must thank you for not killing my men.”

I looked at the rare sight of a princess as I had never seen one before. I had also heard that princesses usually do not lead men to battle, this world being so patriarchal.

Bundled to the sides of her horses, I could see what looked to be coiled whips and other various, metallic items jutting out from the pouches. A strange woman with a strange demeanor and strange items for a supposed war camp.  

I also did not know it then, but The Naked Disaster would be the first nickname that Princess Amara would give me and the second nickname, The God of War. But the most popular one was the former first nickname.

I thought to myself with levity.

With the pace I had been meeting strange women, it was as if the whores of fate were telling me that I was destined to end up with a strange woman.  

Chapter 14: Camp Followers, Princess Amara, and Massacre on the Plains

Atop her raven black horse, Princess Amara motioned her hands toward the war camp before her as if trying to encompass it into her palms. They were calloused from years of training with weapons.

“Did you know, Verath, that I am the main commander of this fine army.” She had a proud, yet reminiscent look on her face as she said this.

“No, I did not. I was expecting you to be just a leader in command of a sub-division of this army. For example, those one hundred or so soldiers you had along with you when I first met you.”  

I was trying to be as hospitable as I could to the princess and commander of this army, whom my employment depended on. I could not be like my usual brusque and indifferent self, especially considering that I was walking around fully naked, trying to match her horse's pace as she escorted me around the camp.

She had made many short stops along the way to the center of the war camp, introducing me as The Naked Disaster to the various captains and heads of divisions. All of the introductions were awkward and short. After all, meeting a naked mercenary that wanted to be hired was certainly not an everyday occurrence.

“So who were those soldiers you were leading a while ago?” I was curious and had already formed many likely conjectures even though her contingent of more than a hundred soldiers had dispersed already, going back to their respective tents as she showed me around the war camp.

Princess Amara gave a small chuckle. “Oh yes, them. They are my personal guards, all of whom were selected by me personally. I have ordered them to get some rest and take care of their morale.”

The way she said morale left me no doubt as to what some of her men were doing—I had seen some “camp followers” around some of the tents. Bluntly put, a few of her men were with whores taking care of their “morale.”

Did I felt anything seeing women sell their bodies for a few silvers or perhaps even coppers? Some pity perhaps, but it was the way of the world. Bereaved women and girls orphaned by war have no choice but to do such a thing if they wanted to survive. They could also take up thieving, but that would only lead to arrest or to a chopped finger that would mark you as a thief for the rest of your life. Only a few would obtain jobs, marry new spouses, and be able take care of themselves without resorting to such things.

“By now, Verath, you must be thinking that I will hire you on as a mercenary, seeing that I am introducing you to so many of my various captains.” She turned her head a little to scrutinize my face on her horse, trying to gauge my reaction.

It was a futile attempt to see through my intentions. Her suspicions of me would neither be rewarded nor denied. I only had a blank, indifferent look on my face.

“You seem quite unaffected by everything, Verath.” She paused a little before continuing. “Even after I had brought out such a hateful topic as morale and even after I introduced you to so many of my captains.”

I neither confirmed nor denied her words, staying silent.

“You know, Verath, there are ways of making men talk, to make them sing like little birds in the morning,” Princess Amara said, her voice turning into a dangerous whisper. Once more, her eyes carefully scrutinized every part of my body.

Then she gave a loud laughter after seeing my still blank face, turning the heads of all the nearby soldiers present in the area. “But I have decided to trust you, Verath. I hope you do not betray that trust.” She gave a sadistic smile and licked her full lips in anticipation of the tortures she would inflict on me if I do chose to betray her.

Her horse which had stopped, once more, moved forward after she squeezed her legs near the sides of the horse and released a little tension on the reins.

I followed along beside her, matching the slow walk of her war horse. We continued on toward the center of the camp, but this time, no stops were made to introduce me. I also continued to receive curious glares, angry stares, and outright hatred.

When we finally arrived at the center, I saw a large, red pavilion and a few of her personal guards standing alert and ready near the entrance. The place was most likely where the strategic meetings took place, not that there was a battle going on.

Upon seeing Princess Amara arrival, the four men guarding the entrance to the pavilion bent a knee in a gesture of respect.

“Welcome back, Commander Amara, the Valkyrie of Gold,” the four men said in voices that bespoke of admiration and obedience.

Interesting, I thought. So the princess, no, the commander, was talented in war and leadership.  

The four “black guards” were completely oblivious of me, ignoring everything except their commander. They were unfazed by my nakedness and the heavy bastard sword behind my back, giving me only a second glance before returning their attentions toward their leader.

It seemed like they had an implicit trust in their commander, not even bothering to question a stranger such as I, especially one who was entirely naked.

“Would you be a dear and tie this horse up for me,” she said to youngest of the four men, an old veteran who was most likely past his thirties or in his late twenties.

“Of course, commander,” the youngest said.

With not even a backward glance, Amara went into the red pavilion, pushing aside the flap of the entrance. She, without a doubt, had expected me to follow her inside, so I gladly complied.  

Inside the tent were five men fiercely arguing with each other over a laid-out map of what seemed to be the grassland and other related areas. All five men stopped short and fell silent when they saw Princess Amara walk in.

Disdain, only halfheartedly hidden, was evident on four of the men's faces as they greeted Amara with just a simple acknowledgment of “Princess.” They had purposely avoided the word commander, so I could tell that only one of the five men was truly sincere.

He was a young man with a lovestruck look in his eyes. Seeing him, I supposed that love overcomes everything, even against the majority opinion of a woman leading a battle.

An intriguing emotion love is, I thought.

When the four men finally noticed me come inside to stand beside Princess Amara, their eyes narrowed in even more disdain, their hatred almost palpable to the sight. The sight of me only added more fuel to the already blazing fire.

“And who is that boy beside you, Princess,” one of the men said, spitting out the words “boy” and “princess” in disgust. “How dare you bring him into this meeting! He doesn't even have hair on his manhood for god's sake.”

I could see that the heavily mustached man with the fat paunch had gone too far. Amara's steel grey eyes blazed with anger and she shouted. “You go too far, Baron Dorn. It is I, not you, that is the commander of this army.” Her eyes narrowed even more with hot anger and her voice turned into a whisper that was barely heard. “Take care lest I whip you in front of all the men for insubordination.”

Baron Dorn went red with rage and was about to retort before he was interrupted.

“Every word of disrespect you say to me will earn you five lashes,” Amara calmly said, her anger already under control.

He had a look of disbelief on his round face which drooped down with a double chin. “I do not believe this shit! What came over the king's mind to make a woman lead us? Your achievements are nothing. It is only because the bitch queen has her claws in the king that you obtained this position.”

I could sense the raging river of anger inside Princess Amara who was trying to remain calm. I stepped away form her a few feet, not wanting to be near such a troublesome person. My caution was rewarded when the princess walked toward Baron Dorn and backhanded him with such force that the fat man's head hit the hard, wooden table in the center of the pavilion. He was instantly knocked unconscious from the impact.

Amara's voice turned into a cold and sharp whisper, almost enough to cut out a heart. “Just for insulting my mother, you will receive twenty lashes and an additional ten lashes for insulting your commander. Be grateful I was this lenient.”

The princess turned back around, looking toward the entrance before she shouted, “Guards, drag this man out of here and detain him until tomorrow morning for thirty lashes.”

Two of her personal guards just outside the entrance came running in, blank looks on their faces that showed no emotions. Both guards propped up each of Dorn's arms over their shoulders and dragged him out to the pavilion.

One of them whispered to the princess in a voice low enough so that only she would hear it before he went out of the pavilion. “There will be repercussions for this, commander. He's a bastard, aye, but he is a baron and I do not think he could take thirty lashes.”

Princess Amara just gave a small sigh. “It is the least he deserves. But you are right, old friend. I suppose fifteen lashes will suffice.”

The guard gave a barely imperceptible dip of his head to acknowledge that before going out of the pavilion.

All four men in the room, excluding me, looked shocked and aghast at what had just occurred. Even the lovestruck, young man no longer had stars in his eyes for the princess. Instead, he just looked a little shocked at her sudden violence.

“Very well, let us continue on with the meeting” Amara said, completely forgetting the fact that I was standing naked in the corner of the pavilion.

None of the four men in the room pointed out my presence to her, not daring to risk her wrath. Like the princess, they ignored my presence and treated me like the brownish fur carpet on the floor.

I suppose it was fitting, in a way, as I stood there in the corner like a naked statue, patiently waiting and listening in to their strategic meeting. There were many nuggets of important information I obtained once they were finished arguing.

1) The army camps and the soldiers I was among came from the kingdom of Sendarid whereas the other army camps across the grassland came from the kingdom of Laden. From the flow of the conversation, I judged that there was a long-ongoing rivalry between the two kingdoms that had been spanning for a dozen years or so and they displayed their enmity for each other by having one large battle every year at a randomly agreed place. This time though, the agreed place was to be a grassland bordering between the two kingdoms.

2) Was there a reason behind such a futile battle in which thousands of lives were wasted for a stupid rivalry between two kingdoms? Yes, the answer is greed and pride. Whichever kingdom wins the annual battle was paid a tithe of ten thousand gold coins and would be able to obtain a small territory from the loser kingdom. The loser was the army that retreated, conceded defeat, or was wiped out.

3) I had also learned that the Sendarid Kingdom had been losing for the past three years due to the fact that Laden Kingdom was generally wealthier and had a much higher human population and could spare more soldiers for the rivalry. Frequent monster attacks and raiding around and inside the Sendarid Kingdom's border had also decreased the number of soldiers available.

4) Another important point of interest was that this battle was going to take place in two days and both rival camps had been doing nothing for the past week except preparing for it. Both camps were almost eager to welcome the fight just to get over the preliminary nervousness and tension. This also meant that I had five days left if I did not count today to finish my second tribulation. The need not to be worried about time was thus satisfied.

5)  The most important information and the whole reason I was acting as a mercenary was to find out the numbers of both armies. Going from the conversation that was just held, it seemed like Laden Kingdom had deployed the maximum number of soldiers they could—ten thousand. The Sendarid Kingdom, however, had only deployed around seven thousand soldiers.

The other information I had obtained from the conversation was not very relevant, so I put them out of my mind, not even caring one jot about the agonies of ruling a territory and such and such.  

No viable plan in which I would be able to kill all seventeen thousand soldiers by myself came into mind, unless of course I transformed into my dragon form. But regretfully, it seemed I would just have to bide my time and wait for both armies to wipe each other out before killing the leftovers. It was not a very sound plan and many things could go wrong. Still, there was still two days left to figure out a better plan, before resorting to such an unpredictable plan.

When the strategic meeting was finished, the four men quickly hurried out of the pavilion, but not before giving me looks of hatred.

“My apologies for making you wait, Verath,” Amara said in an apologetic tone, though her face told a whole different story.

The most likely reason she had allowed me to listen in to such sensitive information was most likely to test if I was a spy from the other kingdom. She would probably have some of her personal guards tail me and report back to her any suspicious activities.

Princess Amara was a cunning woman and I would have to be wary of her lest she tried anything.

“No worries,” I said, trying to be polite, but my noninflected tone got in the way.

She nodded and went to the side of the room where there were three large chests and what was most likely her feathered bed. She opened up the middle chest and rummaged around a bit, her hands trying to dig up whatever she was trying to find. Then she tossed me a few sorely needed apparel. It was just in time too—I was beginning to tire of being naked. It only made me stood out more and my hair and eyes were already enough attractions without my unneeded nudity.

“I am a little bit taller than you, but these outerwear will fit you fine. And I do not have any undergarments unless you want a female's.”

“No, these are fine,” I replied.

I quickly dressed up while under the curious inspection of Princess Amara and in a short while, was fully clothed. I had on a long-sleeved black doublet, loose black breeches, and black boots. In all, I was fully clothed in black and would have made a perfect addition to a den of thieves.

“I, er,” she faltered a little bit. “I only have black clothing. Sorry.”

I could detect a little sheepishness in her voice, but I pretended not to notice. “So am I hired?”

“Yes and we will need to go over the terms of payment.”

I stopped her before she could make an offer. “Fifty gold coins will be enough and you will pay me the first half as a starting fee.” Yes, that sounded just about right, not very expensive, and not too cheap for a mercenary of my “skill.” Just right enough to also not make her more suspicious of me.

Princess Amara went back to her three chests and opened the right chest and took out twenty five plain gold coins and put it inside a coin purse; currency in the human world was the same for every kingdom because it made trade easier.

“I would also like to look around these camps if you would permit me, commander.” Perhaps it was just me observing wrongly, but I could see a bit of delight on her face hearing me call her commander.

“Oh yes, but first you should go to the makeshift shops the blacksmith camp followers has set up. They are unmistakable and are quite close by here. Ask for a man by the name of Berk and he will outfit you with the armor of one of my personal guards. If he doesn't comply, tell him that I will whip his ass senseless until it is so red, it becomes a ruby.”

Was the armor another chain with which Princess Amara would tie me up with for the worst case scenario in which I was a spy?

“One more thing before you leave, Verath. You can find some sleep at a place that raises morale and get some food. I need not say anymore as it is quite obvious what I am talking about. Also, try not to cause any troubles.”

Was there a hint of something behind her words? But I was not too sure so I put it out of my mind. It was best to not get involved with such a shrewd princess and commander.

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The black outfit of Commander Amara's personal guards felt light and durable, a great advantage over some of the heavier armors. I suppose only the best would be suitable for the elite, personal guards of the commander.

The blacksmith named Berk, a large, burly man with a reddish full beard that went down all the way to his chest, had some doubts about me at first before I told him what Amara had said about whipping his ass.

“Aye, that sounds just like her. It was most definitely the first princess of our Sendarid kingdom. She be a cruel and strong princess, that she is, but we love her nonetheless. Every one of us camp followers follow not for the money but because the princess has helped all of us, including the whores.”

The burly man shook his shaggy red-haired head, his great neck bulging with muscles. “Every one of us would give our lives for the princess. And if you dare cross her, mercenary, you will have us to deal with us, especially me.” The look in his eyes conveyed a protective and fierce stare, which could have only been born from a worship-like affection for the princess. His biceps, which were as big as my thighs, were flexed threateningly at me.

That was how my conversation with that blacksmith named Berk, a devoted camp follower of our commander, went before he gave me the outfit.

Interesting, I thought. So the commoners and the everyday soldiers loved the princess, but the nobles hated her. It was a thing to take note of and could come in handy in the future. It seemed like the princess had gathered up all sorts of camp followers from whores to cooks to blacksmiths to healers.

The next thing after I was dressed in the outfit of the princess's personal guard was to scrounge up something to eat. After asking directions from a few passerby soldiers who remarked excitedly that I was The Naked Disaster—the nickname had spread across the camp like a wildfire devouring a field of dry grass—I went to the food area of the camp.

When I arrived at the cooking area, there were lines of soldiers waiting to get their meals from the cooks who were mostly females. Heads turned to look toward me when I lined up and I could hear the few loud whispers that were uttered here and there about my nickname. It seemed like the soldiers of Sendarid had a tendency to gossip like fish mongers.

I was unaffected by the range of various looks I received and ignored everyone, including the few daring people that tried to strike up a conversation with me. I would even dare to say that my ability to ignore people had turned into a form of art and at the rate I was employing this art, I would soon perfect it.

When it came my turn at the line, the female cook behind the large, propped up table gave me a huge, bright smile and put an extra serving of meat inside my bowl of soup.

I nodded thanks at her and turned to leave. Some of the male soldiers nearby saw what the cook had done and protested.

“Hey, that is favoritism right there,” a skinny soldier that looked as if he had just passed adulthood shouted.

“Oh, shush you. Unlike your ugly mug, The Naked Disaster is better on me old eyes. Why, I think he should be called The Beautiful Disaster instead,” the female cook who had served me said

A few of the male soldiers made audible groans at this unfair treatment. “We are so telling Princess Amara about your favoritism!” The tones of their voices were lighthearted, not a bit serious about actually carrying out that threat. “And don't you already have a husband,” one soldier added.

I felt a little amused at the jovial atmosphere of this place, only two days left before the battle would start and the killings would begin. It was a shame that all of the soldiers here were going to die either by my hand or by the enemy camp.  

The food was some sort of soup with soft venison in it and tasted better than fine. I also dipped in some dry bread to clean out the remnants of the soup before returning the empty bowl. Then I proceeded to leave the area and continued to explore some more parts of these camps.

Night soon fell and campfires were lit. Near the center of the camp, where the princess's pavilion was located at, was a huge bonfire that lit a large part of the area. I could hear sounds of revelry coming from there as the princess told humorous stories to the many soldiers that had come to pay her their greetings and their respect. The Valkyrie of Gold, without a doubt, was beloved by all her soldiers. There were only a few exceptions to this, but one could not have everything.

I decided not to attend their revelry. Instead, I elected to get an hour of sleep, which was all that I required to replenish myself of fatigue and exhaustion, not that I was even anywhere near exhaustion.

I headed toward the place where Princess Amara told me to go should I ever need a place to sleep. This place, she had supposedly said, was for the purposes of lifting morale and was just a little distance away from the camp followers' main area. Yes, it was the place for the whores.

As soon as I came within distance, I could hear sounds of pleasure from nearby tents. It was an easy enough system, I suppose. The closed flaps of the tents indicated that they were occupied, (though you could tell from the noise already) whereas the opened tents indicated that the women were free and ready.

I walked toward one of the larger tents, giving a cursory glance at my surroundings, no longer intrigued by the settings of the war camps, having had my fill of looking around today. When I went inside the tent, I found myself face to face with a young woman who looked to be around twenty.

She had a slight smattering of freckles across her nose and her face looked pale and beautiful under the dim lighting of the lantern inside the tent.  Her long raven-black hair drooped down past her shoulders like a cascade of brilliant waterfalls. I could even see her small, rounded breasts that ended in faint, pink tips through the light, pink chemise she was wearing; it was the only clothing she wore.

I did not know what such a beautiful woman was doing here in a war camp working as a whore, but the most likely reason was that she had been soiled long before her time had past.

On the ground of the tent was also a light padding that acted as a small bed, just barely enough for two people to fit.

The young woman started to speak as soon as she saw me, but I did not give her a chance.

“I am just here to sleep,” I said, quickly removing the black armor outfit of the personal guard. Then I removed the upper half of my outerwear and went right to sleep, not caring that I was half-naked. It felt more comfortable to me as I was not used to wearing such a tight, long-sleeved doublet. And just before I went to sleep, I saw the look of confusion and surprise on her face.

Was it wise of me to fall asleep so quickly and leave myself vulnerable in the care of a stranger whom I did not know? You forget though that nothing short of enchanted steel could pierce through my human skin, which was akin to steel, but was still only half as tough as my dragon scales. Enough stabs from weapons would eventually pierce through my human skin, but I would be wide awake by then, so I had no worries.

When I opened my eyes again after an hour of rest, I found myself sleeping on the soft thighs of the young woman, who was down on both knees with her legs tucked behind her. I could feel a slight wetness on my face near my mouth and heard a sad humming of an unfamiliar song that spoke of the evils of this world.

The wetness on my face had come from the woman's small tears and they tasted salty with a hint of sourness. Seeing this sight before me, I felt a small, strange feeling inside me, which I could not name. Suffice to say, it just felt strange and I couldn't help but stand up and face her. Then I leaned forward toward her face and licked her tears.

It was a curious, involuntary action. A new emotion which I had never felt in my human life had surfaced in this dragon life. Only time would tell me what it was. But it could be that I had a penchant for the taste of a woman's tears or perhaps it was something else. I had also heard of many strange fetishes, but this took the whole cow.

I looked into her sad, soft brown eyes which were slightly wet from the recent tears. There was also surprise mixed in due to my actions. “Tell me your name,” I asked in a voice, which was a tad softer than my usual, indifferent tone.

“Illia.” she replied.

“I see.” I gave her only a short reply and turned around to leave the tent, but not before I gathered all of my clothing. And perhaps it was just my imagination, but I could sense a small longing as her eyes trailed my back.

I looked upward at the night sky and found the twin moons staring back. Not even looking back once at the tent I had stayed briefly at, I left the area for the whores. I hoped that the twenty five gold coins would serve her some good as I had no need of it.

Now, I thought to myself, what should I do for the rest of the night? Because come morning, I would need to attend the whipping of Baron Dorn. And it would be an amusing sight. Then the next day after that would be the start of the battle.

<><><><><>

The night was still young when I had left Illia's tent, and I spent it away observing all of the soldiers around the camps. From the positioning and the split between the tents, I could tell that the Sendarid army was most likely divided into divisions, each containing about a hundred soldiers that were led by two captains of equal standing.

During this whole time, I saw that I was being followed by two soldiers who tried to blend in with the others, following me from a comfortable distance. Were it any other man, these two shadows of mine would not have been seen through, their presences blending into the background.

It was only their bad luck that they were following me, a professional stalker who made skillful observations not out of uncomfortable admiration, but out of curiosity. I suppose it took one to know one.

I could have also taught them a lesson or two, such as one should never blend in among an unfamiliar group, especially when that group were soldiers, most of who had keener eyes than the untrained commoners.

Whenever my two followers tried to blend in from a small, but comfortable distance near a group of soldiers still walking about in the night, I could sense the slight change in atmosphere and the slight movements people always make seeing the unfamiliarity. These reactions were just made more prominent among soldiers, especially before a battle.

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And I had just the method to lose my two shadows. I walked toward near the edge of camp where the stretch of tents thinned out and proffered my back against a tree. Immediately closing my eyes, I pretended to sleep. Now, it would just be a waiting game that would be played between them and I.

I stayed in that position for a long while, time slowly passing by, almost akin to the pace of a crippled, old man. The night breeze felt cool and comfortable on my face, a pleasing sensation that reminded you of wild grasslands.

When I felt that enough time had passed for my two shadows to give up, I opened my eyes. Complete darkness met my sight, the only light coming from the few remnants of fire, which were quickly burning out. The pale light from the two moons were dim enough to be almost useless.

There was barely anyone left, all of the soldiers and camp followers already asleep inside their respective tents. Only the few stragglers who had gotten up for a quick piss or other “nightly things” were up.

There wasn't much to do, so I spent the rest of the night practicing some of my magic in silent secrecy and thinking upon the more than seventeen thousand lives I was going to eradicate, indirectly or directly.

When night had turned into the crack of dawn, I went back to my pretend sleep, trying to make sure that I was not the first one awake. I had formed a precarious plan to kill all the humans, but too many unknown factors still lingered. Careful balance would be needed for my success.

It was time. There was a spectacle I needed to attend and after that, meet with Princess Amara even though she had not explicitly stated a meeting; her eyes and her words had implied it.

<><><><><>

At the center of the war camp where the main pavilion was located at, I stood among the front row spectators. A few of Princess Amara's personal guards were mixed among the front row to maintain control in case discipline broke down.

Usually, a front row view to such a rare spectacle of the whipping of a noble, a baron even, would have undoubtedly been crowded. But I was given a wide berth by most soldiers, so I had a clear view and a comfortable personal space.

In front of me was a pillory with a fat man confined to it. The man was Baron Dorn and he was shackled two feet above to a wooden post, his hands and head inside the three holes at the top.

The baron's upper body was stripped entirely of all clothing, leaving only his meaty, naked back bared to the audience. His face was red with rage and incoherent screams along with threats were interspersed every now and then between his sentences.  

A guard read out to the crowd of soldiers gawking at the rare scene.“Your punishment, Baron Dorn, is fifteen lashes for disrespect and disobedience toward your commanding superior even after a warning was given. To amend this break down in discipline and to serve as a future warning for all, Commander Amara, the Valkyrie of Gold, shall personally carry out this punishment.”

Behind the baron's back, the princess had a look of cold discipline set into stone on her face, not one bit of emotion showing outwardly. But inwardly, however, I felt that she was most likely rampant with joy at the chance to pay back the disrespect toward her mother and herself.

In her hands, she held a long whip whose tip was fragmented into five parts. It was most likely a whip specially designed for military punishments, as I had never seen a multiple-sectioned whip before.

The guard, who was most likely in charge of punishments, gave a nod to Princess Amara to proceed. “First lash,” he shouted.

There was a crackling sound as the whip shot forth from the princess's hand and hit the baron with a resounding smack. The five red marks of line the whip had left on his back elicited a high pitch scream from Baron Dorn.

“You bitch, I am going to kill you for this!”

Princess Amara ignored the threat and waited for the second count.

“Second lash!” the guard continued.

The whip flew forward again in a snaking arc and hit the baron, the skin on his blubbery back splitting open, and fresh blood flowing downward in trickles. Another scream and the baron's face become a mask of pure hatred and resentment. It was a look of vengeance that vowed an outcome of death and bloodshed.

The flagellation continued on and on the tenth count, the fat baron had been reduced to crying, begging for the punishment to stop. His attitude had now circled around and he uttered everything he could to make the punishment stop.  His back was now red from the freshly flowing blood and the tips of the whip were soaked in blood.

Princess Amara, however, ignored the crying man tied to the stand. A mix of reactions were seen on the faces of spectators, some delighted at seeing the baron get what he deserved, themselves being victims of him, and others disgusted by the harsh punishments.

On the twelfth count, Baron Dorn's back was now an unrecognizable mass of wounds crisscrossing each other and his double chinned face had become livid and pale.

On the thirteenth lash, the baron fainted and delved into sweet unconscious where no pain would assault him.

All of her soldiers looked on in horror at the frightening mask of steel that was Princess Amara. The guard who shouted out each count looked afraid to continue, in fear of the baron dying from blood loss.

“Tch, get this fat bastard out of my face and detain him for the duration of the battle so that he will not entertain any bright ideas of vengeance.” Commander Amara said, her hands motioning toward her personal guards.

Her face turned to the crowd of onlooking soldiers. “All of you will now disperse and report back to your captains in preparation for the battle tomorrow.” Then her cold eyes singled me out from the crowd, which was relatively easy to do due to my strange appearance, and met my own green eyes. She had signaled me for a meeting. I was not feeling very hopeful for a nice and relaxed meeting.

<><><><><>

Once more inside the familiar pavilion of Princess Amara, I listened to her commands.

“Listen very well here, Verath. I will not detach you to any of my divisions as that will only lead to confusion and mismanagement. In addition, I have a feeling that you do not work well with others. Instead, you will act as a soldier under my personal command. You will be the shadowy dagger with which I will wield mercilessly to sow discord against the damn Laden army.” She paused, waiting for my affirmation, her look suggesting that she would accept nothing else but one answer.

“Of course, commander. My weapon shall be yours for the duration of this battle.” My words were not exactly lies, just half-truths. After all, my weapon would indeed be hers, just not in her hands, but lodged in her mortal wound.

“Very well, then. The main task I will have you do today will be to test the extent of your ability.” There was an expectant look on her beautiful face. “I am expecting to be enlightened, Verath, as I have a feeling you are not what you seem to be.”

I nodded and proceeded to follow her out of the pavilion even though she had not exactly specified what she wanted me to do.

<><><><><>

When the day was over, I had a new nickname—The God of War. It was flattering to say the least and not undeserved as I had challenged and beaten over a hundred soldiers of varying expertise. I became a little tired of keeping track after the first hundred soldiers and captains whom I had dueled and won in short time. It starts to become tedious and stale after the first dozen or two duels.

Princess Amara also gave up trying to find someone to beat me, leaving me standing there above my fallen opponent, but not before she left a few last words to tell me to meet her early next morning for the battle.

When night turned, I avoided the area for the whores and left quietly to spend time alone at an isolated place. It was time to get more practice with my magic, specially earth magic.

<><><><><>

Early next morning, I stood next to Princess Amara on her horse with my own horse of a soft brown color mixed with some black around the rear sides. She had a purposeful and confident look on her face as if victory was already within reach.

The wind was also calm on the day of this battle as if anticipating what was going to happen soon.

Off in the distance on the other side of the grassland, I could make out ten thousand soldiers lining up on their horses even with my human eyes. The Laben army looked fearsome with their extra three thousand soldiers, all of whom were most likely equipped with high-quality armors. Money could buy you anything in this greedy world, even a small kingdom.

On our humble side, we had seven thousand soldiers excluding the thousand and a half or so camp followers who would not be joining the battle. We were split into two forces with Commander Amara leading three thousand soldiers and the other four thousand soldiers led by one of her trusted subordinate general, an experienced female leader by the name of Seraph, who had not been there at the meeting.

General Seraph, a fearsome woman who was taller and more muscular than most men, would be the vanguard of our forces. Her height added to her black horse, which was by far a head taller than most horses, made her easy to spot. There were also short spikes along the edges of her armor and the middle had the large white star symbol blazing proudly.

The simple plan for the battle was for General Seraph to distract and take the brunt of their ten-thousand strong army, while Commander Amara would flank them on their left, trying to penetrate through to the enemy leaders. Then I was to be released like a mad dog onto their armies, biting at them on their heads.

My own plan for the battle, however, would be different. I would be walking on a thin line where I needed to balance both armies on a scale, giving neither a winning edge. Instead, I would have to force both armies to continue while thinking they could win, until every soldier was dead on the battlefield.

I realized that it was a hasty plan with many holes, but I had no choice but to do this to kill every human. Then it would be time to kill all the camp followers who would be waiting impatiently for the outcome of the battle; a dreary prospect which I did not find likable in the least. But it was either my life or about twenty thousand humans—the blood mark the eldest had drawn on my stomach had made sure of it.

Personally, I found my life more important than theirs but that was just my subjective opinion. I was sure the other twenty thousand would have a more opposite opinion on the topic of their deaths.

Looking around, I could feel the tense and nervous expressions on the faces of the masses of soldiers, all of whom I did not know nor cared about. Their faces were partly hidden by the opened helmets and their sheathed swords hung from easy to reach locations on their horses.

When the sun was finally at its highest position and Princess Amara judged it was time for the battle to begin, she motioned to her herald to proceed. The herald, a young male soldier equipped with light armor and a short sword, took out a large horn held in both hands and proceeded to blow into it.

The sound from the horn was heard all over the grassland, reaching easily toward the other army and five seconds later, another horn that came from the other army resounded across the plains.

This was the signal both armies had agreed upon to start the annual battle; this way, everything would be fair and there would be no ambushes. The battle would just depend on the numbers and qualities of soldiers mixed in with tactics from the commanders.

Princess Amara waited for a short moment, watching General Seraph ride out leading her four thousand strong army as the vanguard of our forces. Then Princess Amara kicked her horse into motion and cried out in a loud voice.

“Let us kill these motherless sons of bitches and show them that we will not wallow in defeat! For Sendarid Kingdom!” she shouted, raising both her sword and shield with the symbol of Sendarid decorated onto it.

The soldiers shouted the last part along with her and cheered in an attempt to get rid of their nervousness.

Our forces neared the other charging army who was already engaging General's Seraph heavy-duty army, which consisted of four thousand heavily-armored soldiers; these soldiers were the strongest and largest of the Sendarid army, specially chosen to take every attack head on and last a long while with their huge one-handed rectangular shields.

When our army flanked the left of the main battle, a rain of arrows which blotted out a part of the sky fell down upon us. The enemy army had been anticipating this flanking maneuver and had set aside a thousand archers on horses standing behind another thousand melee soldiers who were guarding their front. The enemy army, after all, had more than enough soldiers to spare for an attempt at hindering our maneuver.

Shields were raised, but a few unlucky dozen soldiers on our side died instantly as the arrows hit unprotected, vital parts. Thankfully, Amara had predicted the rain of arrows and had ordered her captains to spread out the soldiers a small distance apart from each other to avoid collisions with the dead.

Three arrows slammed into the black shield of the princess, who was riding alongside me, but none of it penetrated far enough for a hit with the way she had expertly blocked them. When a few of the arrows flew toward me, I drew out the bastard sword and deflected them all with the weapon. Not one of the arrows had enough piercing power to penetrate through and get stuck in my weapon, which was basically a thick slab of durable steel.

We were now a short distance away from the left flank where both the main armies of both kingdoms were engaging. The two thousand enemy soldiers, however, were blocking our way. We would first have to get rid of them so that we would not leave our backs exposed.

When we neared the two thousand soldiers, the enemy archers had all switched to their various melee weapons and charged at us along with their front soldiers.

Their simple tactic was to distract our three thousand soldiers long enough for their seven thousand strong main army to wipe out General Seraph's four thousand. Beside me, I saw the princess give me a commanding look and I nodded back in response.

It was time for her to get the first real task out of me and to milk out the measly amount of gold I had cost her for all it was worth. I kicked my top-notch horse to go faster and very soon, I was at the head of our army and Princess Amara a closed distance behind me.

In just a few seconds, I would meet the first line of charging enemy soldiers. Then a sleek steel-tipped arrow, too fast for my horse to dodge, flew toward me. I had to praise at that enemy archer's precision and his prodigal ability with the bow; it was almost impossible to hit  someone with such a precisely aimed arrow while riding a horse at breakneck speed.

The arrow instantly pierced through the head of my horse; I had felt no need to protect the head of my horse, thinking that such a thing would not occur. Anyways, even if the horse had been protected, the strength of that arrow would have pierced through the protection anyway.

I could have also blocked that arrow with my weapon, but I felt no need as I was going to abandon my horse anyway. It would have only dragged me down, literally and metaphorically, in fact. By the time my horse was falling down, I had already stood up on the back of my horse.

Then I jumped forward, leaving my dead horse to fall down by itself to the grassy ground, where it would feed its lifeblood to the grasses.

Even with the hefty weight of the light, black armor of the princess's personal guard, I shot forward and closed the stretch of ten feet to the first of the enemy soldier. When I was about to land on top of the enemy soldier's horse, I swung my bastard sword in a circular half-arc. Reaver, my bastard sword, slammed into two soldiers, blowing them away like a child throwing his small, unwanted toy away.

It started a chain of reaction consisting of several collisions and two dozen enemy soldiers became heavily injured or were trampled to death by the incoming horses behind them.

By then, the full brunt of our army had collided in a fierce clash against the enemy soldiers, some of whom were still recovering from the collisions. Metals sang while men and women died, screaming their last agonies, a few seconds before the lights in their eyes would forever be obliviated. Horses also screamed, they too dying along with their owners in a life they had never been given a choice to choose.

The air had a stench of shit, piss, and fear, which was made only worse by the all too frequent screams of men and the few women in their death-throes. They came from both sides of the armies.

I ignored all of it, only focusing on my immediate surroundings. I had decided that the advantage was not with the Sendarid army and thus would need to rectify this imbalance, tipping the scales of war back into balance. I would have to get rid of the two thousand enemy soldiers of Laben army.

Amidst the turmoil and close melee of the battle, I was like a large rock in a fast flowing stream. The water split around this rock, desperately trying to avoid this unmovable thing.

I jumped from horses to horses, slamming all enemy soldiers who got in my way. They would fall down like misshaped dolls. I also varied my attacks, slashing at the enemy soldiers, armor and all. A few of the armors, my weapon slashed through completely along with the soldier's body, but for the most part the humans just became crunched inside by their dented and mis-shapened armors, flying off to the direction my weapon had slashed.

Creating holes and havoc at the areas of the enemy army wherever I landed, the Sendarid army I was with soon made short work of the enemy.

Princess Amara was also quickly killing men with precisely aimed strikes at their vitals while a few of her personal, elite guards that were mixed in with the army flanked her sides, always protecting her.

With the combined efforts of these elites and Princess Amara, whose fighting raised the morale of the soldiers, the two thousand enemy army was soon destroyed. There were also dozens of fallen enemies who had not died groaning on the grass in pain. That had most likely been caused by the collisions I had made.

Observing the Sendarid army, I figured that Princess Amara had lost about five hundred of her soldiers, most of them probably the greener ones. The scales of war was now in good shape, six thousand and five hundred on our side and eight thousand Leban soldiers on the other side—that is if the main battle was in a stalemate and no losses had occurred.

I rode toward the princess on a stolen enemy horse and heard her ordering a division of a hundred soldiers to stay and kill the fallen enemies. There would be no mercy given to the enemy so long as she was commander, and I hoped it would remain that way. There would just be less work for me.

She turned toward me and gave me an impressed look. “Wow, you are certainly a person whom I would not want to make an enemy out of.” She gave me a look-over. “You do know, Verath, that you are covered in dirt and blood everywhere, right?”

I gave a shrug, not the least bit bothered by the dirt and blood. My black armor would have definitely made an impressive looking red armor.  

She turned to the two captains of the division she had chosen to leave behind for the clean-up.“Catch up as soon as possible to join the fight.” There was a grin on her face aimed at the two captains and me. “You should hurry up before this God of War and my elites kill them all.”

After saying that, Commander Amara turned toward the main battle and shouted, “Now, my good men, let us kill more of these bastards and win ourselves gold, and territory for the kingdom!”

In good spirits, all the men along with a few women soldiers mixed among them cheered.

Once more, Princess Amara rode to battle with me following beside her. She turned toward me and shouted against the noise of the battle and the stampeding horses. “You know what, Verath! I think I would like to keep you as my mistress!” She gave a short chuckle, quite audible since she was more than within hearing distance.

We arrived at the left flank of the main enemy body and I could observe that our main army was hard pressed and many men were already dying. General Seraph, however, was still going strong. She was like a mountain crushing everyone with what seemed to be the largest shield I had ever seen and a wicked weapon that ended in a curve.

Then she was drowned by the tide of enemy soldiers who had finally regained back their courage, confident of their numbers. Quantity over quality came into mind.

Our siege against the left side of the main enemy army started and the spear divisions of our army charged in, the sharp steel tips of their spears punching holes into horses and soldiers.

An enemy leader saw what was happening and quickly split apart his army to deal with the attack.

I will not get into all the details, but suffice to say I jumped right into the middle of the turmoil, finding and killing a few enemy captains and generals I could make out with my dragon sight.

After a long moment passed with the scales of war and balance in the foremost of my mind, the enemy army had been completely obliterated, not one of them left alive; their fallen survivors had also been cleaned up.

The Sendarid army was left with a thousand strong soldiers, most of them the more experienced soldiers and a few dozen which were the personal elite guards of Princess Amara. General Seraph was also nowhere to be seen, so I guessed that she had died when she had been drowned by the tide of enemy soldiers.

The grassland was now littered with the corpses of sixteen thousand soldiers and horses, various metal weapons, and their blood dyed the grasslands red. It was an interesting sight which I had never seen before and I gazed at it in curiosity.

Now, I thought, it was time for the final clean-up.

Without even a moment of warning given, I swung the head off of the soldier closest to me with a longsword I had picked off from a fallen body. Then I killed one more, and then another, and so on, until five Sendarid soldiers, one of them being Princess Amara's personal guard, were dead in just a few seconds.

Then the man who had taken notice of what was happening finally gave out a warning right before I lopped his head off. The head went rolling toward Princess Amara and stopped near her two booted feet, blood flowing down toward the boots.

She had a look of horror and pained betrayal on her face.

Needless to say, the thousand soldiers were no match for me. And though they were experienced and hard soldiers forged by the frequent battles and wars, every one of them looked surprised and their eyes glittered with anger. It also did not help that their beloved princess had been betrayed like this.

They fought till the last man and and two women. And after I had stabbed one woman through the heart and the other man through his right eye with the sword, there was only one woman remaining on the battlefield littered with the corpses of the soldiers of both armies. The woman was Princess Amara.

I had used this sharp longsword in place of my bastard sword as it would kill easier and would leave none remaining alive on the ground with broken bones.

And now this looted longsword was pointed at Princess Amara, commander of one of the finest Sendarid army, known as the Valkyrie of Gold, and the woman I had served under for three long days.

There was a small splatter of blood on her beautiful, tanned face and the structure of it fitted her short, blonde hair perfectly. But the look of deep hatred and anger in her steel, grey eyes made a sharp contrast.

“You monster,” she spatted out, stressing the syllables in the last word. Then her eyes went pleading. “At least spare the camp followers...they are not even soldiers.”

I gave her no response, only meeting her two grey eyes with my own pair of emerald eyes.

And just as I was about to swing the longsword in my hand at her vitals, I felt my gift for danger alerting me of something uncomfortable, not quite far off from the danger I had sensed from the lich, perhaps a few notches weaker, but not more than that.

Chapter 15: The End of the Second Tribulation

I looked behind me and I could see a man nearing his middle ages walking toward me, deftly avoiding the fallen corpses and looking at them with undisguised revulsion. He was, at the very least, forty years old and had a long beard that had peppered from age. A few grey hairs were also mixed in with his black hair. Beside him, there was a woman of similar age whose hair had turned almost entirely grey; she was calmly walking as if she was not on a battlefield filled with corpses.

“Stop! I am afraid I shall have to refrain you from killing her,” the old man said in a confident voice that could have only been obtained from years of ordering people around. He had pensive, brown eyes and his forehead had deep creases that only added character to his brooding face.

“Bah, don't listen to this senile old man. Go ahead and kill the princess. I could not care one jot about her. She is not even from my kingdom,” the old woman said in a cold voice. Her face was bland with only her aquiline nose being the most prominent feature other than her deep, blue eyes that spoke volumes of a deep-seated cynicism.

“What I care about, however,” the woman continued, “is the fact that you have ruined this annual war.”

At the periphery of my eyes, I saw Princess Amara tense her body as a look of recognition passed through her upon seeing the old man. She was most likely going to attack me while I was distracted, but the likelihood of that succeeding was zero, since I was keeping her in the corner of my eyes while facing the two old people.

Before she could even initiate her surprise attack, I had already dashed forward the short distance between us and knocked her unconscious with a carefully aimed strike at the back of her unprotected neck. She fell face forward, and hit the ground with the grass somewhat cushioning her fall, not by much though. It must have hurt.

I could not kill the princess just yet, not knowing the relationship between the two newcomers and her. But a few, small suspicions of who the two strangers were was already forming in my mind.

“You killed her, you bastard!” the old man shouted, firing off a yellow blast of magic at me. It traveled at a speed akin to that of an arrow fired from a bow.

I did not care to find out what his magic would do and countered with my own blast of black-colored magic. Both magic collided and canceled each other out into oblivion with a small explosion that was around three feet in perimeter. It made me think that it was fire magic he had cast..

The old man looked surprised only for a second before a look of determination quickly replaced it.

And just as he was about to prepare a larger amount of magic, the woman interrupted. “Now, now, you demented old man. Can't you see that the girl was only knocked unconscious. Seriously, just how did you get a job as the royal mage of Sendarid kingdom when you are this incompetent. I can't believe you are my rival mage.” She said this calmly in an attempt to placate the both of us, but it would have been far more effective had she not added the unveiled insult toward the man.

The old woman, most likely the royal mage of Laben kingdom, was the one to be most wary of out of the pair. She had not been surprised to see that I could use magic.

I was also lightly fatigued by the battles I had just been in and could sense that the two pair of human mages would be troublesome. I did not wish to invite more troubles onto myself, but I needed to kill the princess and her camp followers for my own survival.

Seventeen thousand had already died, so what was one or even a thousand and a half more? It would barely add to the count of deaths that had occurred today.

Still, I was in a small dilemma which could be easily solved by killing everyone here. But a fight with the two royal mages would best be avoided. After all, I was not too familiar with the prospect of magic whereas the two in front of me were relatively more experienced.

“We should not be so hasty in getting into a brawl. The stranger over there is an unknown factor, and judging from the battlefield, a very dangerous factor,” the old woman said cautiously. “He must, likewise, think the same of us.”

So, I thought, the woman mage was of the same mind as me. Interesting.

“Nonsense!” the old man interjected. “If you join with me, we will easily overtake this bastard who was trying to kill Princess Amara.”

The woman mage raised both her eyebrows at that. “Oh really? Do give me one proper reason why I should help you undertake such a task, when in fact, I should be thanking this kind stranger for making the outcome of the battle into a tie. Granted, he did interrupt our three year winning streak.” She gave a loud chuckle at that.

I gave the old woman a small nod at her implicit permission and gathered magic into the soles of my feet. I shot it forth toward the unconscious princess and the black-colored magic almost instantly summoned a four feet tall earthen spike, impaling the princess right through her heart, armor and all.

It was a cold reality; the princess would never know how she had died nor would she ever live to be queen of her kingdom.

Had she been conscious, I could have almost imagined her saying, “Heh, here is your other twenty five gold coins I promised to pay you...Verath. Take it with you to your grave, bastard.” The princess would then pause a while in contemplation and would softly say in a quiet voice, “I guess I will never become queen, huh...there were still so many things I wanted to do.”

That was most likely what she would have said, but now she was dead with a four feet spike impaled into her heart, her short blonde hair in a disarray and a mess of blood on her armor.

Never again would she smile, never again would she feel the sunlight on her soft brown skin, and never again would she command an army. The only thing I could say in sympathy for her was that she had died painlessly and quickly.

“You bastard, you've killed her! What am I going to tell the king now? That her daughter died by an unknown stranger? Fuck.” the old, male mage shouted in frustration. After a few more moments of frustrated screaming, the man finally became calm, his face etched in determination. “I've failed my mission to watch over her and have lost my honor. The least I can do is pay you back in full, stranger.”

Yellow magic suddenly gathered in his hands and he shot forth dozens and dozens of spheres the size of fists. They must have numbered into the hundreds and were so numerous that I could not even see the old mage behind the wall of spheres. Lined up into huge, long rows, the spheres instantly split apart into various directions and came curving back toward me.

The control the old mage had over his globes of magic impressed me, a feat which I could certainly not duplicate. Each sphere individually was also probably not very strong, judging from the density of the magic. The numbers, however, made up that shortcoming.

The old mage, however fine his control over magic was, would undoubtedly lose against me. The restriction to transform into a dragon, after all, did not apply to these two strangers.

Throwing the short sword held in my left hand at the mage halfheartedly, I quickly spread my black-colored magic to cover the entirety of my human body and turned it into transformation magic.

At the same time, hundreds of yellow magic spheres slammed into me and caused a huge explosion of fire that covered the entirety of my transformed dragon body, which was more than sixty feet tall.

It was a shame for the mage, but the explosion of fire magic only felt like pinpricks to me; he had not been lucky in investing elemental fire magic into those spheres, considering that I was nearly impervious to the element of fire as a dragon.

As soon as the explosion cleared, I saw the two mages staring at me with dumbfounded looks. They had not expected to see an enormous creature more than sixty feet tall in place of a human.

An agonizing flare of pain came bursting into me before even a second had passed. I could sense that it came from my underbelly and looked to see that the blood mark the eldest had given me emitting bright light. I could not help but roar in pain and wonder at this curiosity.

Why had the blood mark not acted up when I was fighting the lich in my true dragon form and only chose to do so at this moment? The most likely reason, I thought, was because of that orb I had picked up after defeating the lich inside the chamber. Perhaps that was when the eldest had put a restriction on me.

When the pain died down a moment later, I could suddenly sense a ridiculous amount of magic, so much so that it felt like a living thing. This red-colored magic appeared in front of me, in the space between the two old mages and I. An instant later, the mass of red magic disappeared and on the spot where it had disappeared, stood a small, young girl that looked to be around thirteen years old.

“Good evening, everyone,” the girl said, her voice soft and musical, but tinged with something inexplicable. She had fiery red hair that split into two long tails reaching toward her thin waist; they were tied by two black bands of jewelries. She turned her alluring, delicate face which looked as if it would shatter into pieces any moment, toward me. Then she gave me a chilling, rosy smile. “Especially you, Verath.”

Although I did not recognize this girl, I instantly knew that it was the eldest. All the signs pointed toward this fact and even if there were no signs, one could not explain the inexplicable ancient feeling one gets from seeing the eldest, as if you were in the presence of something overwhelmingly ancient.

The eldest had most likely teleported here since he had discovered that I had broken the restriction to not transform into a dragon. So, I thought, my suspicions about the blood mark was right. It could indeed tell my location and warn the eldest of anything that went against the second tribulation. It has also taken the eldest a bare moment to respond too.

Ignoring me to turn back to the two old mages, the little girl gave a small frown upon seeing them. “Hmm..I do not remember seeing mages here,” she said to herself. Immediately afterward, a look of decision came over her.

And with a slight wave of her left hand, along with a scant moment later, the two old mages instantly burst into fire, screaming for a short second before their existences were burned into ashes, which fell to the ground in neat piles.

Her back still turned toward me, the little girl inspected the battlefield and the aftermaths of the battle. She nodded in satisfaction with a pleased smile on her delicate, white face.

“I am quite delighted with your success, Verath and I will forgive you for breaking the restriction since I had not foreseen these two mages interfering. And here I was sure that you were going to fail the tribulation, especially against that lich. But before I should congratulate you on your passing the second tribulation, there are still some humans left to kill,” she said, looking off to the distance at an end of the grasslands where the Sendarid camp followers were staying.

“Hmmm...” The girl's twin, purple eyes were focused on the one corpse that was out of place on the battlefield. It was the body of Princss Amara, who had been impaled by the long, earthen spike that had jutted out from the ground through her heart. “Was this your doing,” she questioned.

I gave a small nod in response.

“So you have an affinity with earth magic too. Interesting.” She gave me an expectant look when she saw me standing there blankly. “Well, what are you waiting for, Vearth. Go and kill the rest of these lower creatures so we can get home already.

I had a small, uncomfortable feeling well up inside me and I stopped for a while to analyze it. Was it a feeling of hesitancy? A revulsion to refrain from killing unarmed innocents? Strange, I could not, for all my observation skills, figure this feeling out. But I knew that I had no qualms about killing humans. After all, they were not even from my race.

Still, it was a slimy and muddy feeling, as if I was slipping into an abyss. I felt...tainted. Yes, that was most likely it.

'They are nothing. Just kill them all.'

That was intriguing. Where had that thought stem from? Oh well, I thought, I would leave it alone for the moment. I had a pressing task to do.

“Being sentimental is such a pure weakness, dear Verath. But nonetheless, I am pleased that you have killed all the soldiers in both armies, so I shall grant you a little boon and kill those humans there for you.” A small, bloodthirsty smile was on the eldest's face, which looked out of countenance with the body he had transformed into.

Strange. Perhaps the eldest could tell that I appeared to be a little reluctant, despite my indifferent face.

Not even waiting a moment for me to voice out a response, the eldest flew up into the air until he was just a small figure up in the sky. I could already see the crackles of magic that flowed out from the figure, forming a huge, red globe of magic. Then the enormous red sphere started veering downward at an insane speed, much faster than a discharged arrow by an expert bowman.

It looked like one of those stars or rocks I had luckily been able to witness falling down when I had been a young human. And that fallen star was headed toward the camps where the Sendarid followers were staying at.

The red sphere of magic slammed into the ground and exploded outward in an explosion that was heard even from here, almost a league away. There was nothing those humans could have done. They had no time to escape too, for the explosion encompassed probably more than half a mile diameter.

In just under two dozen seconds, the eldest had annihilated more than a thousand humans and the entire camping grounds of the Sendarid army. The dead at the camping grounds must have envied those that died on the battlefield, because they, at least, would have bodies to be buried.

The eldest came hovering back down to the ground beside me at a leisurely speed, as if he had not just taken more than a thousand human lives, as if he had not just created a deep crater where nothing would live ever again for the foreseeable future.

“Well then, that is that,” the little girl said in a cheerful voice. “I shall come back to pick you up after you have used up your two days break, excluding today. Just pour some fire magic into that mark when you are done.” Her twin violet orbs looked into my own emerald eyes with a steadfast mirth. “Spend it wisely, dear.”

A swirl of red magic surrounded the eldest and just like that, the little girl winked out of existence as if she had never been there, the only hint that she had been here was that landmark at the Sendarid camps.

Summoning my black colored magic, I transformed back into a human and looked around at the multitude of corpses for suitable clothing, preferably ones that were not bloodied or cut.

It took me a while, but after sifting through eight corpses, I held a good amount of clothing that I could wear and other miscellaneous items once I arrived at a nearby town. There should at least be a small frontier town somewhere nearby because this grassland was at the border between the two kingdoms; Laben and Sendarid.

I decided to head west using the sun as my guide. Sprouting black, leathery dragon wings to a suitable size, which spanned more than eleven feet, I shot forth into the air with a burst, holding the looted clothing in both hands. It would not be good to make new holes in the back of my new clothing so I traveled entirely naked. I also decided I would not need weapons so I just left them on the battlefield with the pieces of the black armor I had torn apart during my transformation.

Thus, I left the grasslands bordering the two kingdoms without even a backward glance at the thousands of humans I killed. I had left without even giving a decent burial to Princess Amara, the one I had served under temporarily.

The dead was the dead, after all. Nothing would help unless they could reincarnate, which was impossible.

And I did not know it then, but this day of the annual battle between Laben and Sendarid kingdom would forevermore be known as a massacre executed by one lone man holding a bastard sword in one right hand. He would be known as the God of War, an inhumane, monstrous human who would be cursed and loathed by the humans of both kingdoms.

But not by all the humans of both kingdoms, for this “God of War” would be secretly worshiped as a figure of love and admiration by secret, dark cultists.

Don't ask me how this tall tale spread. Even I have no clue, because on that day of the battle, I figured there was no one left alive to disseminate any information.

I guess dead men do talk, after all, though they had gotten most parts of what truly had happened wrong.

<><><><><>

After a day of flying naked and eating the raw and uncooked meat of a few beasts in the forests along the way, I had finally seen signs of a town. As I observed the dwelling from a far distance away, I saw that the town had tall wooden walls that surrounded its perimeter. This made me think that perhaps the town came under attack frequently.

And the signs of repair and battles only cemented that thought. In addition, the location of the frontier town, which was at the edges of Laben Kingdom certainly did not help its safety.

I quickly dressed myself in the clothing I had looted and was now in a plain, light green tunic with long sleeves and plain, brown leather pants and boots. I was also wearing undergarments, which I had furiously washed along the way in a river with the other clothing, until I was sure that they were clean.

Wingless and entirely human for the most parts, I went onto the traveled earthen path and headed towards town in a leisurely and slow fashion. I looked ahead with thoughts of taking a nice bath or perhaps even sleep on a bed.

They were luxuries which I could go without, but these little things were worth little pleasures, which was saying a lot in my case. I had also looted more than a hundred gold coins, which were now safely tucked inside my tunic in three fat purses.

I had two days left to make the most out of my break before the second tribulation ended. I wasn't sure of what would happen next since one could never rely on the eldest for a safe, normal routine day. Surprises lay ahead in my future like booby traps, and I was indeed very right about them and almost wished I had been wrong about it in the past.

End of Volume 1 (Chapter 16-18)