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The Black Rodus
The Broken Sword

The Broken Sword

May the gods forsaken me,

The sun is setting, and I am in my tent, never having had a home. Who would accept a monster like me? The Vacans? Or the Hajimas? None. My time is drawing near. I can sense it in the air. Sooner or later, they will find me, and the Black Rose will fall with me.

As I remove my clothes, the fabric clings to my scars of war, and the symbol of the Rodus etched into my flesh with searing steel. I grab the hot water I just boiled, intending to cleanse away the liters of bloodshed in the battle. Once done, I will reduce this tent to ashes, leaving no trace behind, as if I never existed—like a mere figment of imagination, a myth.

As I washed away the blood, the screams of agony and fear echoed in my ears. I remembered every face I had taken, men, mothers, children. It was my duty. Every time I felt remorse, I recalled The Founder's words: "A mere mortal will never grasp the true essence of death. Only you, The Sword, will understand when civilizations crumble to ashes beneath your feet." What does it even mean? He always speaks in riddles, as if unveiling mysteries. Claiming that only through death can life be reborn in this false world. Day by day, I realize that I fear no man but Him.

The day quickly faded as I noticed a glimmer of light in the distance, drawing near. I knew they had found me. They were aware. I had to eliminate them all, every single one. However, amidst my determination, I heard an ominous sound that I had never encountered before. Was it magic? What could it be? It resembled an explosion. It turned out to be a cannon. I had no way to evade it, and my legs became paralyzed. Seven horseback riders approached me, but they didn't appear to be natives. How had they discovered my location?

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

One of them approached me, wielding a knife, intent on taking my life. But before he could strike, I swiftly reached for my weapon and attempted to move with my hands. He missed his mark. Seizing the opportunity, I grabbed hold of his leg, swiftly severing it, and then swiftly moved to his throat. The others armed themselves with bows and began shooting at me. Despite being hit, I summoned every ounce of strength to rise, my legs rendered almost useless, and bellowed, "I will kill you all!" I hurled the weapon I held, piercing one of them right through the skull. With a knife in hand, taken from my initial kill, I started advancing towards the rest. However, at that moment, I heard it again—the dreadful sound—the explosion. I caught sight of it then, a metallic fragment hurtling towards me.

I was struck directly, rendering me immobile. Not only that, but I knew it was the end. Strangely, I couldn't feel any pain. Instead, I felt a sense of relief. And as my life neared its conclusion, the last face I beheld was not that of my assailants, but His. Even in my final moments, I could see the face of The Founder. Finally, I took my last breath.

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