Young soldiers often believed war to be a glorious endeavor. In a way, it could be. Defeating the forces of the Void had been one such case. It was as morally uncomplicated as war could be, and even then, Damien had seen his fair share of tragedy.
All wars, even those deemed most holy, eventually devolved into utilitarian calculus. Generals and kings would decide just how many men they could afford to lose and how many civilians would die with their every choice. It wasn’t their fault, at least not entirely. It was simply the way things were.
Having been at the Hero’s side for years, Damien learned there was a solution to the seemingly unending tide of blood and tears.
Absolute power had a way of simplifying complex situations. Most conflicts arise from blurred lines between power levels. If a country believed it could invade a weaker neighbor without repercussions, they are likely to do so. They would launch a larger expedition if they perceived the neighbor to be on a similar power scale. When confronted by a significantly stronger adversary, they would attempt to hunker down and present themselves as unappealing as possible.
But what happens when someone is so much stronger than you that even thinking of resisting seems foolish? When you can feel the immense power such a being wields on your skin and know, deep within, that every breath you take is because they allow it?
The answers to those questions were playing out before his eyes. The men of the 104th, one of the few Corps in southeastern Hetnia to have survived the Incursion almost unscathed, were throwing down their arms and begging for mercy.
“I yield! I yield!” A man screamed, his forehead bent to the ground.
A quick glance informed Damien that the soldier was fairly strong, belonging to the upper tier of the Second Blessing. However, it paled in comparison to the entity facing him.
Wreathed in a golden aura, Leonard Weiss, the Holy Hero, gazed down with kind eyes. Surprising many, he kneeled down and placed his gloved hands on the soldier’s shoulders, helping him up so they could look at each other eye to eye.
“My good man, do not be afraid. I can feel in your heart that you did not come here out of greed but because you believed the people of Alpar truly needed your help. I do not punish good men.” The Hero said, and his words spread through the nearby soldiers like wildfire.
More threw down their arms, begging for the same mercy. Damien knew very well that the majority of these people had come with the full intention of looting the town and helping themselves to the women. But the newly formed court was already too busy processing the slave owners of Alpar. Adding hundreds of soldiers would make their job impossible.
And we need the numbers. They can earn their forgiveness by working, which coincidentally is the same path they chose for themselves. He really thinks of everything.
The weeping man grabbed Leonard’s hands and thanked him again, swearing he would never forget the kindness showed to him.
Damien made a note to recruit this Matheus for his Temple Guard. Good men were hard to find these days, and those with a fighting talent were even rarer. It would be a pity if he got killed by an artillery strike the moment they reached Thelma’s walls. They had fodder for that if they ever needed it.
An angry shout rang through the battlefield as a massive man ran to their position, waving a huge axe over his head.
“Cowards!” he screamed. “Stand up and fight! Traitors!”
There was bound to be one like that. Some people are just too stubborn to accept their defeat, even if it’s all but inevitable.
With his senses, Damien had already noticed the defeat of the enemy commander and the subsequent collapse of the western lines. Sir Gerard and Sir Gareth had completed their duties without much trouble, enhanced as they were by the Hero’s spell.
Still, one last obstacle remained before the battle could be declared over. Soldiers on both sides made space for the large man, who closed the distance quickly.
At least he had the good sense to allow Matheus, who had just surrendered, time to leave. Damien gestured for the man to join him, and he did, albeit hesitantly.
“Observe carefully.” He said, and thankfully, the man obeyed.
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Leonard drew himself up. His face, unobstructed by a helmet, regarded the challenger impassively. Faint whips of power left his form, unable to be contained. He drew his sword and nodded, accepting the duel.
Surprisingly, the massive soldier gave him the same respect before grinning widely. “I’ve always wanted to fight you, Hero. I heard too many stories about your battles. Let’s see if you are as strong as they say.”
Leonard visibly sighed, but Damien knew him well enough to realize it was mostly an act. The Hero, despite his righteousness, truly enjoyed a good challenge. While no one on the battlefield today could pose a threat to him, save maybe for the Mistress of Shadows skulking about somewhere, he still liked straightforward enemies.
“Very well. I am Leonard Weiss, Grand Marshal of the Revolutionary Army. I accept your challenge.” The words, though not said at a high volume, were still heard by everyone. The few remaining fights halted as everyone turned to pay attention to the duel.
Most enemy soldiers had already broken, and a few had fled, but having a clear sign that the fighting was over like this would help round them up without a fuss. Having to kill them all would be a terrible waste.
It would also require a thorough cleansing of the area to prevent the undead. Well, the aftershocks of the Pillar of Light are still here, so they might not be able to manifest even after slaughter, but I don’t want to wake up with a smelly zombie breaking down my door. I wonder if he thought of this from the beginning or is just taking advantage of the situation.
Damien knew well that despite Leonard's easy-going attitude, he was anything but simple.
“I am Tusk, Berserk of the 104th!” The large man bellowed, bringing his axe to a ready position. He wielded the large weapon with a single hand while the remaining one was free. The almost invisible glow of a skill building up told Damien that the man was not as simple-minded as he appeared, despite having just challenged the Hero.
There was no formal start, but both combatants moved simultaneously. Tusk crossed the distance much more quickly than a man his size should, bringing his axe down in a brutal blow that would have broken any normal sword.
The Hero’s sword, however, didn’t budge. Made of Heavenly Steel harvested from a meteor, Dyeus, the sky blade, could not be defeated, even in the hands of a farmer. Wielded by the Hero, it was a surprise that the axe didn’t shatter on contact.
“If Tusk gets started, he won’t stop until he wins,” Matheus murmured anxiously.
Damien knew the soldier could feel the difference in power between the two fighters. Even Tusk himself had to know he couldn’t compete in raw might, but he probably hoped he could overwhelm the Hero with enough boldness.
Again, Tusk brought down his axe heavily, trying to push his opponent back. When that didn’t happen, he made to go for a third attack and instead shifted his left foot forward, launching a hand strike meant to break the Hero’s nose.
For the first time, Leonard moved.
Tusk’s meaty hand was caught in a deadly grip, and even from where he was, Damien heard the bones break under the pressure. Not letting go, Leonard tugged the Berserk toward him and rewarded him with a brutal kick, which sent Tusk flying away, spinning on the ground, until he came to a stop fifty feet away.
Dust and grass sent flying by the attack settled back down as the Hero marched forward, Dyeus pointed before him.
He reached Tusk just as the man drew the first ragged breath. It was a raspy thing, signifying his ribs had been broken and likely had punctured a lung.
Dyeus came to rest against the man’s neck. “Yield?”
A moment of silence followed as Tusk struggled to understand how he had lost so quickly before he managed to get a word out. “Yield.” He confirmed, and a cheer rose from the defenders.
Damien nodded to himself and turned around. His role as a healer would keep him occupied for the foreseeable future, but before that, he wanted to deliver his recruit to the Temple.
Behind him, Holy magic was used, and he knew Leonard had just healed his opponent. A devious smile stretched over his lips.
We’ll take everything and everyone Haylich can throw at us and make it ours.
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Large festivities were never Damien’s favorite thing, but they were something he had to learn to tolerate with his job. While Alpar usually only had relatively small festivals, Mellassoria, the kingdom's capital, had imposing ones that stretched for weeks. Over a million people celebrated Holy Days, and all Temple staff was required to participate, one way or another, as it was the moment most donations could be raked in.
That was true now as well. Alpar might still be a small town, but at the moment it served as the capital of the Revolution, and as such its festivals couldn’t be subdued.
“Legends will be told of this moment for centuries to come. The first victory of this war of liberation belongs to us, and we must ensure everyone knows it.” Damien explained to the five priests he had gathered.
Clean-up operations were finally coming to an end, and all who needed healing had received it, which meant it was time for more work. Where Sir Gareth had taken some men to sweep the Darkwood of fleeing soldiers, and Sir Gerard was given the task of organizing the new troops who had joined their cause after surrendering, Damien needed to ensure the one thing this revolution lacked, cultural support, could begin to be cultivated.
For the moment, everything was held together by the shared belief in the Hero and the knowledge that the Light thought their cause just.
The victory they achieved earlier in the day and the subsequent Blessings received by a few of the defenders had cemented it in the people’s minds. But those alone did not make a new identity for the country.
While Amelia Barks might be unrivaled when it came to subterfuge and subtle magics, Damien knew he was the best at manipulating the people. He was still a vicar by vocation, but his skills didn’t stop at wielding Holy magic. Persuasion, charisma, and many others were in his toolbox, and he would not hesitate to use them for the right cause.
“Do we need to concentrate on retelling specific things?” One of the priests asked.
image [https://i.postimg.cc/SR4jHJHF/persimmon0-zealous-young-priest-asks-for-mercy-for-a-hero-to-a-1cf8c39c-0afa-43c0-a58a-8f8fc491cc65.png]
“Make sure to emphasize that the Hero forgave those who were tricked by the nobles and welcomed them with open arms, but that to those who consciously decided to bring harm to his people, he showed no mercy,” Damien replied. It wasn’t the whole truth, but it was close enough for people to go with it. They all loved the thought they had been chosen. That the Revolution had started because of them.
This would incite that sentiment. It was just one of many threads he was weaving, but one Damien believed was worth investing in.
“Be generous with your healing. You’ll have a few days to recover before your skills will be needed again, and this is a good moment to show our dedication to the cause.”
Even should the main temple not come to reason, Damien would ensure the faith kept a central role in the upcoming administration.