Travelers regularly passed by Martel and company as they moved towards the front line. No one wanted to be present if Carlisle broke through the frontline. Duran sent regular correspondences after he reached the front lines two days ahead of them about the enemy to keep Martel informed. They seemed to have gathered on the Camelotian side of the river but did not engage against Camelotian forces until the morning several hours before Martel and company arrived.
“What’s the situation?” Martel asked Duran as he entered a sideless tent.
“Not good I’m afraid,” Duran replied with evident fatigue and stress. “We’re currently in the second skirmish, and things are not looking good. We’re outnumbered, our five to their ten thousand, with more on the way. Our reinforcements are easily over a week out, and the rolling plains make it difficult to get an accurate grasp of the battlefield.”
“What are our chances?”
“Assuming you can take on an entire battalion, not zero, but close to it. Our left flank has an admirable commander. Thanks to the trees, he has archers stationed halt the advance of the left flank. However, the center and right flank are out in the open. I’m not sure that they are going to last.”
“Understood, I will join the battle as I see fit in the middle and right flank.”
“I’m counting on you.”
“Report.” A soldier says as he entered the tent.
“Go ahead,” Duran replied.
“Freed has appeared on the right flank, but they are managing to hold out. However, the center is probably soon to collapse, which will isolate the right flank. The commander recommends you retreat for your safety.”
“I under-” is all Duran managed to say before everyone froze.
With a Ki Pressure that startled even Martel, Grandma got up and began to walk out of the tent. “I’ve got the right flank,” She said coldly.
“I’ve got the center,” Martel replied.
Duran cocked an eyebrow. “You aren’t going after Freed?”
Martel shook his head. “The center needs support else the right flank will soon follow. While I wouldn’t mind taking care of him, I know Freyja would want me to prioritize saving more lives.
Durn nodded but couldn’t hide a small trace of disappointment.
“Is there a tent I can borrow?” Martel continued.
Duran pointed to a tent nearby, which Martel entered into with the black case. *Bang* with a force that slightly deformed the case that was made to survive explosions, Martel punched out his fury. He wanted Freed dead; he wanted him to pay. He had always been a philosophical person; one who tightly adhered to his morals and beliefs. It wasn’t Freed that he was most angry at; he was angry at himself.
Part of him wanted nothing more than a killing spree to vent his frustration; part of him wanted nothing more than to kill Freed personally, and that part, nay, that impulse scared him. He was only able to calm himself when he thought of Freyja. He remembered the conversations he had with her about his convictions and beliefs that served as a reminder to him. When she understood; when she didn’t; when she agreed. He knew what she would want him to do.
She wouldn’t want him to kill, especially innocents; she wouldn’t want him to seek revenge; she would want him to seek true justice. Martel killing Freed would not fulfill her desires, but only cause her disapproval. Freed would pay, but not by his hand. He had something more important to do; what Freyja would want him to do.
As he calmed his willed emotions, he couldn’t help but be a bit grateful to the situation and Grandma. She had immediately called the right flank to encourage him to take the center. This was the right decision to make as only Martel could preserve the center.
Grandma was a mage and, while they could have terrible destructive power, they also couldn’t fight in battles of attrition. If Grandma took the center, she would eventually get overwhelmed. That wasn’t to say that Martel wouldn’t either, but he could also fight with Ki and would be a more efficient intimidate and rallier.
Of course, Grandma also wanted to kill Freed. She blamed herself for allowing the incident to happen. In her decision to abandon worldly affairs, she didn’t notice that rats had entered her home. Unlike Martel, she had no qualms about killing Freed. Two rolls needed to be filled, and the two of them would fulfill the roles that fit them best.
Martel opened the case, and the contents appeared before him. He was about to do something reckless. He was going to take a gamble. If successful, not only would the center be saved, but the war could end. If unsuccessful, he might find himself unable to retreat.
After he had donned the case’s contents, he put on a full-body coat to hide his new apparel and made his way back to the commander’s tent. “Duran, I need a favor.”
“Name it,” Duran replied as he continued to scan the battle. I need Shiro to go to the left flank as stealthily as possible. She is to move around as stealthily as possible and release her Ki occasionally. I also need you to inform the commanders and their soldiers to shout out that I am present in the battle.”
“So you want to use Shiro to give an illusion that you are in the left flank? Why?” Duran asked as he finally looked towards him. He couldn’t help but notice that Martel was dressed differently, but his expression was better.
“The ‘hero’ won’t be appearing in the center. Will you do it?”
“You are trying to create another powerful deterrent persona?” Duran asked as he was quick-witted.
Martel nodded.
“That isn’t a bad idea. I’ll do it immediately.”
“Shiro better not have a hair harmed.”
“The left flank is perfect for her. There are plenty of places for her to hide. I don’t want the girls to participate either.”
“Good, and she better not get into a situation which requires her to kill,” Martel said as he exited the tent.
“I’ll see to it… Martel, come back alive.”
Martel only waved in response before he disappeared in a blur.
...
At the center of the battle was the commander of Carlisle’s 23rd Infantry Regiment. He was friends with the general who led the battle and one of the few commanders who was genuinely respected by those he led. His strength, which he actively displayed in battle gave those whom he led much pride. After he had slain a Camelotian soldier, he looked ahead just in time to see the Camelotian signal.
“Retreat! Retreat!” the Camelotian soldiers yelled.
“On me, on me.” The commander shouted to gather his men around him. The commander was no fool. To rush against a retreating enemy could be very dangerous and, with Carlisle’s numbers, unnecessary. He waited until enough of his soldiers were gathered before he prepared to signal the advance.
However, just before he gave the order, he stopped. For the first time in his life, he experienced something new. A Ki Pressure so heavy it was as if the ocean crashed down on top of him. Because he was a veteran fighter, he had come to be quite proficient in the art of Ki. However, nothing he’d ever experienced could prepare him for this.
As the Camelotian soldiers retreated, they began to part in a specific area to give a single figure wide birth before they began to regroup a short distance behind him. The appearance of this figure struck fear in the commander’s heart.
The figure walked through the battlefield calmly as if unphased by all. He wore a strange armor, not of steel or metal, and was completely black. The only part of it that shone was the part of the helmet which was completely smooth. He was an unholy and surreal figure, a Black Knight.
From this figure, a Ki Flame easily eight times the size of an average person, was emitted. The Ki felt cold; No bloodlust, only killing intent. As the figure walked with clenched fists, another unholy phenomenon occurred. Black flames came from Camelot’s and Carlisle’s soliders and gathered within the figure’s right hand. The hand itself appeared as though it was on fire with a black flame.
“Archers! Prepare to fire!” The commander managed gets out as he kept his eyes on the figure. “Fire.”
Over twenty arrows were shot at the figure who was no more than seventy-five meters away. While the arrows were on target, none reached their mark. The figure didn’t even break stride as he moved his right hand covered with black fire in a slow, haunting fashion. Black dust erupted from his hand, and the arrows disappeared into nothingness.
When they saw this, many of Carlisle’s soldiers began to panic. Under the intense Ki Pressure and killing intent, most had lost their rationality. Three soldiers made a full rush at the figure.
“Stop!” The commander shouted to no avail.
The first to reach the figure had his sword drawn and sliced down, but his blade turned into smoke before it could find its target. The figure maintained his pace as if it didn’t even acknowledge the solder. Suddenly the soldier fell, and none knew why.
The next soldier met the same fate, while the third mentally prepared himself for it. After he had recovered from his disintegrated sword, he launched a punch, which the figure caught with his flaming hand. With a noticeable crack, the armor disintegrated around his body, and he met the same fate as the other two.
It was then that the figures attention was drawn to the commander. The commander could sense it. However, he did not attempt to retreat. It was as if the Ki told him if he moved, he died. It was only a series of explosions to his left that temporarily jerked his attention momentarily.
At the figure approached, many of the men began to panic and retreat while those who didn’t fainted.
It was then that a unit of Cavalry appeared and charged the figure.
“Don’t!” The commander yelled to no avail.
The figure raised his left hand towards them without a glance as sparks rippled between his fingers. Some of the horsemen were launched off their horses while others fell to the side, caught in their stirrups.
The figure did not attempt to subjugate them further, break his stride, or even to give them much notice from the start. He just continued to walk toward the commander and only stopped in front of him.
“Who… What are you?” The commander asked the figure.
With a cold, dark, deep voice, the figure spoke, “I am the being of Creation and Destruction, Mahesvara, and I have a message of my grace, mercy, and benevolence for your superiors.”
...
After a short amount of time, the second skirmish of the day ended.
...
In the afternoon, under the dark clouds that had rolled in, the general of Carlisle’s Army made his way to the front line. *Rumble* The clouds above echoed thunder as lightning jutted between them.
“Settle down,” One soldier said to another. “The rods around our position will catch any lightning, so we’re safe.”
“I do say, old friend, what is this nonsense about?” The general asked the commander on his approach.
“Just as you heard.” The commander replied, still pale. “The… Individual, who claimed to be a being of Creation and Destruction by the name Mahesvara, gave us an ultimatum. If we turn around peacefully, we will be spared. Else we will all be condemned to disappear as dust, scattered to the winds.”
The general’s face turns very skeptical. “If this were coming from anyone other than you, I would quite possibly have them executed on the spot. I have never heard of such a thing. He is surely a man.”
The commander shook his head. “If it is a man, he might as well be a god.”
“I heard that none perished against him.”
“He single-handedly kept at bay 1000 enemies as if it were nothing at all. Or perhaps, he did not care.”
“What do you mean?”
The commander’s eyes narrowed. “Do you check to see if you kill every insect you step on?”
“I still think you are exaggerating. Where is this… man now?”
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
“He stands upon the highest hill in between both armies.”
The general took a spyglass to look out across the plains and saw two figures. “Who is the old lady?”
“We believe she is the former queen and mother of the late queen of Camelot. She is the one who single-handedly decimated our left flank with a half dozen casts of unknown fire magic.”
“Is that not where Freed deployed?”
“We found him unconscious a short time ago with burns all over his body. The soldiers reported that he became the center of her attacks as soon as she spotted him, and he was weakened from continues fighting. She didn’t seem to hold back and tried to kill him in surprise. Luckily, his Ki was sufficient to survive the first blow, which launched him back into our soldiers. She attacked several more times, but our soldiers quickly carried him to safety. Eventually, she ran out of energy and could only give up, though moral on the left flank plummeted.”
“Well, at least he is alive. How is his condition.”
“Alive and angry. When he heard Camelot’s Hero appeared on the right flank, he insisted on going there, but he was not in any condition to. We managed to appease him by giving him the full reports of Camelot’s Hero.”
“Care for him well. He needs to save his strength in case we need him to fight some tough opponents.” The general’s replied as his gaze shifted toward the other figure. The figure clad in black stood perpendicular to the general while he looked up at the clouds. As if he knew he had the general’s attention, the figure suddenly snapped his head directly toward the general who flinched in response. “He does give off an eerie feeling, I will admit. You say he could turn things to smoke and his Ki flame was monstrously large?”
“It was roughly eight times the average.”
“That is troublesome. Freed has around seven times as much, which is the most of all or soldiers by far. How could someone like this be unknown? Could he be Camelot’s hero? Are we sure he appeared?”
Another commander stepped up. “The reports should be accurate. There were no confirmed sightings as everyone who should have sighted him died. However, the amount of Ki reported matches with the hero, and we overheard several Camelot soldiers shouting that the hero was there, so it should be true.
“A hidden trump card?” The general muttered with a frown before he turned back to the center commander. “What would you suggest I do?”
“I will personally back you up regardless of what you decide to do, attack, or retreat. Though in your position, I would rather place my bet explaining it to our king rather than fighting… Him.”
It was then that all froze in fear. Even from such a distance, they all felt the sheer amount of Ki released by the black figure. As he looked through the spyglass, the general couldn’t help but stare in awe at the sheer amount of Ki that surrounded the figure’s body. The general watched as the figure raised his left hand towards the clouds.
*Boom!* All flinched as lightning struck the figure who appeared not even phased by such an event.
*Boom!**Boom!* *Boom!* *Boom!* *Boom!**Boom!**Boom!*
Seven more bolts of lightning struck the figure.
Discharges of electricity emanated from the figure’s body, visible even by those who did not have enhanced vision. The figure’s hand slowly lowered and pointed towards Carlisle’s army.
After a second, the realization of the absurdity which was about to happen finally occurred to the general. “Get d-” *Boom!!!*
Before any could react, a massive bolt of lightning went over all of their heads as it struck three different lightning poles and blasted the wood below the metal top. The general, who had hunched over reflexively, looked at the polls, then back at the figure. The figure himself appeared unmoved, sparks still occasionally shot out from his body.
When the general looked at the other soldiers, he realized that there was no hope for a fight as they all feared the lightning that could ignore the lightning rods. If he ordered an attack, most would be killed with their metal armor. Even if they didn’t, their white faces clearly showed that their morale had dropped to a record low.
“Fall back. Fall back!” the general repeated when he realized his voice had greatly diminished. The general himself continued to watch the figure as his troops pulled back. After a short while, the black figure and the old lady began to move back to the Camelotian army.
“Get a message to the king immediately!” the general shouted.
…
The setting sun illuminated the field of battle strewn with corpses. The army of Camelot, led by the Black Knight, continued to slowly gain ground while Carlisle’s forces made sure to keep a constant distance. Unfortunately for Carlisle, this meant the had to retreat over the river which acted as a natural barrier. The more troops retreated over the water; the less powerful an offensive would be.
“Is this the right call?” A commander asked.
The general sighed. “I can’t say. However, that figure, whoever he is, can control lightning. I’ve never heard of the magic that can do so, nor should we after the seven that it is even magic. Perhaps he couldn’t now and call lighting, but created. We don’t know what we’re up against. If he can summon an infinite number of lightning bolts, we will lose our soldiers' lives in vain. I would much rather be the general that decided to retreat the general that cause the downfall of Carlisle.”
As this conversation occurred, a figure quickly rode into the camp and dismounted his horse. “General, receive the Royal Decree.”
The general quickly knelt as the messenger unrolled the decree. The fact that it was a decree and not a message did not bode well.
“His Majesty is extremely displeased to hear that the offensive has failed. The general is hereby demoted one rank and will go one year without pay.”
The general was slightly relieved because the penalty was far less than what he expected it to be. However, he weakly pushed aside these thoughts and continued to listen to the messenger with his full attention.
“However, due to the appearance of the new variable, your decision is understandable. You are hereby ordered to continue a full retreat beyond the river.”
“Received.” The general said.
The messenger nodded, closed the Royal decree, and handed the general a letter.
A little surprised, the general quickly opened the message and read it to find it contained further orders and information. The intent was to wait for more details about the new threat. At the very least, the attack would not continue the end of the lightning season, which was still some time away. Additionally, they would utilize plants across Camelot an attempt to spark a civil war due to the instability caused by the death of the king and queen of Camelot.
The general gave a slight breath of relief as he carefully shredded the letter and began to facilitate the immediate and complete retreat of Carlisle’s forces.
“You idiot!” *Smack* Duran angrily yelled as he punched Martel. The Kevlar armor with the bulletproof helmet would have come in handy, but Martel had removed his helmet. As it stood, the punch stung.
“Even you have a limit,” Duran continued. “Don’t try to hide it! You were using Ki and Magic recklessly, and I know you went out of your way to not kill anyone! If you had that kind of power, you could have annihilated all of them! Why didn’t you? Why did...” Duran stopped when he saw the tears as they trickled down from Martel’s eyes.
“I wanted to. I really wanted to. But every time I thought I had the resolve, every time I was about to kill, her face flashed before my eyes. If I ever do see her again, I cannot be sure I can face her if I take an innocent life.”
Duran took a softer expression at Martel’s words. “If you are going to be continuing like this, be sure you don’t join her too soon. I think you are the only thing keeping Morgan sane.”
“You give her too little credit.”
Duran slumped back into his chair and took a deep breath to relax. “Assuming your stupid stunt worked, what do you plan to do?”
“I… I don’t know.” Martel replied without making eye contact.
“Whatever you do, you have to promise me not to seek revenge until you become far stronger than you are now.”
Martel briefly flinched before he made a sarcastic smile. “Are you of all people telling me not to get revenge?”
“Don’t try to deflect. Yes, thank you for correcting my mindset at the time, but I know you are considering it. Don’t. With the river, we will only end up with a war that may never end, draining both sides the finances and manpower. Given that we may have to fight the ‘darkness,’ that is the worst thing we could be doing right now.”
“Then, assassination?” Martel said hesitantly as even he did not see it as a possibility.
“Far too dangerous and pointless.” Duran said helplessly. “The only reason why we suffered from assassination was due to Carlisle years of planning and personnel, which we do not have. Let me ask you; if he was alone, do you think Freed could have been successful?”
“No.”
“Of course not. Even though both you and Freed are far stronger than the average person, you’re not invincible. Our security at the time, much less wartime, would’ve been sufficient. Additionally, the only person who could ever hope to be successful for such an operation would be yourself. However, we need you in Camelot, both as the hero and the ‘black knight’ persona, to help maintain the status quo. Additionally, you are far too high profile. Your disappearance would be noticed, and the borders will be heavily patrolled. Though it would be possible for you to get into Carlisle, it would take a long time. By that time, Carlisle would have gotten news of your disappearance, and they would increase security, knowing that they are targets. Your chance of failure, and the subsequent ramifications, are too high to risk with your current level strength. Besides, given the current state of Carlisle secession, what do you think would happen if you were successful?”
“… The crown and second prince are currently vying for succession rights. In terms of nobility that supports them, the crown prince is stronger. Should the current monarch die, the undecided nobles most likely back the crown prince.”
“That is correct. The reason why a lot of nobility have not chosen a side is because the current King is in good health. However, the more time is given the more likely the second prince will be able to gain support from the neutral nobles. The less centralized Carlisle is, the better it is for us. Let me ask you, do you see yourself becoming powerful enough to safely assassinate them?”
“Yes, but I have no idea how long that may be.”
“That’s fine. Once you feel you are strong enough, we will assess the situation then.”
“What about future aggression?”
Duran shrugged and smiled wryly. “That’s the name of the game. No matter who’s in power, Carlisle is our enemy, and there is always that risk. The best thing to do is to learn from this mistake and not provide them any other opportunities.”
Martel sighed as he felt his own powerlessness.
“Leave the politics to me. You only have to worry about getting stronger.”
Martel weakly nodded.
“Your Majesty.” A voice rang out from outside the tent. “An emissary from the enemy has appeared.”
“Have you checked for weapons?” Duran asked as Martel hid.
“Thoroughly, he is clean.”
“Let him in.”
The emissary came in and bows. “Greetings your Majesty. We have come to inform you we have taken Mahesvara’s generous offer and will retreat to Carlisle without causing an incident.”
“I understand. Then tell this to your leaders. We shall let you retreat peacefully. However,” the air turned cold as Duran releases more Ki than ever before. “Do not think that what you have done to my family and my people will be forgotten.”
The emissary’s face became pale when he faced roughly six times an average man’s Ki. He bowed and made a quick exit.
Martel came from his hiding spot and spoke to Duran. “Remind me never to make you my enemy.”
For the first time in a while, Duran made a small smile.
That day, both armies walked away with a tale of an individual so great it became an instant legend. Carlisle would forever tell of the being of Creation and Destruction, Mahesvara, who caused their entire army to retreat. Camelot would forever remember the Black Knight, who stopped the invasion of Carlisle. Neither would remember him as he was known through the land; the Hero Martel.
...
A short time later, Martel changed out of the Kevlar into his regular clothing. He made his way to the outskirts of the camp and sat down amongst the trees.
[Is… Is it finally over.] He couldn’t help but wonder. As if it was a signal, he could feel the energy as it left his body. He felt as though the entire world had crashed down on him. The adrenaline rush that has lasted for multiple days had finally come to an end.
Martel grabbed his stomach in pain and bent over to the side and threw up bile and blood. All of his stress that had built up had finally released. To make matters worse, he had taken all the negative emotion created by the horrors of war, which further corrupted his emotional state. Martel attempted to heal his stomach with magic, but he didn’t know if it was effective. After a short time, he made his my way back to the center of the camp. Duran had provided three huge tents. Morgan and Martel got their own while the other three girls shared one. The tent itself was made for those with high status as there was a changing station, an elaborate makeshift bed, and was separated from other tents.
Martel sat on the bed and bent over with his head in his hands.
“Martel,” Caelia said as she entered the tent.
“What is it?” He asked as he gave her a small smile.
“Can we talk… Privately?”
“Yes,” He replied as he motioned her to sit on the bed, which she complied. “What is it?”
She looked down in discomfort and embarrassment. “How… How are you?”
“How should I be?”
“I… That is…”
“I’m terrible.”
She nodded her head and remained silent. Nothing was spoken between them for a short time before Caelia spoke again. “You know, back in the village, I often wondered why the other Demihumans avoided me. When I asked my mom, she said ‘they just can’t understand.’ When I asked my dad, he said that some people couldn’t help but discriminate.’ The point is, I was very much alone. The only one who didn’t avoid me was Little Sis, Shiro. Her parents were more understanding. We shared our birthday celebrations as we were born the same day, five years apart. To me, she was always family. I never had a friend until I met Freyja.” Tears started to well up in her eyes as she continued. “She was a princess, a stranger, a human, and yet she treated me as her friend. After a short time, I wondered if she would be my best friend.” She grabbed Martel’s sleeve. “Sometimes she talked about you. Whenever she did, a smile came across her face, a beautiful smile. I could tell that she loved you, dearly. So thank you. Thank you for loving my friend.” Though his tears had dried up, his eyes still watered as I moved to comfort her.
“Is there something I can do for you? Like how you helped me?” Caelia asked.
Martel shook his head. “No. I cannot force my feelings to another. Even if you could take away some of my negative emotions, I would refuse.”
“Then can you take some of my happiness?” She asked innocently.
“No. To do so would leave too much negativity within you.”
“All the same, I am happier now because of you. I don’t mind sharing.”
“It’s not possible. Though I can forcibly take negative emotions, I cannot take positive emo-”
His speech cut short as he couldn’t believe what he saw. As if to deny his statement, a white flame, relatively more substantial than a typical black flame, came from Caelia. As far as he could tell, neither of them controlled it. It was as if the white flame had a will of its own. It entered his chest, and the changes were readily felt. Though not completely, it felt as though the white flame burned away the darkness within him, and a weight lifted from his shoulders. It felt as though a few of the many broken pieces inside of him had come back together.
His worry for Caelia was the next thing that crossed his mind. He sensed the black and white spirits within her, which represented negative and positive emotions, respectively. Contrary to what he initially thought, they were both quite stable as they were before.
“How do you feel?” She asked him after she recovered from what happened.
“Better,” Martel replied with an honest smile.
A beautiful smile comes across her face. “I’m glad.” She replied as the white flame inside her grew.
“Did you do that on purpose?” He asked her.
“I… I don’t know. I was thinking about how much I wanted you to be happy, even if it meant sacrificing some of my happiness. Then that happened.”
“I see. What a strange phenomenon.” He said as he pondered it.
She returned it with a smile.
[Ah, there it is. The reason, the drive. I know what I have to do now.] Martel thought. “Caelia, I have to go for a short while. Will you please protect Morgan in my absence?”
Surprise covered her face. “Yes, but you are leaving so soon?”
“I will leave once Carlisle has fully retreated. I will also leave Shiro to help you. Please keep the other girls in check as the eldest.”
Her cheeks became slightly red. “I understand. I won’t let you down.”
*Hi!!!* She made a cute noise as he hugged her. “Thank you,” He whispered in her ear.
“Of… Of course.” She said with a hint of embarrassment as she awkwardly returned the hug.
When he looked back, he could say that that white flame truly saved him.
End of Day -164