Kael stalked the battlements with purpose, his presence commanding the respect of soldiers not of his own country. He offered counsel where necessary, for the enemy that lay ahead was one he had clashed with for three long decades. He did not hesitate to chastise those who were ill-prepared, and though he was a recent addition to their ranks, none dared to defy him. His strategic acumen and formidable physical prowess were beyond dispute.

The last vestiges of the once-mighty kingdom of Alveria lived on in Kael and Lana, a mage a few years his senior. The Holy Empire had ravaged their homeland, slaughtered their kin, and left their nation in ruin. Undeterred, Kael and his fellow survivors forged alliances with other countries to wage a relentless war against the Holy Empire, fueled by an insatiable thirst for vengeance. One by one, their newfound allies crumbled, leaving only Kael and Lana to carry on the fight.

Kael's gaze fell upon a trembling young man, his eyes wide with fear as he stared into the void. Approaching with a mixture of pity and resolve, Kael barked, “You there, what’s your name?”

The young soldier snapped to attention, his body still quivering. “J-Joel. My name is Joel. Sir!” he stammered.

With a flick of his wrist, Kael produced a flask from his leather jacket, thrusting it into Joel's shaking hands. “Drink this. It’s an order.”

“Is… Is that alcohol, sir? I thought you said not to drink before a battle…”

Kael sighed. “The soldiers I addressed then needed their wits about them. You, on the other hand, could do with a little less thinking. No, what you need is liquid courage. Drink up and focus on how you'll wreak havoc upon our enemies. As I said, it's an order.”

Nervously, Joel took a swig, his coughs eliciting a chuckle from Kael. “Now, make sure you finish all of it.”

“Yes, sir!” The young man saluted, and Kael clapped him on the shoulder before resuming his rounds.

His attention was soon drawn to a diminutive figure clad in a frayed, tattered brown cloak. “Ah, Lana. How goes your preparation?”

The figure turned, revealing a middle-aged woman with raven hair and eyes that smoldered with emerald fire. Her high cheekbones and chiseled features bestowed upon her a fierce, almost elven countenance. In Lana's gaze, Kael recognized the unquenchable flames of hatred that had fueled their shared quest for vengeance. He lived solely for revenge against the Holy Empire, but Lana's fury seemed infinite, as though her petite frame concealed an endless wellspring of wrath.

“Could be better. The mages of this kingdom are a joke. But I've prepared them as best I could to slaughter as many of those bastards as possible.”

Kael grunted in response, and Lana's expression shifted to one of urgency. “It's time. They're approaching. Roughly a hundred thousand.”

Though once staggered by the sheer size of the enemy forces, Kael had long since ceased to be surprised. He knew not how their ranks swelled despite suffering devastating losses, but he left such ruminations to others. His purpose was to stab, and he excelled in that art. Kael rallied the troops, preparing them for the cataclysmic clash that loomed on the horizon.

Assembled on the battlefield, the army bristled with anticipation, their nerves raw with a blend of dread and fury. Kael had spent tireless hours forging their resentment in his short time in this country. Now, it was time to do what he did best.

As the enemy's ominous shadow drew nearer, Kael's voice thundered across the battlefield. "Now is the hour of retribution! Defend your homeland! You have but one task. Survival is not your concern; concentrate only on vanquishing the foe. I want not a single soul from the Holy Empire left breathing when this battle ends. Forward!"

With a flourish, Kael swung his spear, unleashing a shimmering crescent of light from its tip. The radiant arc soared towards the oncoming forces, cleaving through scores of adversaries before dissolving into the ether.

A deafening roar erupted from the soldiers, their voices united as they surged towards the enemy like a tidal wave. The carnage unfolded over endless hours, the landscape morphing and quaking beneath their feet. Arcane spells laid waste to large swathes of soldiers, while warriors tore asunder both earth and enemy with unyielding ferocity.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Hours of carnage had passed, and Kael still stood on the battlefield, the weight of his spear pressing into his calloused hand, and sweat pouring down his face, stinging his eyes. He knew that this would be his final battle. As he surveyed the vast expanse before him, the enemy forces seemed to stretch endlessly, like a ravenous tide waiting to swallow the continent whole. He had fought countless battles over thirty years, but the ominous atmosphere of this one was unparalleled. A heavy sense of dread weighed on his chest, an unwelcome companion, and he found it hard to shake the feeling that he would fall, never achieving the revenge he desired with all his heart.

As Kael channeled mana into his spear to take down another enemy soldier, his body started to weaken, and he struggled to breathe. The air around him crackled with raw energy, but the mana he absorbed no longer seemed enough to sustain him.

Kael took a moment to scan his surroundings, the devastation wrought upon the landscape painfully evident. The once-lush fields were now scorched and blackened, their vibrant hues replaced with a desolate gray. Trees, their branches once reaching out like welcoming arms, were reduced to mere stumps. The air was thick with the acrid smell of smoke and the sickening stench of death. Kael had witnessed many horrors in his life, but the sheer scale of destruction in this battle was unlike anything he had ever encountered.

At his core, Kael had always been a simple man. Born the son of a farmer, he took up the spear for revenge when his home and family were taken from him. Politics and intrigue held no interest for him; instead, he focused on growing stronger, honing his skills so he could take down the enemies before him. He had seen many comrades fall in battle, but he always managed to survive, using the strength he gained to overcome any opponent. But now, it wasn't enough. As he gritted his teeth and fought on, he couldn't help but feel the icy grip of regret.

Regret for not becoming strong enough. Regret that he couldn't save his family. Regret that he hadn't seized the opportunity to learn magic, leaving him with only the path of a warrior on the battlefield. But the time for regrets had passed. Kael knew that his time was running out.

His vision blurred at the edges, Kael saw his enemies closing in on him, their faces twisted with bloodlust. He knew that he couldn't fight them all, but he refused to go down without a fight. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, he focused his mana, channeling it into his spear. The weapon glowed with a fierce, fiery energy, a reflection of Kael's own burning determination. He knew that this would be his final stand.

With a primal roar, Kael charged forward, his spear held high. The enemies around him shouted in fear and surprise, but they quickly recovered and moved to defend themselves. Kael fought with every ounce of his strength, his movements quick and precise, like a well-oiled machine forged in the fires of countless battles. But it was not enough. His enemies were relentless, and Kael's mana was rapidly depleting.

Finally, Kael felt his strength give out. He stumbled and fell to the ground, his spear clattering to the earth beside him. He gasped for breath, his vision blurring, the world around him fading. He knew that this was the end. He closed his eyes, ready to accept his fate.

But then, something unexpected happened. Kael felt a surge of mana flowing into his body, filling him with renewed strength. He opened his eyes and saw a figure standing over him. It was Lana. Her eyes burning even more fiercely with her never ending hatred for the enemy.

"Get up," she said, her voice strained but determined. "You aren’t allowed to die yet. Is this all your hatred amounted to?”

Kael was dazed from his loss of blood. He wanted to fight, but he couldn’t even tell where he was. He could feel he was slowly gaining his senses however.

“You were the one who said you didn’t want to see a single enemy breathing afterwards. You can’t lay down and rest while the rest of your soldiers are fighting so tirelessly, can you? Come on you muscle-headed lug, get out there and kill the enemy!” She was shouting by the end of her little speech.

As Kael’s senses returned, he was filled once again with a seething rage and hatred. Hatred for the invaders and what they did to his country, to his family.

With a grunt, Kael forced himself to his feet. He picked up his spear and faced his enemies once again. He channeled the last of his mana into his spear and charged forward once more, fueled only by anger and the mana from the mage flowing throughout his body like a torrent.

Kael fought with reckless abandon, no concern for his own safety as he sustained injury after injury while cutting down his opponents, their lifeless bodies starting to pile around him. The mage beside him saved him from any fatal blows by piercing enemies that approached him from behind with stone bullets that whistled through the air like a deadly storm.

But it could not last. After felling over a hundred more enemy soldiers, Kael felt his strength begin to wane once more. He knew that this time there was no coming back. He fell to his knees, his spear clattering to the ground with a hollow sound.

As he looked up, he saw the mage standing before him. She was surrounded by a bright, white light, her entire being seemingly infused with raw power. She looked down at him, her expression solemn and resolute.

"Thank you," she said, her voice laced with gratitude and sorrow. "You fought well these last few decades."

Kael nodded, his breathing labored. He knew that his time had finally come. He closed his eyes, ready to accept his fate.

Suddenly, Kael felt a warmth spread throughout his body, a comforting sensation that made him feel at peace. He opened his eyes and saw the mage standing over him once again, her hands glowing with a soft, white light.

"It's okay," she said, her voice gentle, a stark contrast to the chaos that reigned around them. "You can rest now."

Kael was surprised she was willing to waste time and energy on comforting him in the middle of the battle, but he was grateful. He chuckled internally. Maybe she thought he deserved a peaceful rest for being her last surviving companion? Kael felt his body growing lighter, his breathing slowing down. He knew that he was dying, but he wasn't afraid. He only wished he could have killed more of the invaders who had desecrated his home.

As his vision began to fade, Kael felt a sense of peace wash over him. He hoped that if there was a next life, he could be strong. Strong enough to protect what he loved. He closed his eyes and let go, ready to face whatever lay beyond.