Chapter V: The Final Battle

Chapter V:

The Final Battle

 

1

 

In the afternoon, the blazing sunshine was abruptly replaced by a sky full of dark clouds. Lightning flashed, and large raindrops began to fall.

The soldier guarding the Roid castle gates didn’t even have time to put on his rain gear—instead, he quickly took refuge in the shed to continue his duty from within.

He tensed as he saw a cluster of dark shadows approach through the sheets of rain.

“Who goes there?” he called out nervously to the six figures.

“My name is Parn,” the lead shadow answered, lowering his cloak to show his face and immediately getting soaked. “We’ve journeyed from the Great Magus’s mansion on orders from King Fahn. Please send word of our return to His Majesty.”

“Sir Parn!” the guard cried joyously. More than a month had passed since they had left Roid. “I’m glad you’re safe! I’ll have them open the gates.” The guard stepped out of his shed, ignoring the rain, and waved to the guard beyond the moat to lower the drawbridge.

Fahn was in a war council with Elm and Kashue when he received the news, and he requested that the returning adventurers be brought there to speak to them all.

Parn and his companions were led through the castle and into a room containing dry clothes and steaming hot towels to wipe themselves down with. Parn finished pulling on a light hemp shirt, then caught sight of an approaching servant. His eyes widened in surprise.

“What’s this?” he asked, looking at the armor the servant presented him with. It wasn’t his father’s breastplate, but a white one with a shining silver crest—a cross on the left breast.

“His Majesty’s orders.” The servant bowed.

“I’m happy for you,” Deedlit said with a soft smile. She had changed into a loosely tailored grass-green outfit with a silk sash wrapped casually around her waist. Her hair still stuck damply to her forehead.

Parn shot her a grin as he buckled the new breastplate, then hung his father’s sword at his hip. The sword fit perfectly against the new armor as if they’d been made as a set.

“Let’s go,” he nodded to his friends.

Slayn wore a white Sage’s robe, identical to what Elm wore. Etoh was dressed in a Pharis cleric’s gown and had been given a ceremonial mace. Ghim changed into clean underclothes but wore his own mithril chain mail and garb over it, as well as his own battle axe on his back. Woodchuck changed but also put his own armor back on—he’d dried the leather armor and long black boots by the fireplace.

The group made their way to the room where King Fahn waited, which was in one of the castle’s spires. There were no windows, and they couldn’t even hear the fierce rain outside. Even so, a gentle breeze somehow kept it from feeling stuffy.

Deedlit glanced at the ceiling, looking conflicted. “Thank you for working so hard,” she murmured.

Parn glanced at her quizzically.

“Is it Sylph?” Slayn asked.

Deedlit nodded and raised her right hand into the air. The breeze stopped momentarily, then resumed.

The wind elemental was trapped in this room by some kind of spell, probably working to prevent any sound from getting in or out. This was not Deedlit’s kind of magic. It was ancient magic, tied to a magical device built in the days of the ancient kingdom. Elemental users like Deedlit controlled them to cast spells, or sometimes confined one in an object and thus put it to work. However, they wouldn’t enslave and exploit an elemental for hundreds of years. Deedlit couldn’t help but feel resentful at the treatment, though she tried not to let it show on her face.

There was a round table in the center of the room, with Fahn, Kashue, and Elm seated around it. On the table was a bottle, several unfinished glasses of wine, and a map of the area around Roid marked with colored lines.

“Well done, all of you,” King Fahn declared. The group bowed their heads at the praise. Kashue rose from his seat and stood before Parn, looking him up and down.

“That Holy Knight’s armor suits you now.” Kashue laughed, and he shook Parn’s hand firmly. “I have nothing more to teach you. I knew you’d all make it back, but it was a tough journey, wasn’t it?”

“It was,” Parn agreed. “The ruins of the stone kingdom are swarming with monsters. I think one day we should work with Moss to wipe them out, once and for all.”

“How valiant,” Kashue said, laughing loudly this time.

“Now then.” Fahn motioned Parn alone over to his side, gaze solemn. “Parn will be formally inducted into the Order of Knights soon, but for now we have business to discuss. I’d like Parn, Lord Slayn, and Lord Etoh to remain here and join our war council. The rest of you can make yourselves comfortable elsewhere and receive your rewards. You have my gratitude for aiding Parn and fulfilling this quest.”

“I didn’t follow him for a reward,” Deedlit said, shaking her head. Her stomach turned. Fahn’s words made it sound like Parn was no longer one of them.

“Likewise. I don’t need a reward. Give our shares to this man,” Parn said, motioning toward Woodchuck.

“Hey, thanks,” the thief declared shamelessly.

“How you divide it is up to you.” Fahn nodded magnanimously, then turned his attention back to the map. The guards escorted Deedlit, Woodchuck, and Ghim out, and the door closed behind them.

“There is a meal waiting for you in the guest room,” a servant informed them politely.

‘I figured as much,’ Woodchuck said. He shot a look back at the closed doors but obediently followed the servant.

“Well, this is dull,” Deedlit yawned and folded her hands behind her head.

“Have you lost your manners?” Ghim scoffed.

“Traveling with you lot did it to me,” Deedlit shot back.

“That sounds about right,” Woodchuck smirked with a sidelong glance at Ghim. “We’re lucky we get to fill our bellies, anyway.”

“True,” Ghim replied with a sigh. “That council will go on for a while…”

 

2

 

“To think that Karla was the warrior-mage all along…” Fahn groaned, then trailed off, lost in thought. He was shocked to discover that he’d been involved in one of Karla’s plots, but the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. During the war with the demon gods, Karla—a masked warrior-mage at the time—had tried to use everyone around her as pawns, including all her companions and even the demon gods themselves.

Now, she had robbed a young woman of her future and prevented the unification of Lodoss. In Karla’s mind, Fahn and Beld had come out of that war prepared to unify the island, so she plotted and set them against each other and pushed them toward mutual destruction.

But even knowing that didn’t mean he could prevent the coming battle. A showdown with Beld was inevitable.

“The Great Magus Wort claimed that Karla won’t assist Marmo anymore, but I’m not sure if we should trust him…” Parn said hesitantly.

“If the witch is truly this obsessed with balance, then she no longer has a reason to be on Marmo’s side,” Kashue replied with a bitter smile.

“We heard some rumors during our travels. Are things really that bad?”

“Honestly, yes.” Kashue gestured to the map as he explained the current situation.

During the month they had been gone, the tide of the battle had turned over and over. The first turning point was when Moss and Alania entered the war as allies of Valis. In particular, Jester the Dragon’s Eye, ruler of Highland, had rushed to their aid even before the rest of the Kingdom of Moss. He’d joined them out of his own sense of justice, and as leader of the Dragon Knights, he’d lent them considerable military power. The thirteen Dragon Knights had taken their dragon steeds and broken through the Marmo army deployed to the south of Kanon, then used that momentum to make their way to Marmo proper and set the port city on the north tip of the island on fire. Once the news spread, the people of Lodoss felt confident and called for their own countries to join the fray—the rest of Moss and Alania finally rose in opposition and closed in on Kanon from the north and by sea.

Many thought that Marmo’s fate was sealed, and for a time the allied forces had almost made it to Shining Hill, Kanon’s royal castle. But several more incidents shook their alliance.

The first was the assassination of Kadomos VII, King of Alania, by his younger brother, Duke Laster. His entire family was murdered, including the infant prince, and Alania was plunged into a fierce civil war between supporters of the Duke and his opponents.

At the same time, one of Moss’s factions, “Dragon Scale” Venon, rose in sudden revolt against the royal castle of Moss’s ruler, “Dragon Flame” Harkane. In Flaim, the Tribe of Fire emerged from their hiding places in the mountains to attack the capital city of Blade while its king was absent.

And from Marmo itself, the main force of dark elves led by Chief Luzeev made landfall. As the armies of Alania and Moss returned home, the army of Valis was left behind to be tormented by the dark elves’ evil spells. If not for Kashue’s help, the Valis army might have been annihilated.

Despite the uprising of desert savages, Kashue did not bring his troops home. He’d been expecting an attack while he was away, so he’d left his land in the hands of his right-hand man, Shadam. The people of Flaim were all brave warriors, so he was confident that they’d prevail against the threat even without his aid.

The Valis army managed to return with minimal casualties, Kashue bringing up the rear. The Marmo army followed and had already crossed the border into Valis, burning villages and plundering fields as they went. The allied armies of Valis and Flaim set up a final line of defense in the plains east of Roid, and the Marmo army, led by Emperor Beld himself, drew near. The final battle was looming close.

“That’s terrible,” Parn sighed as Kashue’s briefing ended. Everything had gone exactly according to Karla’s plan. Parn had prevented the King of Alania’s assassination by chance, but he’d never imagined that the king’s own brother would cause an uprising. Karla had manipulated events in Flaim and Moss, too, and plunged half of Lodoss into civil wars. Valis and King Fahn, Marmo and Emperor Beld, were left to clash one-on-one just as Karla intended. The witch had probably known all along what the outcome would be.

“Even if Karla does appear in support of Marmo, it changes nothing about what we must do. We have no choice but to believe in Wort’s words. Parn…your first battle as a Holy Knight is going to be crucial to the fate of Lodoss.”

“I’m ready,” Parn answered with pride.

“For now, don’t prepare for the worst,” Kashue said, his even tone intended to ease Parn’s anxiety. “Just focus on surviving the battle in front of you, and you will naturally grow as a warrior. Only fools die in vain.”

“Exactly. There’s no need to rush into heroism.” Fahn agreed.

“Oh. Of course.” Parn lowered his head in embarrassment.

“King Fahn, may I take charge of him?” Kashue said. “He has never fought as a Holy Knight before. His fighting style is close to that of the people of the desert. I’d like him to take command of the newly recruited mercenaries in my army.”

“That’s a good idea. You will learn a lot from watching Lord Kashue fight up close. I heard that you once fought as a desert mercenary, as well. You will be better able to prove yourself there than in an all-knight regiment you aren’t accustomed to. You may not like it, but you have to accept.”

“I wouldn’t dream of objecting,” Parn answered hastily. The Valis Order of Knights was known for their unity and teamwork. Parn knew that he’d only be a burden if he joined them without training.

“Now, Lord Etoh and Lord Slayn, we have something to discuss with you two.”

“What is it?” Etoh asked, sitting up straight.

“Lord Genart has appointed you a cleric of the court, but have you accepted the position?”

“Yes, respectfully,” Etoh placed a hand over his heart and bowed.

“Good. Then you will handle all the religious ceremonies at court from now on. As for you, Lord Slayn—what are your plans? King Kashue mentioned that he would like to have you as his court wizard…”

Slayn, surprised, turned to Kashue and bowed deeply. “I’m honored, but there is something I must do. I’m afraid I can’t serve anyone until my task is done.”

“Is this about Ghim?” Etoh asked quietly.

“Yes…” Slayn nodded.

“Too bad, I like you. But if you have your own mission, I understand. Just remember that the gates of the castle of Flaim are always open to you.”

“Thank you.” Slayn bowed once more.

“I’m concerned for Ghim, too,” Etoh said, apologetic, “but I have to do my duty as a servant of Pharis.”

“Don’t worry about us. We’ll be careful.”

“You’re still going up against that witch.” Parn’s stomach twisted at the thought.

“Woodchuck will help us, so we’ll manage,” Slayn answered, unruffled.

“Then bring me, too,” Parn said with determination. “I’m sure King Fahn will allow me to go kill Karla.”

“Kill Karla? By yourselves?” Fahn frowned. “That’s reckless. You all know what she’s capable of.”

“The Great Magus Wort gave us a weapon for fighting her.” Slayn quickly told the kings about the magic wand.

“I see… Then perhaps you will be able to defeat her. We cannot allow a ghost from the ancient kingdom to keep treating Lodoss like her plaything. When the time comes, we will use all the power of Valis to defeat her, and if she appears in the upcoming battle, you will use the magic wand.” But even as he said it, Fahn didn’t expect her to appear during the battle—she would know the risks of being in a melee.

“If the witch appears, I’ll bring her down myself,” Kashue said casually. Then he said, laughing, “Thus, I’ll get a brilliant wizard for my court.”

“Beld is our more immediate concern,” Fahn said. “Marmo split their army into three and is heading to Roid through the eastern plains. We’ll have to split our forces into three to engage them. I will take the center with Leonis, Elm will take the right flank, and King Kashue will take the left. Each of our forces will strike the enemy we encounter.”

“Head on?” Kashue asked.

“The enemy won’t have anything in reserve for an ambush. The rightmost of Marmo’s forces is the monster army led by dark elves. The wizards will be assigned to King Kashue’s army to handle them. They will likely be more dangerous than the Knights of Darkness approaching in the center, or the savage warriors from the Forest of Darkness on the left.”

“I’ll join Parn,” Slayn offered. “I’m a wizard, too—I’ve earned my Sage robes, after all. I don’t desire combat, but I can’t retreat from this fight. So I’ll use my spells in support of Parn and King Kashue.”

“Will the Pharis battle-priests be fighting?” Etoh asked Fahn.

“Of course,” Fahn nodded. “Lord Genart has declared this a battle between the Supreme God Pharis and Phalaris, the God of Darkness. The Holy Knights of the Great Temple of Pharis will take part.”

“Then may I join in? I trained as a battle-priest when I was at the Temple of Alania.”

“Yes, you can also join the left wing.” Fahn nodded at Etoh, then turned to Kashue and motioned to wrap up the war council.

“Well then, Your Majesty, when will the battle begin?” Kashue asked, following protocol.

“The day after tomorrow, at noon. Send a messenger through to the front line.”

At Fahn’s words, Elm opened the door and left quickly to carry out his orders. Parn followed, feeling tense.

It had begun.

 

3

 

The time of the final battle had come.

Parn had never experienced a clash of armies so large before. He rode alongside Kashue and the knights of Flaim, watching the clouds growing in the eastern skies.

“It was such nice weather…” The sun had disappeared behind the cloud cover. It was too early for an afternoon shower, and Parn sniffed the air to see if it would rain. It didn’t feel very humid—the weather was behaving strangely.

“They probably summoned clouds with magic,” Slayn mumbled from behind them. He was walking carefully to avoid being kicked by horses—the battle was clearly weighing heavily on his mind, so Parn was trying to give him his space.

Etoh walked behind Slayn, Pharis battle-priests in matching armor streaming behind him like a group of pilgrims.

Deedlit rode a horse a short distance behind Parn—she’d decided at the last minute to join the battle. Woodchuck, however, had stayed behind in the castle—a battlefield was no place for a rogue like him.

As for Ghim, rescuing Leylia was his most important duty.

“A large-scale battle such as this isn’t like the small skirmishes you’re used to, which tend to break down into one-on-one fights,” Kashue said, offering guidance as he always did. “You must always be vigilant and keep track of the flow of the battle. You need to know whether your allies have the upper hand or are losing ground. Even the most skilled swordsman will die on the battlefield if he isn’t aware of the battle around him.” Kashue frowned. “Our opponents use dark magic and elemental magic. We have no idea what they can do, so be prepared for their trickery. Use code words among allies and consider anyone who cannot answer an enemy. The deaths of a few allies will do less damage in the long run.” Kashue turned to Parn. “It’s not a popular strategy, but it’s how I survived.”

Parn understood the meaning underneath the words. Don’t waste your life. Only take that risk when it’s worth it.

When the bells in Roid tolled noon, Fahn swung his sword down to signal the attack. Horns blasted and drums beat out their low boom, boom, sending the signal through the entire army.

On the northern battlefield, Kashue heard the signal. With a shout, he commanded his knights and soldiers to charge through the rolling grassland and attack the enemy camp. The battle had begun.

Angry bellows rang out from soldiers on both sides, and a ringing clash of swords surrounded them. Soon, death cries could be heard as the battlefield turned into a sea of carnage.

“Deed, don’t fall behind!” Parn called out to the elf. He drew his sword and spurred his horse on.

“Follow me!” Kashue ordered. “Don’t give them time to cast spells!” But before they could get any further, a company of dark knights appeared over a hill and cleaved into the side of the charging Flaim army, almost exactly where Parn was riding.

“We’ll get them!” Parn called as he reined in his steed. If these knights ruined their formation, they would be at a massive disadvantage.

“Leave it to me!” Deedlit called as she released Undine from the water bag at her hip. The water elemental fluttered through the air and clung to the lead knight’s face like a thin film. He tumbled off his horse, grasping at his face, unable to breathe.

A moment later, a massive explosion shot through the center of the dark knights—a fire spell from Slayn. Several of the horsemen exploded and several more were knocked from their mounts. The remaining knights bravely drew closer, however.

Then, just before the lead rider crossed swords with Parn, they swerved and galloped off.

“They were a diversion,” Slayn warned. “The dark elves are lurking, hidden.”

Parn nodded, then rode down the line yelling, “Protect the wizard! He’ll tell us where the dark elves are!”

Etoh’s battle-priests surrounded Slayn with shields facing outward.

“Thank you,” the wizard muttered. From behind the shield wall, he could point out where the invisible dark elves were approaching and cast neutralizing spells to break their invisibility.

“There! Get them!” Parn shouted, pointing at the now-visible dark elves with his sword. He galloped over and used the momentum to run one through with his blade. The mercenaries of his squad followed, skillfully picking off the dark elves. Flaim’s powerful mercenary army had once been led by Kashue himself, and they were on par with Flaim’s Order of Knights. They were normally led by Kashue’s trusted right hand man, Shadam.

“Don’t stray far from the infantry!” Kashue shouted. “Support the magic-users!”

At his order, Parn turned his horse back toward Slayn and Etoh. They were already in the enemy camp, but as Parn rode up, the enemy was nowhere to be found. He could only see monsters with bows moving in small groups, roving the hills.

The monsters were weak, but their arrows flew far from their posts on high ground. Parn drew an arrow from his quiver and, with a twang of his bowstring, let it fly in a parabola toward the enemy. He’d only intended it as cover fire, but it was a lucky shot—one of the monsters took it in the chest and stumbled to the ground.

Several of the enemy archers returned fire. Parn raised his shield to protect his face.

“Sylph, spirit of wind…” Deedlit called out to the wind elemental, who created a gust of wind on her command. The arrows suddenly changed course and buried themselves harmlessly in the ground.

Deedlit took the lead position, expanding Sylph’s influence to protect more of their soldiers.

Parn hurried over to her. “Don’t push yourself too hard,” he called out.

“I’ll have Sylph handle the archers,” Deedlit called back. “Shouldn’t you be looking for other enemies?” She gestured with her rapier—Parn followed with his eyes, only to see Kashue, the mercenary king, at the front of the Knights of Flaim. He was boldly slashing his way through the enemy ranks.

“Whoa,” Parn whispered, awestruck. Kashue’s skill with the sword was even more impressive than the rumors had implied. Every swing of his blade felled another enemy. The knights at his back were all stalwart veterans of the long war with the desert savages and kept pace with their king.

“We can’t fall behind!” Parn called out to his soldiers as he spurred his steed onwards. “Follow King Kashue—the enemy is fleeing!”

“Good to see you alive!” Kashue called to Parn, pulling his horse to a stop. A few of the desert knights were wounded, but none had died yet. Two of Parn’s squad had been killed by the dark elves, but the others had all made it through unscathed.

“There were fewer dark elves than I expected,” Kashue said with a wry smile. “The others must be having a rough time.”

“Then we must clear this area and go assist them,” one of the knights replied.

“Indeed,” Kashue responded. “We have nothing to fear from a few dark elves. Cut through them and finish this quickly. Follow me!”

Parn rode alongside Kashue at the front. Enemy arrows rained down on him, but he felt no fear—being near a true hero like Kashue made him feel safe and powerful. He knew he could push past his own limits, basking in the aura of such a magnificent warrior.

Deedlit’s elementals were doing their jobs, deflecting all of the enemy’s arrows into strange trajectories that didn’t come close to hitting their allies.

Suddenly, several balls of fire appeared ahead. As they watched, the fireballs took on the shape of lizards.

“It’s Salamander, the spirit of fire! Watch out, it breathes flames!” Deedlit called out in warning.

Parn readied his shield and galloped up to one of the fire lizards. The sword in his right hand glowed pale blue.

“Is that Slayn?!” he cried in delight at his glowing blade—his wizard friend had enhanced his sword with a spell.

The glowing blade sliced cleanly through the salamander’s torso as he galloped past—the fiery monster vanished without even a wisp of smoke.

“Charge!” Parn held his sword out and galloped at full speed. The salamanders’ flames had knocked several knights off their horses, but the rest plunged into the enemy ranks, routing them.

“Attack while their ranks are disrupted! Have faith in Pharis’s divine protection!” Etoh called. His battle-priests were clustered behind the knights, closing in on the enemy, supporting their allies with holy magic but also pushing forward hand-to-hand with their maces.

“I’m exhausted,” Slayn panted next to him. “Running like this right after casting a spell? I’m not gonna last.”

Etoh glanced over, then paled when he saw how badly Slayn was doing. He called over one of the fitter priests and quickly directed him to attend to Slayn. The priest laid a hand on Slayn’s body and began praying to Pharis—at once, Slayn’s heart beat slower and his breathing evened out.

“Pharis magic sure is handy,” Slayn commented, impressed. “Thank you, I feel much better—and they still need me.” With no hesitation, Slayn raised his staff and cast an ancient spell. He shook his staff to the side once, and several of the enemy fell to the ground.

“Is that the old standby sleep spell?” asked Etoh.

“Yes. I’ve learned that these little spells are often more useful than the larger ones. In a melee, one inattentive moment can be fatal,” Slayn mumbled as he scanned the battle around him.

Etoh agreed. The formations of both armies had crumbled, melding into a massive melee. A short distance away, Parn and Deedlit could be seen wielding their swords side by side.

Etoh couldn’t help but smile, thinking of how far his strong, dependable friend had come.

“This area is clear!” Kashue’s voice boomed above all the other noise. “Head south to assist King Fahn’s main force. Reassemble the formations. Those of you on foot—don’t push too hard, you won’t be able to fight if you wear yourselves out running. Cavalry in front, then the battle-priests and wizards. Heavily armed infantry will take up the rear. Only drink water on the way—you’ll fight better if you’re a little hungry!” With that, the fighters began their march through the trampled farmland.

The enemy army’s right flank—already destroyed by Kashue’s army—was likely a decoy. Most of the dark elves were in the left flank, where they’d quickly wiped out Elm’s army. Elm himself had fallen to the blade of a dark elf assassin.

That triumphant enemy had charged through the decimated left flank to join the battle in the center, and they had given their side the advantage—until Kashue’s army arrived. Evenly matched, the field was plunged into absolute chaos…

 

4

 

It was no holy battle. Soldiers on both sides fell dead, one after another—pure, unending slaughter.

Two kobolds ran at Parn, half-crazed with fear. Parn crossed swords with them and dispatched the pair quickly. Looking down at their corpses, words escaped him despite himself.

“This is terrible.”

Parn and Deedlit dismounted their tired horses—they were panting hard and caked with mud and the blood of their enemies. Etoh and Slayn were still with them, but most of the battle-priests and mercenaries were scattered across the field. Even Parn understood that there would be no victor in this battle. Only Death would be left smiling at the end.

Dimly, he wondered when it would be his or Deedlit’s turn to fall, staining the ground red with their blood, just like those poor, pathetic kobolds. He shuddered at the hopelessness of it all. Even so, every time he spotted another enemy, his sword swung practically on its own, in search of fresh blood.

Just then, he caught sight of King Fahn from afar. The king had dismounted, and he and a few Royal Guards were facing a throng of goblins. Beyond him, Parn could see a warrior in red armor with the crest of Marmo emblazoned upon it.

The red-clad warrior was clearly no mere mortal.

“King Kashue, there’s King Fahn,” Parn called out.

Kashue had abandoned his wounded horse and was fighting with his longsword in both hands. There were only a few knights of Flaim left around him—some had surely been slain, and the rest had been separated from their master in the chaos.

Kashue followed Parn’s gaze. His stern expression softened for a moment at the sight of Fahn, but then his eyes widened in surprise.

“That red armor… That must be Beld,” Kashue muttered and ran toward Fahn.

Parn pushed past his exhaustion in desperation to follow the Mercenary King.

“King Fahn!” he cried, slashing through goblins and kicking them aside to reach the lord he’d sworn fealty to only yesterday.

“Parn! It’s good to see you safe—and King Kashue, as well.”

“I’ve survived, somehow,” Kashue answered, knocking down one of the hideous monsters. “I’m glad you’re safe, Your Majesty.” Kashue slew the last goblin, then drew near to Fahn. “Emperor Beld is over there.”

“I noticed.” Fahn replied, biting his lip as he watched the red shadow’s slow approach. There was a faint smile on Beld’s mouth—and for a moment, it seemed that even the black blade in his hand wore a satisfied grin.

“That’s…Emperor Beld?” Parn almost felt like he was being crushed by the Emperor’s menacing aura.

Beld was getting closer—close enough that they could have run over to fight him, if they chose. Parn considered it for a moment, but Deedlit blocked him and shook her head.

“Don’t get yourself killed. We don’t stand a chance against him.”

Slayn agreed—he urged the people around him to step back, and prepared some defensive spells.

Parn nodded, not because he didn’t think he could win, but because this was clearly a battle between kings.

“We finally meet, Fahn. I haven’t seen you since the end of the demon god, hm?” Beld’s voice was calmer and more refined than Parn had expected.

Fahn held up a hand to stop Kashue in his tracks. He took up his sword and stepped forward.

“I suppose not,” he replied, the holy sword in his hand glowing with a pure white aura, the shield carved with the silver cross held high. He closed slowly on Beld.

“Ever since we fought side by side, I’ve wanted to see how we would fare against each other. I feel lucky to be your enemy now. We can fight to our hearts’ content.” Beld edged closer to Fahn, swinging the tip of his great black sword back and forth to gauge his timing.

“I never felt the same,” Fahn replied. “It’s a strange twist of fate, facing you like this, and I wish it weren’t so. But I’ll accept the challenge anyway.” He pointed his blade at the sky and saluted Beld. “Nobody interfere!” Fahn shouted, then without a pause he leapt forward, swinging his sword sideways.

Beld saw the attack coming at the last moment and swung his sword from the shoulder like a bolt of lightning. The force behind his strike seemed like it would crack the earth—but Fahn simply blocked it with his shield, drove the blade back with a heave, and swung toward Beld’s torso once more.

With an eerie metallic sound, the blade struck Beld’s armor, making sparks fly. Beld let out a small grunt. Fahn’s sword tip had cut into the armor, but there was no way to tell if it had even reached his body.

“Not bad, old man!” Once more, Beld attacked with all his strength, the giant blade like a black whirlwind slashing through the air. But Fahn ducked right under, barely seeming to move.

As the duel progressed, loud murmurs erupted from both armies. The pair crossed swords over and over, the sound of steel clashing on steel resounding through the air.

Just watching was practically overwhelming for Parn. Their skills were well matched, and neither fighter seemed to hate the other. They almost looked like close friends sparring.

“King Fahn and Emperor Beld have always been opposites in action and philosophy,” Kashue whispered to Parn. “But I hear that they were once trusted comrades in arms. Fate may have made them enemies, but maybe those feelings haven’t changed, even now.”

“I agree,” Etoh said quietly. “Emperor Beld doesn’t seem truly evil to me. I believe his heart is pure—I can’t help but think that Karla is behind all of this.”

“Wort said that they both want to bring lasting peace to Lodoss, even if their methods are different,” Slayn murmured. “That vision of peace is a threat to Karla. If she’s the reason for this battle, that makes this an even greater tragedy.”

Even the slain goblins strewn at their feet were piteous. If they had stayed in their caves, they would never have met such violent ends.

The whole battleground was still—Fahn and Beld were the only things moving as far as the eye could see. Few had survived to watch.

Fahn was slightly more skilled with the sword, but he was an old man, and as the duel stretched on, he began to reach the limits of his endurance and strength. Beld, though, was kept eternally young by the demon sword. As Fahn started to slow down, Beld’s strikes began to get past his shield, hitting his armor with a dull clank every time.

“No…” Kashue groaned, and almost took a step.

One of Beld’s guards drew his sword and pointed it at him in warning. “Are you a coward, to interfere in a duel?!”

Kashue froze—King Fahn’s honor required it.

“King Fahn!” Parn cried in anguish. Kashue had glanced toward the guard, but at Parn’s cry, he turned back to the duel.

The sight was heartrending.

Fahn’s sword was deeply embedded in Beld’s left shoulder, the wound dripping red. Beld’s sword had pierced Kind Fahn’s breastplate so deeply it had speared the cloak on his back.

A moment later, Fahn pitched forward in a slow collapse.

“King Fahn!” Parn cried again and turned to the man in red armor with hatred in his eyes. “How dare you?!” he screamed, and ran at Beld with his sword in hand.

But the warrior who had stalled Kashue was in Parn’s way—otherwise, Parn would have been slain by Beld in one stroke. The other guards who’d been watching used Parn’s attack as a signal to rejoin the fray.

“I am Kashue, King of Flaim! Beld, Emperor of Marmo, I am your next opponent!”

Beld had been staring impassively at Fahn’s corpse, but at Kashue’s challenge, he turned to the man with a faint smile.

“I accept,” he said.

With no further warning, Kashue slashed shallowly at Beld’s red armor.

“Is that all?” Beld asked, ignoring the attack. He swung his coal-black blade down at Kashue’s head with ease.

Kashue dodged at the last moment and attacked again—his blade tore easily through Beld’s armor. Kashue felt his sword sink into the muscle of Beld’s left hip.

“That’s quite the enchanted sword,” Beld commented, with no indication that he felt any pain at all.

“Not as fancy as yours,” Kashue replied. His longsword had been forged in the days of the ancient kingdom and was enchanted to slice through armor like paper.

“To think that a man like you was Fahn’s sworn friend,” Beld snorted.

“You think you know me?!” Kashue said. “I respected Fahn, I cared for him. I couldn’t be a holy king like he was—just simply a king, going wherever my talent can take me. But I will never be a demon king like you!”

Kashue swung his longsword nimbly, putting pressure on Beld with his unending onslaught. Beld blocked each strike with his jet-black blade.

“You have some clever tricks, but all this jumping around—are you sure you’re trying to defeat me? Or are you just showing off for your guests?”

Kashue’s face stiffened at Beld’s words. Beld used the opening to counterattack, lunging for Kashue’s throat. He barely dodged, falling over backwards to avoid the blade.

Kashue rolled smoothly back to his feet and thrust. Beld had taken a step forward with another giant swing—but he stopped just short of being impaled on Kashue’s blade, having noticed something out of place at the last moment.

“My audience enjoys a good comeback.” Kashue smiled fearlessly, withdrew his sword, and reset his stance.

Beld lowered his blade in kind. “Was that little tumbling trick supposed to fool me?”

“You assumed you knew everything about me from my sword, but there is more to me than what you see. I am proud of my whole life. I don’t hide where I came from.”

“You’re a more interesting man than I suspected. But after a battle with Fahn, this fight holds no excitement for me.” Beld rotated the shoulder that Fahn had stabbed—it hurt, but it was nothing he couldn’t endure. His left leg still supported his weight.

“Lucky for me. I’ll just slay you and add that to my list of kingly achievements,” Kashue said, holding out his sword horizontally in front of him.

“Good.” Beld raised his sword above his head in both hands. “This would be boring otherwise.”

“I will end the age of heroes. I want my people to live pleasantly boring and uneventful lives,” Kashue said and struck at Beld like lightning.

He had already seen the way Beld fought. The man’s strength and intuition were superhuman, and his sword moved like a wild beast. Every movement was powerful, heavy, and precise—he didn’t need finesse. But Kashue could tell that his own movements were just a tiny bit faster. And his sword’s enchantment meant he didn’t need to swing forcefully—a light touch would slice through his enemy’s armor.

Extending his elbow and flipping his wrist made a weak strike, but the point of his blade would move quite quickly. In his mind, Kashue could see himself evading the black blade and chopping Beld’s head off. He could practically see how it would go.

But then, as if reading his thoughts, Beld sped up.

So, he had another trick up his sleeve. But Kashue was ready to die. And at this rate, he was sure that he and Beld would end up slaying each other. He suspected Beld knew that that was the most likely outcome, too. A thought flashed across Kashue’s mind—dying here would mean he’d be called a hero, just like King Fahn and Emperor Beld.

But it was not to be. Out of nowhere, a single arrow struck Beld deep in his left shoulder. It knocked Beld’s sword off course—Kashue dodge it with a hair’s breadth to spare.

Their eyes locked. Beld’s pupils widened as he realized what was about to happen.

Guided by that look, Kashue swung. His blade sheared through the Dark Emperor’s neck and sent his head flying into the air. The headless torso collapsed on top of Fahn’s corpse.

“Your Majesty!”

The warrior Parn was fighting stopped when he saw Kashue’s final blow.

“Kashue, King of Flaim, you coward!” the warrior cried, voice dripping with contempt. “My name is Ashram! Remember this—I will make you pay for this someday!”

He walked over to where Beld’s head had landed, picked it up, then turned and began leaving the battlefield, the other guards following close behind.

For a moment, Parn considered attacking Ashram, but threats aside, he just couldn’t bring himself to strike a retreating enemy from behind. He sheathed his sword. Ashram had been a fearsome foe, and Parn had barely held out against him. Defending was all Parn had been able to manage before their fight was interrupted. Parn felt pathetic. He knew he’d have to find a way to get stronger if he wanted to protect the people he loved.

Kashue walked over looking haggard and exhausted, all of his usual spirit gone. It seemed that even the Mercenary King had his limits.

“I’m so glad you’re safe,” Parn said with a salute.

Kashue sighed. “I defeated him dishonorably. That’s not how I wanted it to go, but that’s how it played out. I suppose my destiny will be my judge.” He frowned at Parn. “I know this will be an awful task, but I need you to deliver King Fahn’s body to Roid.”

Kashue nodded to Parn’s group, then said, “You know…getting to know you all is the only good to come out of this war. I hope you’ll visit my country when you get the chance. I would be happy to welcome all of you.”

He fell silent for a moment to honor the two dead heroes before him. Then, without another word, he turned and began to lead his remaining knights on the long trek back to Flaim, where another war awaited them.

Twilight was descending on the battlefield. Parn stared dumbfounded at the corpses of the two heroes, vaguely aware that their deaths were truly the end of an era.

“I can’t forgive Karla for this,” Slayn growled—none of his companions had ever seen him so angry before.

“This is exactly what that witch had planned,” Etoh commented with a scowl. “Marmo and Valis are exhausted, and there are civil wars going on all over Lodoss. Despite the influence of Pharis across the island, it will be a long time before there is any peace here.” He set his mouth in a determined line. “But that is the task before me. I’m going to help Master Genart rebuild Lodoss.”

“You’ll do it,” Deedlit said with a nod to Etoh. Then she turned to Parn and wrapped him in the tightest hug she could. After a second, Parn hugged her in return, rubbing her back gently—and struggling to breathe in her vice-like grip.

Then he let out a scream, a single word, “Karla!” That one word felt like a release for all the sick emotions swirling inside him. His voice carried across the battlefield, but there was no one left alive to hear him.

The sun was setting, bathing the ground in another layer of red.

“I heard that Elm is dead,” Slayn said simply, wondering who had survived the day. “But what of Marmo’s court wizard, Wagnard—does he yet live?” With Beld gone, they had no idea what would happen to Marmo…nor what Valis would do without Fahn. The entire future of Lodoss was chaos.

“Let’s go home,” Deedlit whispered to Parn, her voice full of tears. “Roid will be safe. Let’s regroup there. I just… There’s too much sadness here. Even the sight of these goblins laid out on the ground is sad. I know that if they came back to life, we’d have to fight them again, but right now…I only wish they’d get up and start moving.”

“Mm,” Slayn agreed, voice gentle. “We should go back, Parn. We’re still alive, and the living can do more than the dead. Let’s return and deal with the aftermath of this battle however we can.” Slayn couldn’t help but frown. He wondered if this was really what he’d wanted.

It made him think of his old friend. He’d been so certain of the divide between absolute good and absolute evil. But there was no justice left in Lodoss now. Evil didn’t exist; it was covered in a grey curse forced to maintain eternal equilibrium. Parn’s scream had expressed exactly what Slayn wanted to say.

“Karla.” Slayn shivered as he whispered the name. “I will never forgive you. You shouldn’t even exist.”

 

They carried Fahn’s remains back to Roid. The Marmo army had also attacked the capital city, destroying and pillaging parts of it. The city of Roid was mourning to begin with, but the news of the death of their Hero King, their symbol of justice, seemed to turn sadness to despair. The only kings of Lodoss were disorder and chaos.

Genart, high priest of the Pharis Temple, took on the role of defending the public for a while. He released the riches and supplies of the temple to aid the victims of the war.

This gesture did much to keep the country together. Though the windfall only stretched through Roid and its surrounding areas, it was enough to keep Valis from falling apart.

Parn and his friends had much to do. Warriors, wizards, and priests were in great demand. Deedlit, Ghim, and even Wood­chuck all pitched in to maintain public order in Valis.

Before they knew it, a whole month had passed. Valis eventually calmed, and by the time the smiles had returned to the residents’ faces, the group had disappeared like they’d never been there at all.