Chapter 11 - Into the Castle (1)

Chapter 11: Into the Castle (1)

Only the low crackling of blazing wood and stone echoed throughout Ankalen as the human army and the Royal Guards slid to a halt. In the space between the once-dwindling human army and the advancing Royal Guards lay a scene so utterly unthinkable, so much so that every member of the Royal Guard was caught off guard despite their training. 

The knee of a human, the very race they had spent two decades abusing at their whim, now rested firmly on the neck of their Commander. A mere human, one they had maintained in their own encampments, had grown in secrecy to a level on par with the strongest Swordmaster left in Ankalen.

Yet for the dozens of humans who stood at the front of the army, the scene was nothing short of a miracle. For what felt like hours they marched over the mangled, battered corpses of their brothers and sisters, ready to die at a moment's notice in the hopes that even one human could prevail. 

Yet just as they started to hear death calling their names and the viscous blood at their feet pulling them back like a torrential river, their leader descended from the skies, knocking down the devilish High Elf leading the charge against the revolution in a single blow. 

“Any last words?” Ralogolar asked as the stench of blood and burned stone filled his mouth.

Ralogolar lifted his sword off the ground as he spoke to the Commander, pointing its chipped yet ever sharp blade mere inches from the Commander’s eye. Although the Commander’s eyes twitched as he stared down Ralogolar’s sword, the very presence of fear had dissipated from his body. Had this situation happened on any other occasion, Commander Trasys might have been steeped in fear, however, the instant he processed Ralogolar’s threat, an inexplicable joy riddled his very being. 

A low, egotistical laughter emanated from the center of the battlefield as Commander Trasys’s back pressed firmly into the stone path beneath him. Callousness and ego filled each gasp of breath the Commander took, with every surface reverberating his laughter shaking imperceptibly. 

“Kekekeke… You don’t have the strength to take my life,” Commander Trasys cackled as a rapacious smile spread across his face. “Let alone the right to make such a threat.”

The very instant Commander Trasys’s words left his mouth, the sword hovering mere inches from his face plunged down, gouging through his right eye until it became a slushy mess of blood and torn flesh. 

Yet before the blade could pierce through to reach the Commander’s brain, an unexpected clang resounded throughout the muted battlefield. Slivers of shattered metal launched through the air as a sword whisked between Ralogolar and the Commander, shattering the sword lodged in the latter’s eye.

Ralogolar’s head turned to his left, watching as the sword that shattered his whizzed through the air as if it had a mind of its own. A fierce yellow aura that seemingly distorted the space around it emitted from the sword as it whipped back and forth through the air. Ralogolar was unable to maintain his gaze on the sword for longer than a moment, as a blunt pain jolted forcefully through Ralogolar’s leg mere seconds after his sword was broken, the very same leg that kept Commander Trasys pinned to the ground. 

The scene that followed could only be described as brutal, regardless of the side that was watching. After delivering a swift and painful punch to Ralogolar’s thigh, Commander Trasys sat up at an inhuman speed, using his rising momentum to punch Ralogolar square in the stomach without giving him so much as a chance to react. 

Yet the Commander’s retaliation did not stop there; as Ralogolar staggered backwards, clutching his stomach and holding in the urge to retch, the Commander landed a second blow of equal force upon Ralogolar’s face.

Blood spurted from Ralogolar’s mouth as he stumbled backwards, barely holding on to the handle of his shattered sword. Although he managed to hold his head high after receiving such blows, a high-pitched ringing pierced through his skull as his vision bobbed from place to place, rendering him unable to focus on the opponent in front of him. All the while Ralogolar’s stomach churned as if boiling over with acid, ready to eject its contents at even the slightest poke.

“You see!” Commander Trasys exclaimed, standing up off the ground with chips of metal clattering at his feet as they fell from the blade that was embedded in his eye. “You may have been able to take my eye, but the gap between us is wider than you could ever imagine!” 

As Commander Trasys spoke without so much as a hint of pain, the aura-shrouded sword whizzing through the air altered its trajectory, now rotating to orbit the Commander like an attention-starved puppy. Its yellow aura gradually shifted in color to a bright green as it landed gently in the Commander’s hand, its sharp and threatening nature doubling as his grip tightened around the handle. 

“Now, stand still you mongrel,” Commander Trasys dictated, taking his first step toward Ralogolar. “I’ll put you out of your misery right here and now.”

As the Commander continued to step forward, the world around Ralogolar only seemed to spin more and more. The pain that radiated from his stomach, thighs, and face was several times stronger than what his expression showed. As the pain coursing through his body slowly worked its way to consume his mind, the Commander stepped a little more than a sword’s length away from Ralogolar, blasting the area with a gust of wind that left a single clump of hair drifting its way across Ralogolar’s vision.

Its pale white color was unmistakable, and with only a singular glob of caked blood holding the clump together like putty, Ralogolar instinctively knew that the hair was his.

In that instant every cell in his body sent out a warning, not simply because of the Commander, whose sword was raised and ready to strike Ralogolar down in less than a second. Rather from something unseen, something around him that pricked and tickled every inch of his skin.

Yet the Commander’s sword came slashing down before Ralogolar could interpret what his body was telling him, as he only managed to dash out of the way with what little strength he could muster. Dirt and blood splashed across the humans as Ralogolar rolled into the depths of the human army, although none of it was his, his clothes and hair having been dyed red as if he was bleeding profusely from every pore of his body. 

“Running away?” Commander Trasys taunted, walking away from the aftermath of his previous assault. “I thought you were going to kill me, but it seems you’re just here to disappoint me!”

The Commander’s sword whisked through the air as he spoke, leaving a haze of heat along its path, as if the air around it evaporated upon contact. However, not a single glimpse of the Commander’s actions was seen by Ralogolar, his knee pressed firmly into the blood-soaked ground with each ragged breath he took. 

‘Damn it, I shouldn’t have let my guard down…’ Ralogolar thought between gasps for air. 

Despite the condition of his body, Ralogolar stood up amidst the crowd. Pain still coursed through his body like an unending stream with each movement he made, yet in the deepest reaches of his mind an urge of responsibility gripped his mind with an unbreakable grip. 

As he turned to face the Commander his gaze slowly caught the gazes of his fellow humans. Glimpses of worry. Doubt. Fear. Every negative emotion one could think of surrounded him, conveying a singular thought.

You can’t lose. Not here, not now.

With each gaze Ralogolar received the responsibility that gripped his mind grew stronger, numbing the pain in his body as the broken remains of his sword clattered against the ground. Before his body could begin to shrink, Ralogolar blitzed to the front of the crowd, grabbing a sword out of an unsuspecting person’s hands as he focused his gaze on Commander Trasys. In the corner of his eye a familiar scene flooded his vision; as the prickling sensation continued to spread across his body, a single clump of hair drifted slowly through the air, with the white strands slowly separating as the warm smoky air whisked them away. 

“Oh? So you decided to stop hiding after all,” Commander Trasys sneered through his toothy grin. “I’m surprised you’re still able to stand after taking such a blow!”

The sensation he felt and the scene before him set off alarms in the deepest recesses of Ralogolar’s mind, like a hornet waltzing into a bee hive despite knowing the torture that lies ahead. 

Ralogolar’s Skill activated once more as if it had a mind of its own; his muscles swelled with strength with each step he took, yet still the prickling sensation only grew stronger the closer he got to the Commander. Despite this, with each millimeter his muscles puffed out from their usual shape, the prickling feeling akin to hundreds of thousands of ants crawling and nipping at his skin dulling.

“What, cat got your tongue?” Commander Trasys mocked, egotistical cruelty overflowing with each word. “Have you nothing to say to your mortal enemy, you low-life cretin?!”

The scorching, resolute flame that burned inside Ralogolar’s heart grew into a raging wildfire with each word that escaped from Commander Trasys’s mouth. The ground beneath his feet began to crumble with each step as the feelings of pride and responsibility that remained in his heart turned to cinders. 

Leaving only the anger toward the High Elves in his body, or more specifically, the one now a mere sword’s length away from his face. For a brief moment, one barely noticeable by even the battle-starved Commander Trasys, Ralogolar’s eyes whipped away from the battlefield.

“I saw that you cur!” Commander Trasys snarled, swinging his sword wildly, aiming it at Ralogolar’s neck.

Commander Trasys’s sword tore through the air with a ferocity previously unseen, as if his previous attacks had been held back for the sake of his own entertainment. Yet Ralogolar remained unphased, as the fire within his heart spread steadily throughout his whole body as he raised his sword to block the cold unyielding sword aiming for his neck. Every ounce of strength in his body flowed slowly like magma spewing from the depths of the earth.

“You petulant vermin!” Commander Trasys hissed as the two swords ground together, flecks of metal and mana sparking in every direction. “How dare you try to hold back in a fight!”

“You talk too much, High Elf scum.”

Upon breaking his silence, Ralogolar deflected the clash against the Commander, knocking him backwards several steps in the process.

“So you finally speak, you undeserving rat!” Commander Trasys bellowed, maintaining his arrogant, egotistical tone. 

“Not for long,” Ralogolar replied cockily, taking a deep breath as his focus wavered from his opponent for a second time. 

With a single fluid motion Ralogolar flicked his sword toward the colossal breach in the castle walls, the tip of his sword pointing directly at the portion that still remained intact. 

“My brothers and sisters!” Ralogolar exclaimed, his voice booming across the battlefield, stretching even as far as the walls surrounding the country. “Join me in the fight to take the castle for ourselves! Spare no one in your path, and bring them all down!”

For a single moment after Ralogolar’s brief declaration, silence reigned with the exception of his echoing voice, only to be filled by thunderous laughter coming from the Royal Guards, with even Commander Trasys joining the commotion. 

Between the laughter and gasps for air there remained a gentle tremor in the earth below, at first entirely unnoticeable, until the very ground beneath their feet caused even their metal greaves to tremble. It was only after the trembling metal armor amongst the Royal Guard clambered louder than the laughter that all hell began to break loose.

Chunks of brick and mortar began to rain from above as the tremors turned to quakes, until the very remains of the wall above the initial breach crumbled right before their eyes. 

“My brothers and sisters, show them hell!”