Enemy of The Gods

Prologue II

In between two vast cloud beds, the sun shone down upon the sea of downed horses and fallen men, which grew shallower the closer the army marched to the black, stone fortress.

The legion of several thousand marched in perfect rows, stepping over their beaten enemies. All were encased in shining steel armour, carrying spears, swords, red and gold banners, and matching shields.

Except one.

At the front of the force stood a man dressed in red robes with serpent-like golden patterns. He was barely an adult, with pale white skin, silver eyes and matching hair, which was tied up in a que.

As the consistency of corpses on the barren field became lower and lower, the horde of cavalry standing in front of the castle of darkness grew larger and larger.

The man marching at the front of the army came to a halt, holding up his right hand to his eye level, and at once, the army came to a thundering stop behind him.

The robed man faced the opposing force, shouting towards the castle.

"Please! Listen to me! This battle does not need to proceed!"

There was no response.

"Tell your king that he will not be harmed, that he will remain as a ruler under the empire, as long as the tyranny and corruption comes to an end!"

Deep within the crowd of mounted soldiers, a voice was heard.

"Never!"

A tear fell from the leader's eye as the massive horde of mounted men charged forward.

The steel army took a step forward, but not one more as their leader held up his right hand again.

As the large block of cavalry stampeded down the hill, they converged into a thinner triangle, the front barreling towards the lone man.

Still, he held up his hand, stalling his forces, the blistering sun nearly blinding his eyes as it glared down upon his white face. The entire enemy force drew into the gap of light as they continued converging towards the smaller army.

Finally, the robed man dropped his fist to his side, stomping on the ground. Strangely, instead of charging forward, his army began to back away, crouching down and shielding themselves.

The charging beasts sprinted faster as they drew within metres of the man and his army.

He remained unmoved, standing underneath the glaring sun, whose corners touched the clouds on either side.

The tear which had rolled down his cheek fell from his chin to the dry, cracked earth.

The man raised his palm, and a giant barrage of light blew away the entire enemy force.

When the man had opened his eyes again, the formerly massive opposing army had joined the ocean of dead men, but these corpses were much less whole. He looked away from the fruits of his labour, and the army marched behind him towards the black fortress.

Some enemy stragglers tried to run at the man, but he kept on walking without response, as the wisp of light which curled around him sewed through the foolish men and their horses. The beautiful flowing line gracefully danced around the battlefield at a swift yet smooth speed, bringing the lingering remnants of the once towering horde to their knees.

A giant, gaping hole was burned through the front castle wall where the army of cavalry had stood just moments ago. Stepping over the demolished bricks, the silver-haired man raised his arm again, parking his army in front of the keep.

The walls were enclosed around several dark stone-brick buildings with black arched rooftops. Surviving guards rushed down from the inner staircases which led up to the watchtowers atop the walls, holding out their spears. The flowing aura of light phased through their thick armour, felling multiple charging guards in one swoop, and returned to orbit the man after the threats were removed.

In front of the largest structure stood two heavily armoured guards, quivering as the man approached them, their comrades falling behind him.

The man raised his hand, and the string of light whipped towards him, becoming a ring around his fist.

"Please, I do not wish to hurt you, I only wish to speak to your king," he said. "I am sorry, enough damage has been done today."

The two guards looked at each other, and then both stepped aside, clearing the way.

The robed man smiled meekly, stepping up the stone stairs into the castle room.

Large stone statues and paintings enclosed the otherwise empty grand hall. The man stood at the large entrance which was open to the air, and on the other side sat an older man with black hair and a matching goatee, atop a black stone throne.

"King Yeon. This war has raged on long enough," the robed man said, walking closer. "I do not wish for your head on a platter. I have only come in order to free the Gaoleian people."

The king grunted. "Free them? You have taken this land from its rightful ruler. The kingdom of Gaolei has had a long history of oppression, and right when it seems our subjugation is over, you come along."

"You oppressed your own people. You enforced tyranny and corruption to maintain your power," the silver-haired man replied.

The king spit in the young man's face.

His eyes flashed from a bright silver to a glowing gold, but he shut them quickly, returning them to their former colour.

"I will give you one last chance to surrender," the silver-eyed man said. "You can still reign under my empire, as a beloved king."

The king scowled, leaning over the throne and staring down at the young emperor.

"You think you can rule over your people with benevolence, that you can keep these feuding nations together, but you'll see. They may think you a god now, but soon people will begin to despise you, they will rise up and turn into monsters and tear out the flesh of you and all those you love. Your enemies will grow stronger, and those closest to you will scheme for any opportunity to turn and replace you. You'll have to please criminals and tyrants, and when those are the only people left for you to turn you, they will murder you in cold blood, just as you—"

A bright flash of light filled the room, and the king's headless body slumped over the side of the throne.