Vanna's Blade

The Despicable Empire

The wind blew right through his black hair as he was walking towards the Empire with a blade in his hand, shooting an angry gaze towards all the knights in formation.

“You... you betrayed me...”

He kept on muttering to himself, donning an empty mask of an expression to cover up his seething rage. He grits his teeth and his grip tightens.

“You damn bastards...”

A large, threatening magical aura began to emanate from him. And he lets out a roaring battle cry that darkened the skies. Despite being heavily injured, with blood flowing down from his head and all over his body, and his waning strength, he charged towards the army... to which they answered with his execution.

Everyone he stood up against was nothing more but a pawn to the empire of Alria. And they were determined to stop this swordsman, no matter the cost.

They used every tactic at hand, even methods that should be beneath them, all just to defeat him. But he was agile, strong, and he had the tenacity of a fortress. No matter how much they tried, they were still unable to stop him from annihilating squadrons after squadrons of knights with each attack.

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The village was burning... and so is the world around them. The knights that had been so chivalrous and loyal to the purpose of protecting the weak were ruthlessly slaying every soul that they could see.

Amidst all this mess was a man who held a dying woman in his hands, haunted by the screams of people who are running for their lives yet they fail to do so.

They spared no one. Man, woman, old or young; they all had been wiped out. There are those who managed to flee, but the knights are hunting them down like cattle.

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“Is this the kind of Alria you wanted me to serve?! You are nothing but a bunch of heartless monsters at best! I'll destroy every single one of you, just as how you wiped out all those innocent people!”

The swordsman's rampage continued, mowing down all of the opposing knights who got in his way. But it was still an insurmountable feat to wipe out every single soldier from the Alrian Empire without being in harm's way. Hence, his injuries, and how he is held back by the pang of pain each time he moved his body.

But none of this hurt him more than what the Empire could ever have done to him and all the others.

But the strength of their army was undeniable. And more than several times, the swordsman was brought to his knees. It was only his willpower and thirst for vengeance that had fueled his rampage.

“That's enough.”

A commanding tone had shouted out from the distance, which stopped the swordsman from his tracks. The weakened swordsman's eyes widened as he looked at the figure that appeared in front of the army.

“... Zenroth... it was you.”

“Yes... yes, it was... it is me.”

Zenroth was the commander of the Alrian army, manipulating the Emperor from the shadows.

“You slaughtered all those people... what in the world is wrong with you?!”

“You expect me to explain my cause and ideals to a person that can't even comprehend nor listen to the voices of reason?”

“You expect me to listen to reason after all the voices of pleading that you have ignored?!”

“I see that it is pointless to even try to communicate with a man like you. I commend your bravery. But this is as far as you'll go... Lier Ironblood.”