Fists of Fate: Smashing Destiny fka (Strong Man's Wrath)

Chapter 9- The White Lotus.

He was dreaming again.

In the quiet seclusion of his mountain retreat, once hailed as a hero,he  found himself in a dream that transported him back to a time of conflict and chaos.

He didn't want to watch himself .

Amidst the thundering clash of swords and the deafening roars of battle, he stood on a blood-soaked battlefield. His every movement was grace incarnate, a seamless dance of deadly precision. With a single swing of his blade, he felled countless foes, their cries of defeat mingling with the tumultuous symphony of war.

As the dream unfolded, he witnessed the faces of his fallen enemies, now mere specters of their former selves. They stared at him with eyes filled not with anger or hatred, but with a haunting sadness. They were the lives he had extinguished, the families left in mourning.

The swordsman continued to fight, his every strike a testament to his unparalleled skill. But with each fallen adversary, the weight of his actions grew heavier. The dream was a relentless reminder of the lives he had taken in the name of victory, the countless souls forever scarred by the horrors of war. Human or not. They all had souls.

In the dream's culmination, he sheathed his sword, bringing an end to the battle. The once-raging battlefield fell silent, save for the soft rustling of leaves in the wind. He looked upon the ruined landscape, the cost of his actions laid bare before him.

He suddenly found himself in a nether worldly palace. He could only watch on as himself, his old self, made its way toward a throne where an human like creature with horns sat on a throne.

The being had a striking figure with ebony horns, pure skin, and fiery eyes. His sharp, handsome features and flowing black hair gave him an aristocratic allure. He wore regal attire adorned with gemstones, exuding power and authority. Despite his infernal origin, his devilish charm was  undeniable, capable of captivating even the strongest-willed individuals.

"Have your people finally told you to come for me, Lancelot?" The creature smiled with his head resting in his palms.

Lancelot remained quiet. He drew his sword and pointed it at the devil king.

The devil laughed and sighed before rising from his throne and walking to  the human.  He stood right in front of the sword and placed his head on the blade .

Lancelot closed his eyes tightly. His arms were shaking hard. He shouldn't do this, he couldn't do this. This wasn't the way. He let out a very of frustration and threw his sword away. The slim rapier clanged on the floor . He fell to his knees and began to cry . He wished he could cover his face but his hands were blood stained.

" Azra" He finally spoke. " There must be some other way. Without all this."

Azra smiled affectionately and  squatted to his level. He pushed aside Lancelot's long frost colored hair and lifted up his face.

" Even if there was, what about our children? They would still fight."

" We'll fix it! I know we can. The humans, I'll make sure they accept your people. I swear." Lancelot desperately negotiated, like a child trying to reason with his parents.

" Uhhh! " Azra whined. " You're taking the fun out of this." He rose up and looked at the red chandelier on the ceiling lifting his hand toward it.
" If someone were to kill me. I would want it to be you."

Lancelot wiped his tears with his hands and got back up.

"Besides I have nothing to live for." He dropped his hand and smiled.

"It's a fascinating irony, isn't it? The mightiest among us, entangled in conflict at the whims of the powerless. Picture an epic clash between a Sword Saint and a Devil King, all because the voices of their people have decreed it so. Such is the unpredictable dance of destiny."

Azra went to pick up Lancelot's rapier. He took a look at it and tossed it to Lancelot.

" Astrillium, huh? Not bad. That should work."

Lancelot caught the sword and got into his stance. He bent down and the aura of white light began to surround him. The aura was so strong that the palace and the surrounding areas began to shatter and crumble. With gentle tears falling from his eyes. He asked Azra.

" Azra? Do you think this would ever end?"

" Maybe. Leave that to the children we've done more than enough." Azra yawned and replied. " Now come Lancey hahaha."

"You're really selfish you know? Taking  the easy way out." Lancelot complained as his white magic began to double.

" You rather I destroy everything? Hurry up I have an appointment with After Life Travel and Tours after this. "
Lancelot took a deep breath and muttered, , " Signature Light Release: Pure White Lotus ."

For a split second everything thing was calm and  a white lotus fell from the sky
Lancelot burst at the speed of light. By the time the flower dropped , Lancelot already had his sword in Azra's gut.

"Thank you, Lancelot." He coughed up a mouthful of blood .

"..."

" What're you going to do now? Mm? You have no more excuses to visit this place."

"Something I've never done before."

"Oh?" Azra's eyes began to lose colour as he smiled, " I'll definitely be watching that." His lifeless body leaned on Lancelot's shoulder.

Lancelot couldn't hold back the warm tears, " Thank you, Azrakaroth. My best friend."

He embraced the demon once more and for a moment it seemed as if a happy tear fell from Azra's eye.
Lancelot hugged him tighter and gritted through his teeth .

" Fool. You said you'd never cry, again." Lancelot, laid his friend on the ground and began to walk out of the castle and out of the netherworld.

He severs his long hair with his rapier and leaves a wreath of white magical flowers by Azra's side.

And with that he left his friend's side. For a god-like sword saint who had ended the war, there was only one thing he hadn't done. But he had all time now.

Lancelot was going to ... run away.. from it all .

It was then that a single white lotus flower emerged from the blood-soaked earth, its petals pristine and untouched by the carnage. The sword saint reached out to touch it, and as his fingers brushed against the delicate bloom, a profound sense of peace washed over him.

Maybe the next generation would find a way. Whatever true peace was, they could achieve it better than he did.

The weight of his past weighed heavy on his heart, but the dream had offered a glimmer of hope—a chance for redemption and a path toward inner peace.

Lancelot, the 'blood-white' did not deserve a good life. Even his happiest dream was still a nightmare.

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...
Song for the chapter -

Kanye West- Wolves.

I basically did the whole chapter in italics just to add some dramatic effect. I thought I was cool.