Shock was still plastered on my face as I saw the Emperor fall. My sword quivered in my hands, yet I still held it firmly. The battlefield was littered with bodies and bloodshed. I wasn't going to let this stop me.
I advanced to the first enemy I could find. With him, two others appeared. I endlessly fought, picking up a second sword at one point. I don't know how many I've eliminated, but there's still more...
How are there still more?! My arms feel weaker with every attack as the blades get dulled with every flesh wound. I keep fighting. If not for the Emperor, then for the freedom my people deserve.
It was when I took a moment to look around when I realized it: I was alone. They were all gone. Nonetheless, I will ensure that I am the last one standing on this plain. The Emperor's sword lay in a pool of red, gleaming in the sunlight. It was as though it were beckoning me to pick it up. It's handle felt odd in my hands. An item of royalty, in the grasp of a mere knight. Regardless, power surges through me. I have heard the legends of the Emperor's sword, and how it grants its wielder skills that match the god of war.
I held my glare with the leader of our enemy. His subordinates all slowly gathered around me, assessing my every move. The winds blew more violently, for we knew the gods were gazing upon this critical moment. Anger rose within me, which led to pure rage. I was going to slaughter every one of these oppressors, even if it would be the last thing I do.
Nothing can stop me.
YOU ARE READING
Book of the Unmentioned
Short StoryJust a collection of short stories/poems that I've thought of throughout the years.
