30 Day Septiplier & AntiDark

Day 22: In Battle Side By Side

Septiplier (Gladiator AU I created a storyline myself, not the picture though)
The smell of death, dirt, and blood was unbearable. The battlefield was covered in dead bodies that no one dare pick up for fear of being killed by a spare arrow. There was one brave soul though, who never seemed to sleep and kept fighting on and on. His name was Mark the Heart Stealer, there are two reasons why he was called this.
One: he always aimed for the heart of his enemies.
Two: The man was incredibly handsome. Skin was dark tan from decades spent outside training the day away. Hair cut shorter than most men would cut it, yet falling in soft waves just above the neck. His eyes were dark brown, a scar over his right one due to a training session gone wrong, the color of cocoa with hints of an even deeper tone that stole the hearts of ladies straight away.
And that is why he stole the heart of a man named Sean McLoughlin.
The spunky Irishman was often called Jack on the battlefield. His real name not matching the way he researched on defensive and offensive moves behind the scenes, and fighting like a lion on the battlefield. His hair was oddly graying out in some places for a man of 26 years of age.
But that made him even more of a mystery as an opponent to Mark.
The blue of Jack's eyes were the last thing people saw before their lives ended on the bloodied field. He had thick eyebrows and a rounded out nose that made him seem feminine yet masculine all the same. He was known for being tricky, an acrobat and sly with his defensive moves.
Oddly enough, he wasn't the leader like Mark was on his side of the battlefield. Yes, Jack was on the European's side. And yet Mark was fighting for the North America. Why were the two continents fighting?
Well, when the European princess falls in love with an American man while courted to marry a Prince so soon, a war broke out. The Prince being the second in command to the princess's father, the King. The American man had stolen the King's daughter away and had told his ruler of their tale. The princess was always wanting to be free, and the American man had shown her just that.
The leader of North America was the one and only, Mark Fischbach.
The European side had advanced overnight and snuck into the leader's kingdom, killing everyone that they could, before reaching the widespread palace that Mark had lived in. Mark's wife had been awoken to the sound of screaming outside their door only to open it up and get grabbed by a thick muscled gladiator. Mark had immediately awoken and dashed out of bed to watch as the gladiator stabbed deep into his wife's belly, the sudden cry that Mark made as he dashed forward caught the gladiator's attention only to let the dead body in his arms fall to the floor. Mark yelled curses and launched towards the gladiator with a sword from beside his bed. The gladiator let out a cry of pain as the helmet fell off, showing the European underneath. Mark's eyes glinted in the darkness as his sword had created a long cut on the man's cheek. The two shadows froze, staring eye to eye for a couple of moments. The tip of the sword was so quick that the gladiator didn't see it coming until the gush off blood from his outstretched hand made him freeze and look down as his hand had suddenly gone missing, the sight of it dropping onto the floor making him gag before screaming out in horror and turning to run. Mark panted, heart and head becoming filled with grief as he stared down at his bleeding out wife who lay as if she might be asleep on the floor. Mark fell to his knees and cradled her the rest of the night while letting grief get itself out to be replaced with hatred after they took her away from him the next morning.
He, after seeing his lover killed in front of his own eyes by a man who called himself Yamimash, vowed for revenge. He had hoped the son of a bitch had bled out somewhere, yet wanted to kill him for himself. To see the look in his eyes as he would get his heart stabbed, like he had done mentally to Mark.
His lover having been married to him for three years, and having told him the day before that she had been pregnant had made him even more rage filled, declaring war immediately after he had grieved for his unborn baby and wife.
So there he stood, standing over a man with a fake hand and a long scar up his cheek, pleading for forgiveness as Mark stood stoic as ever. Yamimash started crying tears, grabbing onto Mark's foot and sobbing while pleading.
"Pitiful. You ask for forgiveness...yet you will be given nothing but the painfulness of death as you bleed out. My kingdom has barely anyone left. My wife and unborn son never deserved it until they were old and had nothing to live for. But you....you Yamimash...will die and go to hell."
The sudden begging and tears had stopped and those small eyes raised up to meet Mark's as the glinted a blood red for a couple of seconds. The American leader then pulled back his sword and got ready to plunge it into the heart of the shaking murderer in front of him.
But a flash of blue and brown collided into Mark and made him stumble. Yamimash choked on his own air before staring as Jack had knocked Mark's sword out of his hand. Jack stared back at Yamimash and yelled out for his comrade, "Get back to base! Now!!!"
All attention then returned to Mark who had used those precious seconds to knock Jack's arm out of position and make his sword go flying. Jack then cursed before throwing in a punch to Mark's cheek who quickly dodged and swept out his foot to knock Jack off his feet. The Irishman quickly twirled out of the way and back flipped to his sword. Mark watched, slightly amused by this thin man before running over to grab his own sword. Jack panted slightly as Mark and him circled around each other.
"I see you don't know who I am?" Mark inquired, seeing as Jack made his moves calculated.
Jack only shrugged with his face slightly confused, "Should I?"
Mark laughed before lunging forward as Jack did, sword matching Jack's offensive move for move, "Of course! Your comrade, Yamimash?"
Jack grunted as he held Mark's sword at bay, "What about 'im?"
"He murdered the American's wife yes?" Mark was intrigued that this man didn't break a sweat as he dodged a roundhouse kick.
The Irishman panted slightly as heat started to bury into his heavy armor, "O' course, he's a legend. Also a failure," Jack collided with Mark, studying for weak spots, "Why mention him?"
The older suddenly knocked Jack's sword out of his hand once again before pointing the tip of his own sword at his Adam's apple, "You ruined my revenge. That man killed my wife, half of my kingdom, and my unborn child. I'm your opponent's leader. Mark the Heart Stealer."
Jack gulped before staring into Mark's eyes and seeing truth, "Then you better watch out for that arrow."
Mark blinked before groaning as an arrow pierced his shoulder, making his arm fall along with his sword. Jack immediately grabbed his own sword along with Mark's that had fallen onto the ground as he pulled out the poorly made material that was lodged in deep. "Let's get ya' off the battlefield. I'm takin' ya' as a prisoner."
Mark looked at Jack, pressing a hand against the bubbling wound, pain lacing his body and making him wince. "And if I say no?"
Jack snorted and pushed him with the tip of his sword, "I have yar' weapon. You have no chance."
Mark only laughed before putting two fingers in his mouth and making a sharp whistle.
Jack's eyes then darted around the place, not once looking behind him which was a mistake. Mark only grinned as he waved a hand in goodbye before a sharp pain collided with Jack's skull and he blacked out.
Bob caught the body that was in the act of falling and looked down at him, "Prisoner eh?"
The dark haired man across from him nodded before feeling dizzy, "Need to get back to camp. Got shot in the shoulder. Feel...woozy..." Bob blinked and then started whistling while watching as Wade dashed across the battlefield and caught Mark just in time.
Wade groaned under Mark's weight before the two men rushed back to camp with their leader and his prisoner.