1 Die First, Live Later

———

The General stood in front of an army. He wielded a black double edged sword, with a golden guard. He had silver hair and amber eyes. His features were above average, but there was a noticeably huge scar running down his head to torso.

He had an indifferent expression, radiating a certainty.

Behind him, were two men and women. Among them, was a large man in heavy armor. He asked, "Sir, what are our orders?"

The General spoke, "You four, leave."

A woman in the group of four people replied, "Why? What're you gonna do? Fight an army by yourself? I know you're strong but not even you can fight one this large.

The General sighed, "You doubt me too much."

Another one of his disciples responded, "Hey what do you mean? Didn't you promise that we would stay together till the end?"

Uncharacteristically, the General smiled bitterly "I'm sorry, but promises either come true or don't. I've been doing this too long."

The other woman asked, "Why are you trying to get yourself killed?? We could just retreat together."

The General said, "I'm tired. I'm feeling lazy, I can't stand another day of this. I'll end it now if it's the last thing I do.

They were bewildered by this behavior. The man in front of them had never shown even the slightest sign of weakness. He was someone inhuman, but here he was planning to fight an army alone.

"Just go. Please."

The group stayed silent. They stared somberly at this person who stood in front of them. It wasn't the General they knew and they were fine with it. They decided to put their faith in this change.

They simply went.

General breathed a sigh of relief, before a cold chill ran deep down his chest.

He pondered the countless more people he'd have to kill and the grief he'd cause.

He was familiar with war and hated it all so much. He knew the thrill of it, the grandiose ideals that led it, the endlessly grand and magnificent goals. He knew the truth and hated what it truly was. It was torturous.

He couldn't help but regret not picking a different path.

Contemplating his life, he couldn't help but think. Was this the right thing to do? Am I truly justified? No, he knew he wasn't, but it didn't matter anymore. It was either he had the people fight for another countless years or he destroyed everyone in his way and have it end now.

It wasn't good no matter what he picked, but he had to.

The army was slowly approaching. They saw it. A single man blocking their way. Until eventually, they reached him.

He fought with inhuman fury. Every attack killing near a dozen men. His terror unmatched by any other.

They realized who this man was immediately.

The opposing army tried everything. They brought out countless formations and strategies, but none were effective. They brought out magic. An ancient and difficult power. They made countless contracts using it. They traded their lives for strength. Yet it didn't matter, he dealt with them all the same.

The ground was painted in blood.

It was a large and filthy battle.

After countless slaughtered, six people remained. They stood together as the General stood across them. The air was tense. As the wind blew, they stood. The General was unharmed. Not a single cut, bruise, nothing. The only thing that has affected him was exhaustion, but he didn't show it.

The remaining commanders attacked him. One by one they fell. Until one commander remained. He readied his sword.

They met each other with blades, a battle on a field covered in red.

Suddenly, the sound of metal colliding stopped. The General pulled out another sword. A white one with a shorter blade

The General asked him, "Well, you aren't much stronger than those magic casters, but I still wonder, why are you so strong compared to everyone else?"

Taking out a giant sword, one that was larger than most people, the commander spoke, "Well, everyone else who was as or stronger than me, I'm sure you killed them already. That and demotion really isn't all that great either."

The General's dead eyes livened up a little, "Good luck."

The commander smiled and said, "First one to die buys dinner?"

"Sure, why not."

They met each other with their blades one last time, when the commander died, his chest having been pierced by two blades.

Standing there, General looked down at their corpse. His body had been cleaved into by the massive blade, with it havving gone past his collar, and embedding itself through his ribs. He though for a second.

"Fuck I could've just let them live." He sighed.

The General stood victorious. He looked across the field of dead. He stared down at his blood soaked hands. The world seemed infinitely darker and life seemed infinitely crueler.

"I'm tired.

He looked up at the blue sky. The world seemed so colorless.

Then he allowed death to collect him.

News traveled quickly. About how a great General ended the great war, by fighting and defeating an army. They erected a giant statue of him. They placed a stone plate in front of it. With the words engraved in it.

Good and terrible. This is a statue of someone who existed.

———

The General awoke. The commander was sitting across him smiling. They were in a bar. It was pretty nice. They had a few drinks. He felt different somehow. Then he fell out the door.