The Legend Begins (VIII)

Chapter 228

Senna forced several packs of weapons together, alighting them in faint tint of silver, as a spearheaded blade erupted from within the mist, striking downward with an eclipsing force and torching the barrier of sound into smithereens. The blade dug out a cone-shaped crater extending good two hundred yards, simultaneously acting as the tomb for over twenty unfortunate souls who were unable to even react to the attack.

This attack was the last straw; the same armored guards that arrogantly strolled up to the compound's walls less than fifteen minutes ago had all-- or at least what few were left of them-- turned tail and ran with all their might. After all, the sight that they were leaving behind was truly one for the horror stories. Corpses were strewn everywhere, not one whole, blood running about like tiny streams, disemboweled organs decorating the cratered streets.

Everyone paused abruptly, staring at the front; their expressions, past the initial shock, were ones of dismay, mostly, unlike Qyne's whose was ecstatic.

"That's... it?" Emma mumbled. "Shit!! I didn't even break a sweat! What the fuck, people?! Come back, please!"

"I thought it'd be an epic battle," Jamal grumbled. "That... was just... lame. So, so, so fuckin' lame. I don't even wanna brag about it. "

"I didn't get a single healing skill off..." Yuki mumbled.

"..." Lek merely sat in silence, but his pouting face told of the deep-seated discontent in his soul. After all... he'd done nothing the entire battle. Just watched from afar.

"This... can't be it, right?" Senna pleaded with the winds. "I mean, I knew we won't be getting the short end of the stick, but this is... just... sad. No, it's probably just a build up. Hey, let's go chase after them! They're probably leading us to the next part of the quest where we fight one or another mighty sage of the King and by defeating him or something we weaken the King and help Cain take him down."

"I think this battle broke Senna," Jamal commented. "She always puts up a pragmatic front, but it's completely cracked now. She's in full-blown denial."

"... nah," Emma eventually sighed, shaking her head. "We'll wait here. J', get out some booze. I wanna drink 'till I forget."

"Better get all my kegs out then..."

"Why? You planning on doing the same?"

"... touche."

Kramer stared solemnly at the ruins of a recent battle, hundreds of dead strewn about casually, broken weapons, armor pieces, shields, and even bodies lying everywhere within the bloody carnage of reality. This was hardly the only such sight his group had encountered -- rather, it was sixth in the short span of three hours. The battles were occurring throughout the entire city, and though subdued through the nature of magic, the core brutality could not be hidden.

Accompanying him were Daniel, Sigmund, Taima, and Sebas. Their group was tasked with the 'clean-up'; Daniel would stealthily move around the city and look for the recently-finished battles, whereupon the five would ambush the victors and kill them, depleting the overall number of contenders in the game. Though extremely cowardly, Kramer hardly cared much for it. Of the five, in fact, only Sebas seemed to show a slight sense of reluctance to it.

As a former soldier, Kramer understood that acting honorably wasn't a weakness, but rather a necessity to maintain humanity within the inhumane conditions. However, there also came a point past which honor couldn't salvage reality, and brutal, bloodily practical methods needed to be employed.

"Found a new one," Daniel sprung from seemingly nowhere, but the group was already used to it, reacting rather meekly.

"How many?" Kramer asked.

"A much bigger group," Daniel replied with a frown. "It looks like it was an overwhelming victory. There were around 300-400 left, not to mention that I didn't dare get any closer because one guy looked super dangerous."

"We'll leave them alone," Kramer made the decision immediately. "They're likely one of the main contenders. The plan's for us to simply weed out the fringe-flock. As for the high and the mighty... let them kill each other as they wish."

"A'right," Daniel said. "I'll look for another group then."

"Wouldn't it be fun, though?" Sigmund spoke as Daniel vanished once again, just like he appeared before. "We'd be like that '300' movie."

"You know how that movie ended, Sig?" Kramer asked.

"E-eh?"

"All those fuckers died," Kramer said. "You wanna die?"

"No."

"Then let's not do it like that movie."

"Aye, aye, aye... tsk, why you gotta be both smart and strong? People are you usually one or the other."

"... god, good think you were literally too dumb to use the internet properly," Kramer sighed. "You'd have been crucified years ago."

"Why?" Sigmund asked innocently, tilting his head.

"Nevermind... let's just keep quiet until Danny comes back with some news."

Swirling clouds of smoke were beginning to decorate the city's skyline, Cain noticed. From his own little tower, an invisible one, wrapped within the bubble of Mana some mile or so up in the air, he saw almost everything. Every battle, no matter how small or large. He saw Emma, Senna, and others easily dispatch dozens. He saw Kramer, Daniel, and others rushing from one battlefield onto another, having their pickings while avoiding the dangerous situations.

He saw armies of all sides collide and clash, retreat and recuperate, only to engage once again. All of it... appeared so mindless. The 'dead weight', as they called themselves, also thought so. Rather, unlike Cain's largely indifferent expression, others, especially Anna and Izirdul, were nearly in tears.

This was their home, after all; and those people were their people. Just a few months ago, many of those killing each other had likely shared a brew or two, spent an evening joking about one thing or another, or even called one another brothers and sisters for life. Yet, none of that remained. They were the blades, and blades were sharpened by the words of their wielders. Ruthless, cold, and calculating.

It all seemed so pointless--what was the bloodshed for, anyway? Who gets to own the Kingdom after? What will even be left of it? Thousands--nay, tens of thousands had already died, and it's all mostly been subdued, independent skirmishes. What about when the true war breaks out? Won't half the Kingdom die before someone gets to sit on the hollow throne and wear the harrowed crown while proclaiming themselves a King or a Queen to the despondent masses who couldn't care less as all their emotions had been drained from their souls due to the carnage?

"He must be seeing the same thing," Izirdul said, gritting his teeth.

"He?" Cain quizzed, taking a sip of beer.

"Eldur."

"Oh," Cain mumbled indifferently. "They all are, Izi."

"Huh?"

"It would be easy if we can just say our big bro is super-duper evil," Cain elaborated. "He's the villain, the primadona of bad dudes that's caused all this evil. It'd be easy to shovel and pin all this crap on him, demonize him, and then just kill him to save everyone."

"..."

"But... is he really the bad guy here?" Cain added, surprising everyone around him, including Sera.

"Of course he is!" Anna exclaimed. "He could have prevented all this! No, he instigated all of this!"

"Wrong," Cain shook his head. "Greed instigated all this."

"That..."

"What did he do, exactly? I mean, yeah, he went after your lives, and that won't win him any love points with me, but that's just power-grabbing nonsense. Whether he went after your lives or not-- no, whether Eldur was ever even born... this sight that you're seeing would have played out, eventually. It's a cycle."

"..."

"You'll get a short age when things are calm. There's a few rulers in a row that are relatively sane, or you'll get several warlords hellbent on expanding their empire as far as it will go. And, for as long as that goal is alight, a resemblance of unity and peace is maintained. However, eventually, it all crumbles. And you're left with this... the reality."

"..."

"Hundreds of thousands of unhappy and despondent, some few hundreds that control everything but always want to control more, and the few people in power thinking of eighteen million ways to maintain that power. It bubbles and boils and then... it erupts. Eldur, horrible though he may be, hardly caused any of this. He took advantage of it, yes. He stoked the fires, played the greedy, selfish, and self-interested nature of all living things. But all those who happily tossed their blades into those stoked fires deserve just as much, if not even more blame."

"So... what? Are you saying you'll leave him alone?" Sera asked, frowning.

"Oh, god no," Cain chuckled. "I'll behead him the first chance I get. I just wanted to warn you. Moral superiority... isn't a smart direction to follow in life. Don't think any of you are better than him. Instead, hope your character is strong enough to eventually endure the very same temptations that his could not. One thing I've learned in... quite a few years of my life, is that it's usually those hollering about right and wrong that are the cause of the most fucked up shit that ever hits the world. If you want the love of the people, never tell them they're wrong," Cain added with a wink. "Instead, tell them that if they do one specific thing, they'll be better than others. That way, you can get people to do everything... including murdering their own friends in the name of whatever horseshit you're selling them. And this, well, this is the endgame of all that. Enjoy... and learn your lessons well."

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