Martyrs

A silent night.

It was disrupted by the deafening noise of explosion and the roars of soldiers who ran towards the base of their enemies.

As the moon bore witness to the event, the cold winds slowly gave off more chill, causing the rustling branches of the dry trees to sway and crack continuously. All of these sounds were drowned by the march of the soldiers, though.

They closed in on the building and began their sacred mission—the purge of life.

Cults were not uncommon in this era, and members of such religious groups were regarded as subhuman heretics who deserved nothing but death and the punishment of eternal damnation for their blasphemy.

And so, as the soldiers ventured into the damaged building, they brandished their blades and began to slay anyone in sight. Just as they expected, the Cultists were nothing more than peasants who were inexperienced in the art of combat.

They didn't require a lot of effort to kill the unarmed scum—many of whom whimpered and begged to be spared. They were even deluded into believing that their deity would come to save them, whispering prayers addressed to a certain 'Lord Mors'.

The soldiers found all of this to be amusing, though.

None of them could understand why any of these people would turn away from the teachings of the Church. Why would they die for their false beliefs, clinging onto a blasphemous faith that would send them to eternal ruin after their death?

It made no sense to them! Apparently, powerless peasants would believe anything as long as it made them feel special.

"That's the last of them." The lead soldier muttered, looking around to see nothing but a sea of blood and corpses. There had to be at least ninety to a hundred people who perished, and all of it happened within the span of minutes.

"Just to be sure, the ten of you should circle back and check."

The chosen soldiers—though a little taken aback by a colleague of the same rank commanding them—nodded and marched out of the old building, glad to take in fresh air instead of the pungent odor that naturally wafted in the air as a result of the bloodshed that had occurred.

The rest made a silent assessment of the situation and hid their frown.

The 'head' soldier was not in any way a position of authority among their ranks. It was simply a position given to the soldier who directly attended to a Knight or superior in a small army or squad such as this one.

He had no power of his own and simply spoke on behalf of the superior.

However, since this head soldier had gotten 'close' to the Knight leading them, he now wielded unofficial power that even his fellows recognized. As a result, even though it left a bad taste in their mouths, they had to listen to him.

"What about the rest of us? Shouldn't we investigate a little? Just in case there are hidden soldiers, a trap door, or something of the sort?" One of the soldiers asked after a few seconds of pure, uncomfortable silence.

The others agreed, nodding to themselves as they raised their feet to look around.

"There's no need for that." The head soldier answered. "They are zealots who have no strategic acumen whatsoever. You saw how they reacted, even when being killed. Swine like that can't put up a fight against us… so don't bother."

"B-but, just in case—"

"Sir Lido told me all of these things personally. Are you saying he's wrong?" The head soldier said. "Because taking these unnecessary precautions means you're doing just that."

"I-I would never!"

"Sir Lido's words are correct, of course!"

"Let's just wait for him! He'll tell us our next course of action…."

The head soldier grinned as soon as he saw the reaction of his colleagues. He already knew what they were trying to do by investigating, but he wasn't going to let them have their way.

'All of them are trying to prove their worth to Sir Lido, but I can't have that. I should be the one who gets noticed by him, which means I can't let them outshine me.'

While they were still, he would covertly take a look around in the name while pretending to be looking for his missing coin—or whatever excuse he could spring up. As long as he was the only one doing something worthwhile, gaining the recognition of the Knight was only a matter of time.

'Just you watch! I will leave you all in the dust soon enou—h-huh? What's that?' He turned his head as soon as he heard a creaking sound.

It came from behind him.

'Hm? Did I mishear?' He asked himself, but almost as soon as he was about to dismiss what he heard… the sound came again.

It came from beneath.

The wooden flooring that covered the old building was old, so moving around on it caused creaking sounds. However, no one was moving, and there was definitely no one standing where the sound was coming from.

That could only mean one thing.

'There's a hidden floor beneath this one, and someone is there!' The head soldier grinned widely.

The mere fact that he had made this discovery put him ahead of everyone else. That meant Knight Lido was going to acknowledge his skills and—if he was lucky enough—take him as an Apprentice.

'If I work hard enough, maybe I could also be a Knight too!'

As his eyes shone with greed, he turned to look at his fellow soldiers, planning to call their attention to it so it would be evident that HE was the one who discovered the hidden floor and not any of them.

"All of you, there's—"

~CRASH!~

A pale hand suddenly burst through the old wooden floor, causing splinters of wood to fly around.

'W-what?!' The head soldier's face began to leak out beads of sweat the moment he saw the hand that emerged from beneath the floor.

Or, more specifically, what the hand did.

'The wood flooring is old… but not that old. How could someone just break through it that easily?' He thought frantically. 'M-maybe it was softest in that place. A hollow chamber… ah, yes… that's what it is.'

If the wood that was broken through had a much slimmer and lighter constitution than the rest of the flooring, then it was possible for a human to shatter it if they put in enough effort.

There was only one problem, though.

Secret chambers usually had an entrance that mimicked the rest of the flooring, so they wouldn't easily be found out by visitors or intruders. That meant the chances were high that the wood that had just been broken through was as dense as the rest of the flooring.

'What in the world am I thinking? These are foolish peasants! Scum with barely an ounce of intelligence! They probably built their secret chamber wrong and that's why the wood was so brittle!' The head soldier told himself in a hurry.

He forgot to consider that the chamber had not been noticed by anyone despite the skirmish and chaotic slaughter that had happened. Surely, if it was so brittle, it would have already been broken as a result of the commotion.

None of that registered in his head, though—at least, not at the time.

"Get ready, everyone! It looks like we'll be having another round very soon!" As the head soldier said this, everyone brandished their blades and focused on the pale hand that was now withdrawing very slowly.

After a few seconds, though, a clicking sound echoed in the silent room.

Other than the bated breaths of the grown men who froze in place, no single sound could be found in the room.

Then—

~CREAK~

—The damaged wooden surface opened up, revealing a hollow crevice within.

Just as the head soldier suspected, it was a secret entrance that led to an underground space.

Before any of them even had the chance to look at the thick wooden surface that now had a gaping hole in it, a figure emerged from within its depths.

A pale… very pale figure.

He had pitch black hair that danced behind him as he lifted himself out of the darkness beneath the ground, with a perfectly toned body that put the muscular bodies of the forty soldiers present to shame.

His face was mostly hidden due to his dark hair covering a portion of it, but they could see a purple glow hidden in his partially obscured eyes. Despite their best efforts not to look, they also noticed the monstrous size of the appendage that dangled between his legs.

Once again, it put the rest of theirs to shame.

"Huu…" Misty breaths proceeded from the lips of the pale man as he exhaled.

He stood still, perfectly calm. With very little movement, he looked around—seeing all of the carnage that had been wrought.

Ninety dead bodies, or perhaps a little more than that, lay lifeless laid bare on the ground. The dirty clothes that they wore had sucked in the blood around, giving them a dark crimson luster. Even the soldiers had bloodstains on their armor and swords.

In this dark and dreary place, the only one who was perfectly clean was the pale one.

"There's no need for us to exchange words, but… I can't help my curiosity." After keeping the soldiers waiting for what felt like hours without end, the man finally spoke.

His deep voice caused all who heard him to shiver.

"Did you kill these people?"

"Y-you've made a mistake in your question. Those aren't people!" The head soldier blurted out, breaking into a nervous smile. "They are swine… rats… filthy mongrels. Calling them people is an insult to good men like u—"

"It's fine." The pale man raised his hand, almost as if he was a little overwhelmed by the information.

"It seems you are one of them! That means you're going to suffer the same fate as them very shortly."

"It will be best for you if you surrender. We might consider granting you a painless death if you tell us how many more of your kind are hiding down there."

"You can beg for your life all you want, but you're still dying here!"

As the soldiers said all of these things, they pointed their blades at him and took their stances. The man had a well-toned build and gave off an intimidating aura, but that was all there was to him.

He was not only unarmed, but also vulnerable and alone.

They could easily dispatch him, even if he was somewhat skilled at fighting. Collectively using that logic, the soldiers glanced at each other and nodded—signaling one another to advance and attack at the same time.

Before they could take a single step forward, though, they heard something strange.

A chuckle.

"Hehe… hehehe…"

The pale man was chuckling, even while being surrounded by forty armored soldiers with weapons.

—The same soldiers that had just killed over ninety of his fellows.

"Death… dying… what does it mean?" He whispered. "Spare your considerations. How many of my kind are down there? Ahh… I can tell you the answer for free."

He took one step forward.

"There are none."

"Y-you think we are just going to believe that?"

"Cocky bastard!"

"Enough talk! Let's kill him! Rush him at once!"

The soldiers were done conversing with a heretic. Talking with swine was as pointless as trying to fetch water with a basket.

In the end, their kind deserved nothing but merciless death.

"Kill me, huh…?"

~CLANG!~

~CHINK!~

~SKREEE!~

As the blades of the soldiers met their targets, they all bounced back—almost as if the edges had met an incredibly dense armor.

The naked, pale man remained unharmed even with their combined assault.

"... I don't think so."

Horror instantly filled the faces of the soldiers as they watched the man take another step forward. This time, they retreated with two.

"The only ones dying here are you." With a whisper, he became a blur and reached out for the head soldier—the one closest to him.

Before the man could even offer resistance, he crushed his head—skull and all—causing brain matter to spill all over as his limp dead body collapsed to the ground.

"I'll make it as painless as possible."