Ch. 1: Burn This City Down

He walked along the streets of Misurat as if he knew what he was doing, but in truth, only a part of him knew. It had taken him years of leveling up and honing his skills as a [Dark Warrior] to finally reach level 200. He was now ready to take down the cause of his distress, the root of Nima's suffering, which was finally within his grasp. He was determined to put an end to it.

As he neared the castle, its imposing metal walls reminded him of the metallurgy that Misurat was renowned for. The castle was a formidable sight, even though it belonged to his enemies. Its walls, made entirely of gleaming metal, were polished to a high sheen that glinted in the moonlight. The Dark Warrior's torch reflected against the castle walls, but there was no need to even attempt to put the place on fire. The type of metal that Misurat was known for couldn't even be scathed by common flames.

He looked behind, and his companions glanced towards him with understanding shining in their eyes. They would fight until death claimed them or their enemies. There would be only one faction surviving that night, and the Dark Warrior hoped his would prevail.

He managed to reach the entrance to the castle where a massive steel door etched with ornate patterns stood.

"No guards," he thought with a frown, "Odd."

"Keep yourself on the lookout," he said to his companions, and looked up towards the castle walls. No archers or guards on the lookout stood there welcoming them. That made everything both easier and more difficult at the same time. It was easier because they could preserve their health and mana potions for a real fight, but it was hard because an attack could come at any time.

"Drazhan?" his most trusted friend called for him. Drazhan turned his head to face him. "I don't like how silent everything is."

Drazhan couldn't blame his friend for being cautious since he was a seasoned traveler and scout, not a warrior. However, they needed more people to threaten the people of Misurat, even though it seemed like there was no one to threaten after all.

"Spread out," Drazhan said, not liking the situation either. "And stick to the plan."

"Burn the city down to the ground, no matter what." He thought to himself. His companions didn't question him and followed his orders, spreading out around the alleyways of the city of Misurat like tree roots, the poor citizens lived in wooden huts easily flammable. Drazhan knew it wouldn't be enough to bring the city down, since only the slums were made of wood, but it should have been a good diversion and give Drazhan enough time to kill the royals.

Yes, people would have to be sacrificed, perhaps even innocent people. But it was a small price that had to be paid in order to take back what was once theirs. After all, he hadn't reached level 200 by gathering fish and berries.

As Drazhan approached the imposing door, it opened slowly. A figure emerged, dressed in golden armor that glistened beneath the moonlight. The figure wore a helmet with sharp features, and long arched ears detailed in gold, giving them a feline look. Drazhan didn't need to see beneath the helmet to know who the mysterious figure was.

Eseld Eunice Wisewind was wearing the royal cloak around her shoulders, a symbol of pledged alliance with the monarch and his people.

"How nice of you to come downstairs and welcome me," Drazhan said, opening his arms and enunciating each word slowly to buy his friends some time. Time was all they had against the mortal warriors of Misurat.

Eseld cocked her head to the side. Drazhan swore he saw a glimpse of what could have been a smile. "You always show up during my dinner, [Dark Warrior]. You and your people surely lack etiquette," she purred. Drazhan played along and walked towards her.

There was only one enemy that could stand a chance against him, and that was Eseld Eunice Wisewind, royal guard of the king of Misurat. She had reached level 200 an entire year before Drazhan. Reaching such a level with a mortal life was unthinkable, but the Wisewinds had it in their blood, having served the king down to the first generation of their kin.

"So, what do I owe this sudden visit?" she asked, looking up towards the sky. "It's quite late for his majesty to receive visitors."

"I'm here to put an end to this."

"Again?" She said, her stats looking just as scary as they did the first time the two fought.

╔════ Eseld Wisewind ════╗

Occupation: Royal Guard

Level: 200

Core: Paladin

Affinity: Wind

HP: 100,000

Mana: 10,000

╚════════════════════╝

Drazhan glanced back at his own stats making sure he had his HP at full capacity before engaging into a fight.

╔══════ Lord Drazhan ══════╗

Occupation: Fleet Commander

Level: 200

Core: Dark Warrior

Affinity: Fire

HP: 85,000

Mana: 20,000

╚═══════════════════════╝

She drew her sword, and the blade already began to catch the wind as she did so, costing her [1,000 Mana]. Affinities were dangerous and sometimes impossible to predict. The Wisewinds had mastered their affinity with their element for centuries and written down the secrets to hone it, passing it down to generations. Too bad for them, Drazhan had done the same with his own element. He lifted his great sword and, with a blow, used [3,000 Mana] to envelop his arms in flames. He didn't need a fancy armor like hers; his rags would do just fine. The fire spread from his arms throughout his entire body, creating an armor made of flames that didn't hurt him; they knew better than to scorch their master.

Eseld tensed her body, her sword drawn to her side as she did so. "You shouldn't have come," she gritted her teeth, gripping her weapon tightly.

"It's not too late for you to be on the right side of history," Drazhan said as he drew his own sword, a long sword engulfed in flames of a much darker color than his armor. These flames were black, like the pitch-black sky above his head.

"Don't make me laugh," Eseld said and then, instead of attacking him, she unexpectedly looked up. Despite his better judgment, he did the same. Embers were flying up from within the heart of the city, casting an eerie glow across the sky. The distant glow soon turned into a raging inferno, as black smoke billowed up from behind the castle, engulfing the entire city. The sound of crackling flames and splintering wood echoed in the air as the fire consumed everything in its path. Ashes and embers twirled around the castle and the two adversaries like dancing flames, casting an eerie orange light across their faces. Eseld was struck speechless as she watched her beloved city, the place she had sworn to protect, burn to ashes before her eyes.

She took off her cloak and lunged at him. Wind and flames clashed in a raging battle of swords, each annihilating the other. It was a deafening noise, a battle cry that echoed through the streets. The clanging of their weapons was in perfect rhythm, like a violent symphony that grew louder with each note. They moved around each other like two dancers, each trying to anticipate the other's next move. Sweat dripped down Drazhan's forehead, mixing with the soot and grime that had gathered there. His breathing was ragged, and the heat from the inferno behind him was almost suffocating. But he couldn't give up. The flames around his sword intensified, guiding him towards his next blow. This time, he had no intention of missing. He landed a hit on her stomach, the blade piercing her flesh. He didn't wait for her to summon her wind – he let the flames spread throughout her body.

╔══ Eseld Wisewind ══╗

HP: 50,000 / 100,000

Mana: 9,000 / 10,000

╚════════════════╝

Eseld screamed, surprised. But even as the flames consumed her and melted her armor, Eseld refused to give up. With a fierce cry, she summoned all the wind she could muster with her sword and sent it hurtling towards the Dark Warrior. The wind struck him like a physical force, knocking him back and extinguishing the flames around him, costing [2,000 Mana]. Breathless and bruised, Eseld stood her ground, sword at the ready. The Dark Warrior staggered to his feet, exhausted.

"What the fuck was that move?" He thought. He hadn't realized how many different moves Eseld had kept secret from him.

"I didn't know you learned party tricks," he said with a wicked smile on his lips. The two opponents circled each other warily, both knowing that this would be the final showdown. Both of their attacks dealt an insane amount of damage, so it was a matter of who would strike first. He still had his HP intact, while she had only half left.

They lunged at each other once more, swords clashing in a blinding flurry of metal. The [Dark Warrior]'s flames were stronger than ever, but Eseld refused to let them consume her. With each clash of swords, she summoned the wind, using it to deflect and disperse the flames that threatened to engulf her. The [Dark Warrior] was relentless, his attacks coming faster and harder than ever before. Eseld was starting to feel the strain, the effort of summoning the wind taking its toll on her. She was moving slower as the heat and smoke threatened to overwhelm her.

╔══ Eseld Wisewind ══╗

HP: 50,000 / 100,000

Mana: 6,000 / 10,000

╚════════════════╝

Eseld summoned all the wind she could muster with her [6,000 Mana] and directed it towards the [Dark Warrior]. He was momentarily caught off guard, and she used this opportunity to strike. Her sword found its mark, plunging deep into his chest – his HP depleted in front of him. He let out a roar of pain, but even as he stumbled back, he swung his sword towards her with one final effort. The blade hit its mark, slicing through Eseld's abdomen. She fell to the ground, her eyes fixed on the [Dark Warrior] who was now collapsing beside her.

╔═ Eseld Wisewind ═╗

HP: 0 / 100,000

Mana: 0 / 10,000

╚══════════════╝

╔══ Lord Drazhan ══╗

HP: 0 / 85,000

Mana: 7,000 / 20,000

╚═══════════════╝

"How does it feel?" she asked in between gasps. "To die?" Her eyes rolled back, and so did his. Truth was, he had died a hundred times before. It always felt different – the only resemblance between his deaths had been the silence around him. He would reincarnate into a new child, experience the world again, and then die – and be reborn again and again.

The [Dark Warrior] felt his consciousness slip away as his life slowly drained from his body. He closed his eyes, dreading dying and being reborn into a new body without any skills – bored of having to grind one more time to max level. Only his kind could be reborn, a kind that the people of Misurat had renamed as Ujaks. Being reborn and not maintaining his skills was bad enough,having to grow through puberty and become again the commander of his own legion was a different other story.

Yet he waited, and waited. Yet death did not arrive. Destiny had a different idea for him. This time, it was different.