The Death of Superman

The first thing I saw as my feet touched ground onto Fayne soil was devastation.

My eyes grew wider and wider the more my gaze darted left and right. All around me, there were signs of a recent battle.

Only last night, this spot, located in a grove of trees below a hill to the rightmost edge of the Darah army's own command hill, was a campsite we'd set up for the Foolhardies and our new allies. It was fine when I left for Mudgard at dawn. But now, mere hours later, tents were on fire, supplies lay scattered about, and bodies piled up on top of each other.

My first thought was wondering where Luca was in all this mess. My second thought was relief that Aura had spent the day with me on Mudgard. She wasn't around for whatever happened here.

The only reason I didn't go immediately crazy was that I noticed how many of the bodies weren't wearing our unit's midnight blue colors. Many of the dead wore gray armor.

A popping sound filled the air as more Foolhardies viseres joined me on the ground. Almost immediately, there was a surprised outcry from one of the new arrivals.

"W-what the hell happened here!" a man yelled in surprise.

I recognized the voice. It belonged to Alfie Monroe, our unit's main cook.

Some viseres joined him in voicing out their confusion. Others looked to me after they noticed me standing among them.

"C-commander… what do we do?" asked a bearded middle-aged man with a scar over his left eye.

No, it didn't feel weird at all when adults asked me what to do. I was used to it. And yes, I am being totally sarcastic right now.

All my viseres were looking at me. Some of them, like Alfie, had frightened looks on their faces. It was kind of disappointing.

The thought of whipping them up to shape when dealing with crisis was something I had to keep in the back pocket of my mind for now. I had other things I needed to worry about.

"Look for survivors and gather what rations or equipment you find," I instructed.

To their credit, the crowd dispersed immediately to follow my commands. This left me some time to consider what kind of disaster occurred while I was back on Mudgard.

"Could the enemy have launched an attack during the day?" I wondered out loud.

On my peripheral, I saw a hand shoot out of the rubble to the right. I quickly rushed toward it while yelling, "We've got a survivor! Get me a medic!"

I would have asked for a healer if there were any fairies around but since only humans were presently walking around, a medic would have to suffice. And it just so happened that we had three medics among the viseres.

I reached the outstretched hand first and held onto it. The drow who owned it looked up at me with bloodshot eyes.

"Y-you're late… Commander," Enna whispered through cracked and bloody lips.

"You're okay, Enna," I said soothingly. "We've got you now."

Thom's cousin looked like she'd survived one hell of a scuffle. the deep cuts on her arms and thighs were slightly burned around the edges, telltale signs of a shadowblade's work. Dark blood continuously trickled down a grievous wound underneath her right breast. It might have caused her death if we hadn't found her in time. I worried that we were still too late.

I glanced left and then right, taking note of the six Magesong bodies surrounding Enna. She must have taken them down before she went down.

"I'm so glad you and your cousin are on our side," I said approvingly

One of the medics arrived to provide first aid to Enna. Her name was Sasha Grayminster, a twenty-something nurse with long, pink-dyed hair and a constant smile on her pretty face.

Even after seeing how badly Enna was hurt, Sasha kept on smiling. She even promised Enna that she'd fix her up right away.

I stepped aside as she set to work, pulling bandages, salves, and ointments out of her workbag—items she used to provide first aid to the worst of Enna's wounds.

Once, I'd asked Sasha why someone like her, who hated fighting enough to refuse to carry a weapon even in a battlefield, came to the Fayne where war was a constant occurrence. She responded with, "I want to help people who can't be healed by modern medicine… learning from the fairy healers who can even save the critically wounded, well, that's my dream."

Watching her work now to save the life of one of our own, I felt my chest grow with pride. Again, I was confronted with proof that not all humans who visit the Fayne are in it for selfish reasons.

While Sasha continued treating Enna's wounds, I took the time to ask about what happened to the Foolhardies camp.

"M-magesong bastards launched… surprise attack… during daylight," Enna explained.

Enna's face reddened as she spoke. Her eyes cringed in pain while Sasha continued to work on her.

"T-they went after… officers… Y-your brother… h-he — Argh!" Enna howled in pain.

"Sorry-sorry!" Sasha blurted. "You've got a broken arrow shaft imbedded inside you… I have to take it out or the wound will fester," Sasha glanced at me, "Commander, please hold her still."

The thought that something bad might have happened to Luca made my movements sluggish, but I did as Sasha asked and held onto Enna's shoulders.

Sasha offered Enna a piece of rolled-up cloth "Bite down on this…"

Enna bit down on it. She looked up at us and there was fear in her eyes.

"It'll be okay," Sasha cooed. She caressed Enna's cheek. "Ready? On three. One-two—"

Sasha didn't wait for three. At two, she plunged her hand into the wound and used her fingers to feel for whatever shrapnel was stuck to Enna's insides. Obviously, this made Enna scream and scream.

"Geez, Sasha!" I hissed.

"Sorry-sorry! Sasha's hand continued its search inside Enna's wound. "Almost got it!"

Enna thrashed underneath me. Her eyes bulged in obvious pain.

I wasn't squeamish. I'd seen enough dismembered body parts to feel almost desensitized by excessive gore. But there was just something about seeing Enna look so defenseless that made my insides churn violently, nearly making me puke.

Enna expelled one final gasp of pain before finally, mercifully, passing out. And as if on cue, Sasha pulled out her hand, bringing with it a charred arrowhead and inch of shaft.

"I got it!" she said happily.

"Y-yeah, good job," I managed to say despite my nausea.

Soon after Sasha finished treating Enna, the bearded visere came to get me.

"We found him by the command tent…" he said solemnly.

I followed him to the fallen command tent and to the gathering of viseres who'd formed a loose circle around a hulking kneeling form. The closer we got the more certain I was that I knew who the figure was.

Shaqs, our bashful troll, knelt on the ground while surrounded by a heap of dead Magesong soldiers. The blade of his war ax lay impaled on the chest of the dead troll in front of him.

I walked closer. The crowd parted to let me through. And it was only then that I noticed that Shaqs' eyes were closed.

Alfie was kneeling beside him. Tears streamed down his face. He had a hand resting on Shaqs limp left arm.

I remembered that the two of them joined the Foolhardies at the same time. Because of this, and Shaqs' unusual dietary requests of hob meat, the two of them had gotten really close. I even remembered telling them off once for fooling around during training.

Shaqs had saved my life more than once during this war. In fact, I planned to promote him soon. But I would never get to do that now. There were too many sharp things stabbing into him. A troll's great sword had even pierced his gut. No doubt, a mortal wound. Possibly the one that finally defeated him. Nothing less could have stopped the bravest troll I'd ever met—a true Superman among Foolhardies. No. I would never get the chance to thank Shaqs for his service. He was already dead.

Alfie's sobs raked at my chest like poisoned claws that turned my blood cold. It was heartbreaking to hear.