A long sigh, one of relief, was released from the man’s mouth as he stood up from the ground, a crumpled body lying at his feet. His face was splattered with drops of blood but it was purple. A broken shield, snapped into half from repeated impact laid on the ground beside the corpse. The two of them had arrived at this clearing atop a hill through a dimensional portal. It was a last ditch attempt to escape, opened by the one now lying dead in the ground. The man was Zamza Mock, one of the last few High Envoy of the demon Drakodun.
Ten years ago, Drakodun had arrived on the planet Athea and within a year, had already left the entire planet in ruins. Countries, governments were destroyed. Humankind was split into two factions, those that had chosen to forsake their dignities and embrace their new overlord while the remaining twenty percent of the population had formed the rebellion. For the past ten years, the war had between the forces of Drakodun and the rebellion had been fought continuously. The rebellion had always been on the back foot. They were outnumbered. And in a world that had progressed along the rails of technology, the mystic powers that Drakodun had granted his followers had left the rebellion outmatched.
They could only escape whenever an Envoy appeared on the battlefield and pray for a swift death when it was a High Envoy.
Until the rebellion finally found their key to victory. Despite years and years of being pushed back, the rebellion forces had never given up on their experiments to create the ultimate super soldiers, to fight back against the High Envoys. The tides of war had turned abruptly when twenty super soldiers had descended upon the battlefield, fighting toe to toe against the mystic powers of the Envoys and High Envoys with their raw physical capabilities.
“It’s finally over,” the victor exclaimed to himself as he looked down on the corrupted human. The rebellion had taken the fight to the Temple of Drakodun himself, the demon himself abandoning his conquest when he saw it no longer possible to win, leaving his followers to face the wrath of the rebellion. And so began the slaughter.
Splitting up to hunt down the escaping Envoys and High Envoys, the bearded man had chased after three targets, the last of them being Zamza. He had unhesitatingly jumped through the portal after the High Envoy, wanting nothing more but to kill him, even if he was leaping into hell itself.
Looking around and merely grunting when he realized the portal back to Athea was gone, the man was just about to start figuring out what he had to do now when he realizing something was wrong.
No, it wasn’t that something was wrong. Something was familiar.
Brows scrunched and gazing around intently, the bearded man held up his arms and looked at his hands. His eyes widened in surprise, a glint of glee flashing by in his expression as a thought entered his mind. A long, forgotten thought that had never thought would be possible ever again.
His hands trembled from the excitement before he quickly balled them up into fists to keep them steady. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply before letting it out again in a long draught.
“I’m back,” was all he said before running down the hill. There was tremble to his voice, emotions welling up in his throat. An energy that he had never expected to experience again coursed through his entire body, increasing his already enhanced speed as he barreled through the branches and trees in his way, arms crossed in front of him.
“This is it. The feeling! I’m really back!!!” And this time, he shouted.
By sheer luck, the portal had led to Fiore, and it wasn’t too far away from Era. As he walked through the roads, soaking in the city, its buildings and its people, memories began flooding back into his mind. And as those memories returned to the surface, an excited smirk at the corner of his mouth could no longer be hidden.
It had been ten long years. Ten years of longing and searching for a way back home. And it was fate that brought him back. But what he did not know was the decade he had spent off planet was merely one year here.
He didn’t normally shed tears, but the corners of his eyes were wet when he finally stopped his steps and stood in front of the grandest building in the whole of Era.
The Rune Knight Headquarters.
Dressed in a full-body combat suit that had seen better days, while sporting a full beard and moustache with messy and dirty blonde hair, the man ignored the piercing gazes that people were giving him and stepped right up to the main entrance. He had already cleaned himself up on the way here, doing the best he could. At least he wasn’t walking around covered in blood anymore. He pushed it open, his smile growing slightly wider when he saw Valorie at the reception desk and walked in straight without missing a beat.
His voice was gruff, and he had to clear his throat twice to ease the choking sensation before he could even speak properly.
“Hi, may I know if the Field Marshall and Director is still Serilda Sinclair and Mythal Ragnos?”
[904 words]
Ten years ago, Drakodun had arrived on the planet Athea and within a year, had already left the entire planet in ruins. Countries, governments were destroyed. Humankind was split into two factions, those that had chosen to forsake their dignities and embrace their new overlord while the remaining twenty percent of the population had formed the rebellion. For the past ten years, the war had between the forces of Drakodun and the rebellion had been fought continuously. The rebellion had always been on the back foot. They were outnumbered. And in a world that had progressed along the rails of technology, the mystic powers that Drakodun had granted his followers had left the rebellion outmatched.
They could only escape whenever an Envoy appeared on the battlefield and pray for a swift death when it was a High Envoy.
Until the rebellion finally found their key to victory. Despite years and years of being pushed back, the rebellion forces had never given up on their experiments to create the ultimate super soldiers, to fight back against the High Envoys. The tides of war had turned abruptly when twenty super soldiers had descended upon the battlefield, fighting toe to toe against the mystic powers of the Envoys and High Envoys with their raw physical capabilities.
“It’s finally over,” the victor exclaimed to himself as he looked down on the corrupted human. The rebellion had taken the fight to the Temple of Drakodun himself, the demon himself abandoning his conquest when he saw it no longer possible to win, leaving his followers to face the wrath of the rebellion. And so began the slaughter.
Splitting up to hunt down the escaping Envoys and High Envoys, the bearded man had chased after three targets, the last of them being Zamza. He had unhesitatingly jumped through the portal after the High Envoy, wanting nothing more but to kill him, even if he was leaping into hell itself.
Looking around and merely grunting when he realized the portal back to Athea was gone, the man was just about to start figuring out what he had to do now when he realizing something was wrong.
No, it wasn’t that something was wrong. Something was familiar.
Brows scrunched and gazing around intently, the bearded man held up his arms and looked at his hands. His eyes widened in surprise, a glint of glee flashing by in his expression as a thought entered his mind. A long, forgotten thought that had never thought would be possible ever again.
His hands trembled from the excitement before he quickly balled them up into fists to keep them steady. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply before letting it out again in a long draught.
“I’m back,” was all he said before running down the hill. There was tremble to his voice, emotions welling up in his throat. An energy that he had never expected to experience again coursed through his entire body, increasing his already enhanced speed as he barreled through the branches and trees in his way, arms crossed in front of him.
“This is it. The feeling! I’m really back!!!” And this time, he shouted.
By sheer luck, the portal had led to Fiore, and it wasn’t too far away from Era. As he walked through the roads, soaking in the city, its buildings and its people, memories began flooding back into his mind. And as those memories returned to the surface, an excited smirk at the corner of his mouth could no longer be hidden.
It had been ten long years. Ten years of longing and searching for a way back home. And it was fate that brought him back. But what he did not know was the decade he had spent off planet was merely one year here.
He didn’t normally shed tears, but the corners of his eyes were wet when he finally stopped his steps and stood in front of the grandest building in the whole of Era.
The Rune Knight Headquarters.
Dressed in a full-body combat suit that had seen better days, while sporting a full beard and moustache with messy and dirty blonde hair, the man ignored the piercing gazes that people were giving him and stepped right up to the main entrance. He had already cleaned himself up on the way here, doing the best he could. At least he wasn’t walking around covered in blood anymore. He pushed it open, his smile growing slightly wider when he saw Valorie at the reception desk and walked in straight without missing a beat.
His voice was gruff, and he had to clear his throat twice to ease the choking sensation before he could even speak properly.
“Hi, may I know if the Field Marshall and Director is still Serilda Sinclair and Mythal Ragnos?”
[904 words]