Chapter 2: The Knights of Tesma

The funeral for Thanatos lasted five days in accordance to the Great Labyrinth’s custom. Normally, they would do everything in their power to revive a creature they deemed worthy, but for an existence akin to a God, it was impossible with the guardians’ power. All that they were left able to do was grieve and mourn, all the while ponder the meaning behind their creator’s words.

Immediately after the funeral, the Elder Lich left the Great Labyrinth. His exit was swift and fluid; he did not bother to say his farewells to his comrades. Deep inside, there was a boiling hatred and resentment towards the other guardians. They were a mere teleport away from their master when the raid happened, but they did nothing to protect him.

If he was in the same position, ordered to stay still while their creator dies before them—would he comply? His mind was in turmoil as he tried to find the answer, and he found none.

Using numerous teleportation spells, he travelled from Kingdom to Kingdom, from mountain to mountain. Eventually, he arrived at the Qavan Mountain Range. It was the large piece of land that separated the Kingdom of Tesma and the United Grakas Alliance. At the same time, it was also the place where his Labyrinth was located.

“Rigar—I shall leave this place to you,” said the Elder Lich. He sat on his throne, with thousands of undead gathered before his dominion. Skeleton Warriors, Skeleton Archers, Skeleton Mage, Ghouls, Slitherans, Death Knights, Lich, Infernal Knights: All knelt down before his majestic figure. “I will embark on a journey in accordance with my God’s will.”

The creature named Rigar stood beside the Elder Lich. He was an Infernal Knight clad in flames, with a body that towered five meters. His thick limbs were reminiscent of molten lava; it was devoid of skin, and numerous patches of inferno continued to violently bubble inside. He bowed low then said, “As you wish, Lord Jiablu.”

Jiablu gazed over all the undead present. All were his creations. They were the result of his blood and sweat, of his vehement fervor to create a strong army to serve his God. And now, he was leaving them behind. For an instance, he felt a prickling sensation in his heart. Was it sadness? He could not tell.

After a wave of his hand, Jiablu’s figure vanished, leaving behind a vacated throne.

***

Jiablu stood outside his Labyrinth. The trees that surrounded him in all directions had dried and withered, and the smell of sulfur was pungent. The ground was reminiscent of a dead valley, with numerous cracks formed in all directions.

Where should he go? It was the question he kept asking himself the moment he heard of his master’s last will. If it took his creator hundreds of years to find his life’s purpose, then how long would it take him, a mere dust when compared to his God? He sighed as his nonexistent eyes peered beyond.

A mountain away from where he stood, he saw a village being ravaged by undead creatures. Smoke swirled upwards as the small wooden houses burned to crisp. He could make out the petite bodies of what seemed to be scorched humans. After a full second, he realized that he had ordered his undead to secure the area around his Labyrinth, and part of it was massacring the surrounding villages.

Without much thought in it, he decided to visit the blazing settlement. He lifted a finger and a split second after, his surroundings distorted and he found himself at the village’s gate. The meek partition was torn to pieces, and slabs of stones were thrown in all direction. Dead bodies of humans were scattered about. By now, he felt that the undead creatures had gone deeper inside the village, probably in search for surviving humans.

“H-Help!” a voice rang out. Jiablu glanced at the source and saw a child crawling towards his direction. He was probably in his early teens, around the age of eleven to twelve years old. Aside from the bloodied body, limp limbs, and torn calf, a distinct feature was the missing left eye. The remaining eye was closed, and Jiablu realized that the plea for help was not directed at him, nor was it directed to anyone in particular at all. It was the child’s last flicker; his last attempt to cling to life.

To Jiablu, an Elder Lich with unparalleled magical prowess, healing the child was as easy as breathing. If he willed it, he could even bring him back from the dead. But why would he do so? Such insects were unworthy of his time. He could not even suppress the hatred boiling inside him. They were lower life forms that tried to kill his creator numerous times before.

The Elder Lich pointed a finger at the child. He was going to obviate its existence here.

“God. In. Heaven. Please. Save. My. Sister,” the child mumbled. His chest rapidly rose then fell, and Jiablu knew that even without him doing anything, the child would succumb to its death.

Suddenly, a realization dawned to him. These lowly insects called humans, their lives were transient and fleeting. Would that not make them the most suitable race to learn from? They were weak, arrogant, disgusting and nothing but specks of dust, but they had something that he lacked: Mortality.

If he wanted to learn the purpose of living, then he would do well in learning it from a race with very limited lifespan. A race regarded as one of the weakest. A race that continued to live despite the severe lack of power. He stood in total silence as he pondered. He had decided. He would do it.

“Be honored, insignificant one,” Jiablu said. He lifted a finger and in an instant, the life in the child dissipated away like fog. Black miasma began to envelope the now lifeless body, and moments after, the corpse reverted into its perfect state. It had completely healed. Even the missing eye from before had returned to its former glory.

“I shall take over his body. I shall mingle with the lowly insects—and I shall learn from them,” he declared. The ground rumbled and malicious evil spirits screamed. Numerous apparitions began to manifest itself before Jiablu. Like an abyss, everything turned pitch black. His body distorted, and it darted towards the sprawled corpse of the child.

A second after the phenomena, the previously dead body began to move. It slowly stood up and dusted his garb. A child’s voice said, “This body is too weak… but it shall do for now.”

He heard clanking sounds and he furrowed his brows in response. He did not like what he was seeing: numerous undead, and they were hostile.

“They don’t recognize me, eh?” he mumbled. After taking over the child’s body, a large portion of his magic was sealed in order to prevent the shell from breaking down. At most, he could use only around a tenth of his original prowess, but he knew that it was more than enough to survive amongst the mortals.

One after another, skeleton warriors began to appear from the village’s center. His entire left side was filled with such undead to the brim. They pointed their rusty swords at him. All they saw was a puny human, weak and helpless.

After a sigh, Jiablu waved his hand, and the horde of undead monsters turned into nothing but ashes. He willed for a gust of wind to blow, and it carried the remains into the sky. Weak undead like Skeleton Warriors were disposable, and even the Liches inside his Labyrinth would be able to create one. He watched with indifferent eyes as the flickering flames continued to burn down the remaining houses. He had long confirmed that there were no longer any survivors in the village. The child was probably the last of them.

He heard the sounds of hooves clanking, and the ground rumbled. From a distance, he saw clouds of dusts swirl upwards. He felt disgusted when he saw hundreds of cavalry soldiers heading towards the village. Humans, all were armed to the teeth. A banner embroidered with the insignia of a rose and a shield flowed alongside them.

Horses neighed and the entire unit stopped. He heard a deep voice issue out commands. “Platoon 1 shall secure the perimeter! Platoon 2 shall search for survivors! The rest of you, follow me!”

One by one, the soldiers dismounted. One of them shouted the moment he saw the child that was now Jiablu. “Commander! A child! A survivor!”

A middle aged man with firm brows immediately came running. His limbs were as thick as tree trunks, and his armor was different from the others. Unlike the silver plate the soldiers wore, his was pure white, almost reminiscent of the topaz in his master’s tomb.

The commander halted right before the child. His ages eyes glimmered in jubilance. He heaved a relieved sigh then said, “Thank God! Thank God!”

Jiablu tilted his little head to the side. The man’s voice was close to crying. Why? Was seeing a mere puny human, a child at that, such a moving sight? He was unable to understand the rationale behind it. All he felt was confusion, and deep hatred that continued to boil. Still, he restrained himself. Unnecessary bloodshed was not needed right now.

Soldiers continued to search the burning village for any survivors. The commander asked, “Are you alright? What happened here?”

Jiablu just stood there like a statue, not bothering to respond to the question. The commander sighed and smiled in self-mockery. Why had he not thought of it before? The child was a victim of slaughter. He must have seen numerous villagers succumb to their deaths and he, an adult actually dared to ask the child what had transpired in the village. He bit his lips as he regretted the words he said.

“Commander! We’ve searched the entire village—,” a soldier said. His next words were whispered, “—But there were no other survivors. This child must be the only one remaining.”

The commander nodded once. He understood the implications. He stood face to face with the child and smiled. He softly said, “You are safe now. We will do our best to protect you.”

After he realized that the child had no intention of answering, he grabbed him and placed him on top of the mount. The horse loudly neighed after contact. Did the horse shiver? He stared at the mount’s feet. They were trembling.

“This place’s probably too hot for the horses. We need to get out,” he mumbled. He turned towards his men. “We are going back to the Kingdom. All men—let’s go!”

One after another, the soldiers mounted their horses. After a slap of their reigns, the mounts kicked the ground, sending dusts flying around. Only a few moments after, the scorching village had turned distant.

Jiablu rode the horse together with the commander. Beside them were more than a hundred mounted soldiers, fully armed to the teeth. The commander said to him, “Child, we are the Knights of Tesma. Worry no longer. We shall not let any harm come your way, no matter what. We promise you that.”

He snarled at his men, “We have failed to protect the village! We have failed to protect its people, but this child survived! To atone for our sins, we shall do our best to protect him! If we let so much as a scratch come to him, how could we look at our ancestor’s faces in the afterlife? How would we face God Aquina in the days of Judgment? Do you understand, soldiers?!”

In unison, the entire cavalry roared, “Yes sir!”