Amaranthine

His sword was silent as it cut through the air. A perfect swing.

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Swoosh, Kadas’s sword made a sound as his vertical swing missed. His opponent was a man with ominous tattoos inscribed all over his face, mayhap just symbols that their cult found meaning in, mayhap a type of Extinct Formulae Magic. Regardless of whatever it was, Kadas was winning the fight. His missed attack had caused his opponent to lose his footing and now he was easy target. Capitalizing on that weakness, Kadas made a diagonal slash and it landed on the man’s body clean, ending his life.

Another stain of blood reddened Kadas’s white uniform. He had lost count on how many of those monster worshippers he had killed ever since the assault began.

The man’s body fell to the ground, forming a blood pool underneath him. Kadas’s blurry surroundings slowly regained focus; and outside noises started to intrude his solitary world. There were sounds of clashing blades, screams of terror, shouts of orders. Inside the monastery Kadas was raiding, there were more people with tattoos just like the man he had killed, and swordsmen wearing the same white uniform as he. 2 opposing sides.

Understanding that he was no longer occupied by his opponent, Kadas surveyed his surroundings, trying to figure out the situation and his next course of action. Right now, his comrades, all followers of the sword, was on equal grounds against the monster worshippers. Kadas could see that their sword skills were faring well with the spears their opponents were wielding.

Seeing the situation, his duty as a squad leader demanded that he should secure the assault’s objective: to capture the monster cult’s leader. If he could aid the sword saint who had gone ahead, and apprehend the cult’s leader, that would surely increase the moral of Kadas’s side and reduce the moral of the opposing side, further ensuring victory. In fact, Kadas was about to run deeper into the heart of the monastery, but his eyes caught sight of a comrade being surrounded by 3 monster worshippers with spears.

Anyone was subject to making hard decisions when they were in a battlefield, and Kadas was no exception. He could stop on his track, helping the one person who was losing to three men, and save a live. Or, he could focus on his objective, ignore the person, and ultimately saving the lives of more comrades by attaining victory faster. By logic, the answer was easy; by heart, it wasn’t. Kadas was forced to make a choice and he had no time to choose.

‘Tch,’ he clicked his tongue. Kadas looked at the path toward the heart of the monastery with eyes full of conflict and then made a dash—toward the person who was being surrounded by 3 spear-wielders.

He was enraged. Not because he found it a hassle to save that one person, but because he had made the thought of leaving someone behind. Was he not asked the same 3 questions whenever he practiced with the sword? Was he not clear of the reason he picked up the sword and pursued the path? His reason to lift his sword was to protect lives. All the lives he cared for.

Swoosh. Kadas swung his sword, cutting the wood handle of one monster worshipper’s spear, rendering the weapon useless, preventing the metal blade from snuffing the life of that one comrade who had lost his balance and fell. Swiftly, Kadas made another sword swing, his sword sliced the air before it cut one of the 3 monster worshippers’ neck, ending the man.

Kadas’s eyes wandered toward the comrade he had just saved. He had a silver emblem on his shoulder blade with a hawk symbol inscribed on it, someone from Kadas’s squad. Only after looking at his face did Kadas realize that the person he saved had the same square face and block nose as his, that person was none other than his older brother in blood, Sadak.

Kadas sidestepped to dodge a spear thrust. He then made a vertical slash, rising a curtain of blood, killing the second spear-wielder.

Kadas readied himself to engage with the third enemy, the one with the sliced spear, only to see that the man had ran away showing his tail behind his back.

Having that momentary peace, Kadas offered his brother a hand; Sadak accepted gratefully. He helped pull him up. Sadak was a heavy man, but that wasn’t a problem for Kadas.

‘I owe you Lune’s fire wine,’ he said to him.

'I almost left you behind,' Kadas refused the offer.

'You didn't, so just accept it.'

‘Then you owe me more than that.' Kadas let out a slight chuckle. 'But let’s talk about it once all this is done.’

At the words, Sadak looked at his surroundings, remembering that the battle was still ongoing. He nodded, ‘What’s the plan, squad leader?’

‘We figure it out as we go. For now, guard my back.’

‘And you guard mine.’

Together, the two brothers ran into battle instead of away from it.

Kadas still considered following the sword saint’s lead and capturing the monster cult’s leader. However, he knew what the sword saint was capable of. They had sparred once before and it wasn’t an exaggeration to say that Kadas was beaten one-sidedly and that he wouldn’t even consider it a spar. That was a story from 3 years back. Regardless, the sword saint was a capable man. He shouldn’t be needing my aid, Kadas thought.

Ahead, he saw a crowd of people wearing the same white uniform, facing against the monster worshippers. Their emblems had the symbol of a wolf inscribed to it, meaning that they were from a different squad from Kadas. Technically, Kadas, as the squad leader, was only responsible for the safety and well-being of his own squad. Seeing that the wolf squad was outnumbered however, Kadas knew that they would need help.

A part of him worried about his own squad, but the thought immediately got thrown away into the corner of his mind. They’ll be fine, he thought.

Not that Kadas was being overconfident or too faithful, but his squad had the finest men he had known. One example would be Sadak, his own brother, who would follow his lead—heading into danger—without questioning Kadas’s decision. That was the kind of trust that had been built amongst his squad members.

Kadas and Sadak fought along with the wolf squad against the monster worshippers. Their numbers weren’t enough to overcome the number advantage the opposing side currently had, but numbers weren’t everything. Although the 2 brothers had never participated in inter-squad training with the wolf squad, Kadas didn’t have any problem in adjusting to their squad’s fighting style; Sadak on the other hand had always been able to follow Kadas’s lead. After finishing off 3 enemies, the appearance of the brothers was welcomed with cheer from allied side and disdain from the opposing side.

As the battle progressed, the feel of cutting flesh became more and more vivid. People would often say that the feel would get numb instead, but not for Kadas. It was as if his sense sharpened with each battle and he started noticing details that he didn’t want to notice: his opponent’s morbid expression down to the wrinkles, their last dying whispers, and their bodies slowly losing heat and life on the ground.

The color white could no longer be seen in Kadas’s uniform, some part still fresh with red, some already crimsoned and seemingly blackened. The color white of the uniform was a symbol of purity. At the same time, the white of the uniform was designed in a way that it would easily be stained by blood. The purpose being: so that worshippers of the sword—or followers of the sword—would remember the lives they took and the weight of responsibility one would be carrying. The white uniform was there to remind them that killing should only be done with a heavy amount of consideration.

‘What happened to your squad?’ Someone touched Kadas’s back with his. Kadas recognized the owner of that chipped voice, it was wolf squad’s leader, Jagzak.

‘No idea,’ Kadas replied.

‘As in you’ve no idea of what obliterated them? Of what happened to them? Of what they’re doing?’

‘No idea what they’re doing. But they should be fighting and about.’

‘By Zenn… I swear your squad is the most unruly.’

‘They’re dependable, Jagzak,’ Kadas said. He saw how his brother, Sadak, had just saved a wolf squad member from being stabbed by a spear.

‘… That aside, as a whole, we seem to be winning.’

‘I see that.’ The numbers of the monster worshippers had dwindled down and the trained sword worshippers were having the advantage.

‘… I don’t like it.’

‘Nor do I.’

Kadas understood where Jagzak was coming from. It wasn’t that he didn’t like winning, but rather, he didn’t like how the monster worshippers had yet to retreat.

A fact that made the monster worshippers bothersome foes to deal with was the fact that they had no qualms in regard to giving their life away. Once, Kadas had seen how hundreds of monster worshippers had sacrificed themselves to summon a dreadful ancient monster. The picture of them dying with a wicked smile on their face as the ritual slowly drained their lives away was not one he could forget.

But, although they weren’t afraid of death, they weren’t fools. How easy it would be if they were? No, they weren’t without a brain to think. Whenever the monster worshippers were losing, they wouldn’t mind retreating and running away shamefully. They would give away their lives without much thoughts, but they weren’t ones to throw their lives away.

‘Kadas,’ Sadak joined in, touching his and Jagzak’s back, ‘I don’t like what’s going on. Something is brewing.’

‘They’re not retreating even when losing,’ Jagzak said. ‘They’re planning something.’

‘… They couldn’t be doing this only to stall their leader’s escape, would they?’

‘They shouldn’t be. The sword saint had gone ahead. He—’

‘Is the sword saint having trouble ahead?’ Kadas interrupted. At this point, seeing that the sword saint had yet to return with the cult’s leader captive made Kadas worry of the situation. What kind of trouble could possibly keep the sword saint occupied?

‘Rust,’ Jagzak swore. He wanted to argue but Kadas’s question was sound. ‘He might be.’

‘Then—brother, you should aid him,’ Sadak suggested.

Me? Aiding the sword saint? ‘As if I could.’

‘Brother, you’re the squad leader for a reason. Save your humbleness in other situations, just not in battles.’

‘…’

Kadas gave Sadak’s suggestion a thought. Currently, it was imperative to address the matter regarding the sword saint. None of them had heard of anything from him for a while now, and that raised concerns.

If the sword saint was indeed facing trouble, then it could only mean that he was facing someone; or something on par with his strength. Losing the sword saint would then spell defeat for this battle and it would waste the sufferings and deaths his allies had gone through.

Kadas didn’t feel secure leaving the wolf squad without him and going ahead, but it was more pressing to check on the sword saint.

‘You’re right, I’ll go on ahe—’ Kadas was making his choice, but soon found out that he didn’t need to.

He, however, wished that he did.

Through the passageway, stepping out from the inner section of the monastery, was a sight that brought horror to the sword worshippers’ minds. The sight of an ethereal young lady with everlasting beauty and pitch-black eyes. Eyes which showed madness. She wore a purple—pink flowered—kimono, presenting herself without any hint of fear. She wasn’t one to have fear, but one to create. Her left hand held a bloodied kunai, while her right hand held…

‘Holy Zenn,’ Sadak said with tremor in his voice. ‘Is that… Is that the sword saint she’s holding?’

Everyone’s attention was at the head the young lady was holding, everyone except Kadas, who, instead of focusing on the victim, was focusing on the cause, at the kimonoed lady. Her pitch-black eyes wandered, seemingly to search for someone, only to stop when she met Kadas in the eyes.

As if to confirm that she was indeed taking some favoritism over Kadas, she tossed the head—the sword saint’s—toward Kadas. It fell short to and rolled over the ground, only stopping when it had met Kadas’s forward foot. That wrinkled oval face with gray eyebrows, with its eyes open with terror and mouth agape, was unmistakably the sword saint’s.

‘It’s-It’s-It’s,’ one of the wolf squad members fell to the ground in surprise, his teeth clattering, pointing at the head with trembling finger, ‘it’s the sword saint…’

Kadas looked at the kimonoed lady once more, he gripped the handle of his sword firmly. As if her pitch-black eyes weren’t unnerving enough, she made a wicked ear-to-ear grin.

‘Retreat!’ Jagzak shouted at the top of his lungs, his order broke the still; everlasting moment they just had.

The followers of the sword didn’t need to be shouted the twice to start moving. All of them had wanted to run, to flee from this horrible; impossible scene where the sword saint had been defeated by a wicked woman. Terror filled the battlefield, most of Kadas’s allies bolted off from their formations and scrambled to escape from the monastery. Yet, Kadas stood still at his place, still pointing his blade at the kimonoed lady.

He inhaled deep breath and exhaled them, ensuring that his composure was in check.

‘Kadas!’ Sadak said with a shout, he couldn’t blame him for having fear in his tone. No one could. ‘What in Zenn’s name are you doing?!’

The lady walked toward Kadas, she seemed delighted seeing that Kadas was holding his ground. Her skin was flawless and her purple kimono wrapped her beautifully like a bouquet would to flower. On her, there wasn’t any sign that the sword saint had managed to harm her. She beat the sword saint without receiving any wound? What kind of nightmare is this?

‘Go, run. This is an order,’ Kadas said to Sadak, not as a brother, but as a squad leader. Despite desperately wanting to run away with the others, Kadas knew that he had to remain. If he were to run, then who would be occupying the lady? Who would be stalling time for the others to retreat? She killed the sword saint. She was stronger than him. ‘For goodness sake, Sadak, go!’ he said again, noticing that his brother was beside him.

‘I’ll fight with you,’ Sadak said.

‘This won’t be a fight, Sadak! Go! This is an orde—’

‘You would do the same!’ he shouted, silencing Kadas.

Dammit! Dammit! Dammit! Kadas cursed inside his mind. The kimonoed lady walked closer and closer, his and Sadak’s doom was approaching. How? How am I supposed to win against someone who killed the sword saint?

Without any hesitation, the lady stepped into Kadas’s sword range. On normal occasion, he would have immediately strike down the opponent who was reckless enough to be within sword reach, but her nonchalance froze Kadas’s movement. He gulped.

She’s without fear.

The young lady tilted her neck toward Kadas’s blade, still with a smile on her face, even when blood trickled down her collarbone. ‘One chance,’ she said with her dying blue lips, words as cold as the dead. ‘Come on now.’ Kill me if you can, she implied.

Kadas couldn’t tell for sure if she was simply taunting him, underestimating him, or had hidden reasons. As baffled as Kadas was, he was no fool. His opponent, a fearsome one who was able to kill the sword saint, was generous enough to give Kadas one chance, and he wasn’t foolish to waste that opportunity.

Taking the chance, Kadas made what would be the worst swing of his lifetime.

He had pulled his sword back, winding up for a great wide vertical swing, a transparent move that would be as readable as a book. A swing which relied not on technique, but strength and only strength alone.

It was the type of slash that Kadas would never use in real fights; since it would never connect with the opponent. However, Kadas took her statement—that one chance she spoke of—at face value. And true to her words, as Kadas unleashed his swing, the kimonoed lady didn’t dodge.

That was the worst swing in Kadas’s lifetime, but with that very same swing, he had cut the lady’s neck clean. The sensation was very much real and he knew he wasn’t imagining it. The lady’s head flew off, disconnected from the body, and rolled on the ground.

It was hard to believe.

‘You—did it. You did it! You did it, Kadas!’ Sadak cheered.

Is it that easy? Kadas thought, still doubting himself. His hands had enfeebled because of that one swing and his grip on his weapon loosened, his sword fell and clanged to the ground. Is it really over?

Weak on the knees, Kadas’s body tilted backward, but he was caught by his brother, who then lent him his shoulders. ‘I owe you more than fire wine,’ Sadak said with a chuckle.

Kadas wanted to chuckle and told him: ‘I told you so,’ but he couldn’t. He jolted in surprise, not because of the sight of the still standing headless body; there were many cases in which a person died standing. He was surprised because there was a sinister black color emanating from the body.

‘What’s wrong?’ Sadak caught his surprise.

‘What’s that?’ Kadas pointed at the color.

‘… That’s the opponent you just cut, brother.’ Sadak looked at him with concern, his expression implied that he wondered if Kadas was… disturbed.

‘No, I mean that color.’

‘What color?’

‘That!’ Kadas raised his voice unintentionally. ‘That color!’

‘Brother… it’s okay.’ Can you not… see it? ‘Leave the rest to me. I’ll get you the finest of fire wine when we’re done here and that’ll wash away your tiredness.’

Part of Kadas wanted to throw this unease away, accepting that Sadak was right and that what Kadas was seeing was just a result of his own tiredness. However, as they both walked away, with Sadak lending his shoulders, he could see colors coating his brother’s body. The difference compared to the lady was that his was ocean blue instead of sinister black. Am I seeing things? Kadas looked at his own hand, realizing that he too had the same color as Sadak, only that his was of a slightly different shade. Something is going on.

‘I doubt they need our help,’ Sadak said, looking at the entrance to the monastery. There, were the members of the hawk squad fighting against the monster worshippers who were stalling them and cutting their escape. Had the situation been better, Kadas would be proud of his squad being comparatively better than the other squads. The hawk squad had no formations to begin with, and in this chaotic battlefield they were reigning supreme amongst the others.

Kadas noticed colors coating everyone’s body. Each and every one of them had distinct colors of their own. The only exception from the colors were things and objects—they had no color coating them—and the dead bodies lying on the ground.

He then saw one monster worshipper with a red crimson color coating him being slashed by one of Kadas’s squad member. When he was struck, the color seemed to fade, and when he breathed his last breath, the color was gone. It vanished.

The headless body has colors.

The revelation came to Kadas a second too late. All of a sudden, darkness engulfed Sadak along with his left arm which was leaning on his brother’s shoulders.

When the darkness disappeared, so was Kadas’s left arm, along with his brother’s upper body.

‘Sadak!’ he cried out. What remained of Sadak was only his legs. That older brother of his, who had been the closest person to Kadas in all his life, was gone in a moment notice. A tear dripped down from one eye, Kadas would scream if he could, but there were more pressing matters. Although he was losing blood from his vanished left arm, he didn’t bother ripping his uniform and stopping the bleeding, he knew that it would be useless. Instead, with all the strength he could resort to, he grabbed Sadak’s sword with one hand and turned to see the headless body.

That headless body was moving. As impossible a feat it was, the body was indeed moving, even without a head. It had thrown its kunai and was now dragging its feet toward the head on the ground, grabbing it by the hair. That head could still blink and her blue lips moved. ‘You failed to kill me,’ she said.

Kadas’s head and body felt light from losing blood. He wished he was imagining things, but he wasn’t. The body had lifted the disconnected head to the neck. And as they settled back, the cut healed—regenerated until it was as if she was never cut before. That explained why she wasn’t wounded fighting against the sword saint. She simply healed herself…

Sadak died because I failed to kill her.

‘It’s your tu—’

Kadas stepped forward and swung Sadak’s sword with one hand and cut the lady’s throat. He was at death’s door and the word ‘fear’ and ‘reckless’ had disappeared from his mind. It was disheartening to see that the cut on her throat immediately healed, but Kadas kept on giving a fight. Even when his skin had gone pale.

With blood draining away from his body, Kadas’s movement had gone clumsy and the lady dodged his 2 slashes easily without much effort. His leg could no longer carry his body, but Kadas refused to fall down. He stabbed Sadak’s sword to the ground and leaned on the sword. His vision grew more and more narrow, but he kept glaring at her with all the hostility he could throw.

‘How does it feel? To die?’ she asked, her smile still remained.

Kadas coughed weakly.

‘You can’t answer?’

It was frustrating… to be pathetic. He had failed to protect and avenge his brother. At least, he kept on fighting, he kept on struggling, believing that he could occupy his opponent just… a little bit… longer.

‘…’ he said. His voice was low enough that he himself couldn’t hear it.

‘What, what?’ she said. ‘Do you want to thank me perhaps?’ She approached him and placed her ear in front of his mouth.

Find out yourself. The words almost didn’t leave his mouth.

She didn’t speak. She just stared at Kadas silently.

From outside of Kadas’s vision, he saw a blade swinging down at the kimonoed lady. The slash was silent as it cut through air, a perfect swing.

She had dodged it with a backstep, and standing in front of Kadas now was someone with gray hair and a bloodless white uniform, bearing the emblem with a whale inscribed on it. He was from a squad which wasn’t in the initial assault. A reinforcement.

Kadas knew that back well, he was the sword saint’s son.

But that no longer mattered.

Not for me.