Leo watched on his horse as the suicide knights placed themselves in formation. A black line on the forehead marked each member of the honored squadron. His superior had awakened him two hours before dawn to inform him of the dire news. A part of him had thanked the gods for creating the miracle. But the other part of him felt tortured by the delay of the inevitable. “Go guard the supply lines,” said Elnor, who was standing next to him.

“Yes, ma’am.” He took one last glance at the brave men and turned to follow his order.

Elnor remained on the hill, looking down on the five hundred men they were about to leave behind to die. She could see the voted leader of the suicide knights, General Tiga, walking back and forth of the front row. He was not a commander but an acclaimed visioner. She reckoned his ability played a significant role when the knights voted him as their leader. She was far away, but she could still hear his speech.

“Suicide knights,” General Tiga addressed his men. “Today will be the day you truly live. Forget about what you think you miss.” His voice grew louder, “Forget about the things you want! Obliterate the desires that occupy your thoughts! Let the desire to live to conquer your mind!” He transmuted tenaga, focusing all of his men’s thoughts on taking as many of their enemy’s lives with them. He removed any doubts or fear from the unfortunate souls, leaving only the desire for animosity. “Grant them pain! Hand them agony! Deliver them death!” “Give them all your might and die! General Tiga unsheathed his sword and raised it upwards, “JUST BECAUSE WE BREATHE DOES NOT MEAN WE ARE ALIVE! DIE LIVING!”

“BURY ME ALIVE!” the suicide knights shouted in return.

After a round of cheers, the men dispersed to take up their position in the dense forest that surrounded an empty field, an empty field that would soon be a river of blood and gore.

Elnor left afterward, joining the last group of men to leave. She looked back, thinking, by the end of the day, the knights of Ronan would have lost some of their most powerful sorcerers.

A few hours later, just as the sun was at its peak, General Tiga could make out the army of Akar closing in their position on the horizon. The suicide knights knew of their orders and what each of them was responsible for. They were scattered on the bottom of the hill, waiting for the enemy to make their way down. The heavy clanking of armor could be heard as the opposing forces made their way. A few of Akar’s elementalists tried to clear out the mist, but they were no match for Commander Miras.

General Tiga stood at the back lines, fighting his own battle against the enemy’s visioners, preventing them from detecting or affecting the suicide knight’s minds. Their enemy knew they were here, just not where nor how many. General Tiga pushed himself to his limits, his core threatening to burst. He was battling the enemy visioners, keeping the minds of his men focused, and pulling as much tenaga as he could from his vicinity into himself. A feat that only powerful visioners, with decades of practice, could pull. He needed to buy them as much time as he could. Once he failed, the full extent of their presence would be detected. “Come on, faster.” He urged the forces of Akar to push forward faster.

The forces of Akar were careful and sent scouts ahead. The scouts never returned. The suicide knights had painted themselves from head to toe with mud, camouflaging themselves in the forest. Blood had begun to flow down General Tiga’s nose. Frustrated with the continuous disappearance of their scouts, the enemy finally sent the bulk of their knights. The knights of Akar were cautious, moving slowly, trying to make out movements through the dense mist. As the knights continued to march, more of them joined the main army. General Tiga’s eyes grew blurry, and he shut them. The knights around him saw the blood flowing out his eyes, nose, and ears, and they allowed it. The suicide knights did not fear death.

General Tiga could not tell how much of the enemy’s forces had reached the field, shifting his entire focus on his responsibilities. He was at his limit, and he continued to push further.

“Now!” General Miras ordered. He had felt the spatter of blood on his cheeks, and the sudden surge of tenaga around him as late General Tiga’s body exploded. The enemy’s visioner now knew of their presence. Commander Lipsis, who stood on the other side of Tiga, transmuted the colossal amount of tenaga, and pushed his palms forward. He aimed for the no longer empty field. A gush of blue flames erupted from him as he transmuted the dense tenaga. Lipsis had never felt this exhilarated, this alive. The stream of blue flames formed almost like a dragon, long and bright.

Leo was marching with the retreating force when he heard a loud explosion. It was impossible not to notice. A blue dragon, blinding in the already bright day, could be seen from miles away. Many of the knights stopped to look back. It was as alluring as it was bitter. A sight that not many have a chance to see- a master elementalist of the flames smashing through their limits. A mark that heralded the death of a once-great commander.

“Keep marching. We don’t have time to waste!” General Ahri barked.

“Come on Leo, let’s not waste their sacrifice,” said Elnor, who had ridden back towards Leo.

Leo had never seen such a powerful transmutation. To think the purpose of something that beautiful was to massacre the living. He was lost for words. “It’s beautiful,” is all he could say.

“It was,” replied Elnor.

The knights of Akar saw the shining blue light through the fog, admiring its grace. The dragon struck the mist, and it detonated. The scorching flames melted through their armors. Their elementalist tried to disperse the flame, but many of them failed. The field burned, filled with the cries of burning knights. Those that were still able to fight were soon to be outnumbered and butchered. A relief force was sent immediately by Akar’s main army, but they were too far away.

“Blow it!” General Miras ordered a suicide knight. The knight blew the large horn he was holding. It howled throughout the battlefield, signaling the beginning of their second plan. General Miras looked to where once stood Commander Lipsis, now only a pile of ash. Lipsis had stayed true to the adage of the suicide knights, ‘die living.’

A few knights backed up by augmenters rushed in to cut down the survivors, hearing the horn. They left a few to live, those that were severely wounded but could still scream. The ones left alive called for help in pain, begging their comrades to come and rescue them. The enemy visioners tried to cut down the suicide knights’ morale, but Tiga had finished his duty and they were not affected. Elementalists from the enemy’s relieving forces, who were rushing to their brothers and sisters, sent balls of flames, shards of ice, and boulders towards the retreating suicide knights. Some of them stuck true, but most of the augmenters made it back under cover of the forest. Archers and crossbowmen fired, slaughtering the relief force that got close to the scorching field.

Angered by the honorless ploy the suicide knights had made, the general of the army of Akar ordered his knights to flush out their enemy who cowered in the forest. The general should have known there was no honor for those that were already dead.

Seeing the maneuvers of their opposing forces, General Miras yelled an order. “Black Horn.” The sound of the horn was different. It was high-pitched, almost painful to hear from up close. They all knew what it meant. They were now to go out there and die.

Leo covered his ears as the sound of a sharp whistle drilled his ears. Elnor stood alert, knowing what it meant. “General Ahri!” she shouted.

“Send him!” she heard Ahri replied from a distance.

Elnor turned to Leo urgently, “Take my horse and race to the fort! Tell them to send messages requesting reinforcements immediately! Do you understand?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Leo said as he replaced his horse with the faster one. “Request reinforcement immediately.”

“Go!” Elnor shouted, slapping the horse towards a sprint. Their situation was terrible, as bad as it could be. The black horn was only meant to be blown when the suicide knights were about to make their last stand. A horn that was blown far earlier than planned. Something went wrong. The original plan had failed.

“Double time, knights!” General Ahri barked.

Unaware of the urgent situation that was taking place, Nevan stood inside the barn. He had not slept peacefully last night, his failures occupying his mind.

“Begin,” Ayu said.

Nevan rushed in, hammering the knee cap of a sorcerer that got in his way. He used the spike tip of his war hammer to stab through the jaw of an ax-wielding sorcerer. Nevan did not manage to pull the embedded hammer out fast enough, and a sword severed his left arm. Before he could react, his body flew through the air, a spear pinning him to the wall through his chest. The bell rang, ending the test. He fell to the floor as Ayu yanked the spear out, and a healer came to his side, cradling his severed arm. Once his wounds were healed, not even a scar was left. Nevan got back up and picked up his hammers.

“Again,” Ayu ordered.

General Miras led the suicide knights straight into the army that was rushing into their position. He stared at the massive avalanche of men that were going to entomb him. “Bury me alive,” he whispered to himself. The augmenters transmuted tenaga, turning themselves superhuman. The more powerful ones were able to morph their body in varying degrees. Some turned almost beast-liked, while others grew more muscular and taller. Elementalists conjured their tenaga based on their affinity. He saw burning swords and bolts flying towards the enemy lines. They brought no healers. Healers were a rare and valuable commodity, not to be easily disposed of.

The augmenters rushed in first. They clashed with the enemy augmenters and knights head-on on the burning battlefield. The mud they had caked themselves in somewhat protected them from the burning plasma. Miras rushed in straight to where the battles were the thickest. He saw an enemy visioner took to the skies, with daggers forming a circle behind them. Telekinesis, he thought, ‘they must be close to a master or already is a master visioner. He transmuted air around the soles of his boots, carrying himself to the air to meet the visioner. The visioner saw Miras and launched their knives at him. With the manipulation of the air, Miras managed to divert the daggers off their course.

Miras felt a pounding on his head; the visioner was trying to break his mental defenses. He unsheathed his two-handed blade and flew towards the visioner. Miras swung, and the visioner flew backward. He only needed to get close enough. Miras chased after the visioner and managed to get ahold of the enemy’s neck plate. Miras transmuted tenaga and pulled the air out of the visioner’s lungs. Suddenly finding themselves without air, the visioner panicked and lost control of the daggers. Miras sheathed his sword and grabbed one of the knives out of the air. He stabbed it through the opening on the enemy’s metal helmet. The sharp metal pierced through where the flesh was soft, straight through the right pupil. The visioner went limp and Miras let go. The body fell to the mud below, where it was trampled by the knights fighting.

Miras dived down, sword first, impaling an enemy elementalist. He fought on the front lines, sending bursts of air that dried out the eyes of the opposing forces. They were being pushed back, and Miras struggled to coordinate his men into formation. A baritone horn sounded from the enemy’s side. They were signaling their cavalry to advance. The suicide knights that were flushed out of the forest joined the rest, fighting backward as they attempt to merge with the rest of their comrades.

They were under attack from three sides now. The galloping of the enemy’s cavalry shook the ground as they came closer. The few suicide knights who had buried themselves in the edge of the forest tensed. They had used a small breathing pipe to allow themselves shallow breaths, and now they struggled to inhale as their adrenaline heightened. When the enemy cavalry came close, they pulled on the rope they had held on for hours. Wooden spikes rose from underneath the mud. The horses were moving too fast down the hill and failed to stop. The first row nailed themselves to the points, causing their riders to fall, just to be trampled by their own. Those that managed to stop themselves did not fare any better. The sudden halt caused the cavalries behind to crash into them, causing even more chaos.

The minor victory was quickly replaced with dread as General Miras saw more knights of Akar appear on the top of the hill. More cavalry, more men, and more hopelessness. The cavalry and men flowed towards them like a waterfall. “We didn’t even cut down a fifth,” he murmured. He stood there, unmoving, unable to comprehend how the retreating army would ever hold the fort.

“General!” one of the suicide knights stepped in front of Miras to cut down an incoming knight. Miras did not respond. He just stared at the incoming forces.

The knight seeing her general lost and unable to lead, shouted, “I’m taking over as General, take Commander Miras back! Sorcerers surround Commander Miras and pull in tenaga!”

Miras, knowing he was no longer suitable to lead, nodded. He knew what the General has planned, and he was determined to see it through.

“Knights! Form up on me!” the General ordered.

The non-sorcerers made their way to the front lines to fight and die with their General. Miras stood in the center of the circle of sorcerers, building up tenaga. The knights on the front lines stopped retreating. They either stood or died where they were. Bodies piled up, forming a barricade of bleeding flesh. As the last of the sorcerers burst, Miras unleashed his full might. He spread his arms to both sides, forcing the wind to swirl. An arrow struck his left hand, but he ignored the pain. The increasing wind dragged the blood away. He never felt so powerful. Tornadoes formed around him, uprooting the trees in the forest. Men, including his own, were dragged into it to die. He focused his intent, to take as many with him. The opposing elementalist tried to collapse the gigantic tornado of blood and gore, but it was no easy feat. Especially now that Commander Miras had joined the wind, his body turning into dust. He received the death of a suicide knight. They all did. They died living.

General Ahri saw the red tornado when they had neared Fort Indah. The swirling wind reached the sky. She could only think of the destruction that such a power would cause. It was all now left to her, and she had every intention to succeed.

In Nirvana, Nevan walked back to his home with his head down below the bright night. He had failed again. Repeated failure he could tolerate. The problem was he was not getting any closer to succeeding. At this rate, he might as well give up. But he could not bring himself to do it. If he gave up now, what would happen if he faced similar challenges in the future? He will succeed, he told himself. “I’m not giving up.”