Deep within Rothius' subconscious, a flashback played, about how he started his life as the Dark Mask, 15 years ago.
It was a stormy day in a river near the border between Lotus Marsh and East, two travelers, a dark-skinned Barbarian and a snappy-dressed Crusader were braving the storm.
"Hey, Angelic Killer, bad storm we're having, eh?"
After hearing the sentence end, the Crusader flicked his right wrist and assumed a thinking position.
"We've been having this storm 4 days straight by now. It'd be bad if the nearby villages went under because of any flood."
The Barbarian let out a hearty laugh, but with tones of worry noticeable.
"Nearby villages, eh? Then that would be bad."
The Crusader chuckled, keeping his thinking position.
"I forget, your village is fourth nearest to this river."
They saw a suspicious burlap sack with human blood seeping from it near the bank, and hauled it in.
Opening it, they saw a horrific sight within.
Inside, was the notorious traitor, Rothius, chopped up by the joints, and his severed head sitting on top of the heap.
Growing curious, the Barbarian looked at the Crusader, which looked back with the same questioning eyes.
"It's the corpse of Rothius the Traitor. What should we do with it, Angelic Killer?"
The Saint scanned the body, tracing the cuts.
"Village Chief, these are made by guillotine blades. First, we take it to your hut. I need to trace how could anyone catch him and chop him up for the meat market."
"Y'know, for a trained Priest, you sure talk like some psycho killer expert."
"Should I remind you how I got my 'Angelic Killer' codename?"
"Nah, you don't need to remind me."
The two laughed, unwary that the severed head's eyes already popped open.
Lifting the bag with one arm, the Barbarian walked away right behind the Crusader, both trudging back to a hut.
Though it didn't take them long, the storm made them feel like they walked for hours even if they used the warp stations to cut the travel time.
Entering the hut, and lifting the trapdoor to the basement, they quickly laid out the corpse as soon as they closed the door, not knowing the severed head already watching their every move.
The Crusader put them in order as the Barbarian watched while washing the blood off his clothes and armor.
Rothius' eyes closely watched their every move, as the Saint positioned everything in place.
He closed them when the Saint turned to face his head, then put it in place.
"Village Chief, do you think my idea would work?"
The Barbarian laughed, as he went near the Crusader and patted his shoulder.
"I trust your instinct this time."
And in the few minutes that had passed, they watched as the nerves, bones, muscles and flesh slowly reconnect themselves.
Slowly sitting up, Rothius' body reconnected its head.
The two watched in surprise as the flesh reconnected as if it hasn't been cleaved.
The Barbarian tossed a shirt and pants to him, and sat down.
"Dress yourself up."
Rothius did as he was told, and as soon as he wore the shirt, the two aimed their weapons at him.
The Crusader grabbed a butcher's cleaver off the hook on the wall and tapped Rothius' neck.
"How did you wind up like that, all butchered up?"
Rothius smirked evilly, as his dark aura filled the air.
"Trying to kill myself, in an effort to seal the Black Dragon's power."
The Crusader winced a bit, while the Barbarian pressed his ax's edge against Rothius' neck.
"He's a known traitor, be careful!"
"This is how you treat an unarmed man? Take it easy, I only have a quarter of a mind to attack both of you, right about now."
Both slowly lowered their weapons, never taking their eyes off Rothius, in case he attacks them.
The Barbarian sat on a wooden mat and offered him a large jug of wine.
"Welcome to my village, Rothius, known throughout Legendia as Rothius the Traitor. I, on the other hand, view you as a possible ally to my village. My name is Nickolaus, but please call me Nick. Barbarian ever since I was a wee lad."
Rothius took the jug and gulped a few mouthfuls, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
The Crusade sat at another wooden mat, and looked at him with sharp eyes.
"The name's Lars, known as the Angelic Killer. You have probably heard of me as the-"
"-The Priest that presided over executions, often doing them himself, the morgue and its processes, all the way to the last rites at their graves. Indeed, I have heard of you. You took up being a Crusader exactly a year after the selection battle for the 6th Hero."
Lars laughed, patting his left thigh as he did so.
"And what of your former comrades-in-arms? I heard you-"
"-Killed them all. Yes, I did. In a fit of rage brought about by their pestering. Ami, the Elven Champion, Saladin, the King Of Lunar Knights, Stormgrace the Benevolent, The Shooting Star whose name eluded all of us, and Alurrie, Lady Kasarana's other protege, who, if I may add, was a master of all forms of magic."
Nick held his chin with one hand and drank from another, smaller jug of wine with the other.
"After your desertion of the 2nd-Generation Six Heroes, almost all of Legendia saw you as a heretic, the repetition of Velskud's tragedy, no, even worse. With Argenta vanishing somewhere, and Geraint dead, none of them were able to stop you from gaining all those powers."
Lars eased up, and looked at the ceiling, and sighed.
"But after all that has happened, you are too humane to be Velskud's successor, a bit too humane to be a true monster."
Rothius glanced at both of them, and smiled.
"Velskud had his reasons, I have my own. Simple as that. He just wanted the power for himself, I wanted to seal this power."
Nick stood up, and opened an iron-reinforced wooden chest.
Taking out a set of armor, a pair of weapons and a cloak, he laid them in front of Rothius, who looked at him with great bewilderment.
"Consider this a peace offering, if you will. To keep your hands off my village."
Rothius laughed, and looked at Nick straight in the eye.
"I'm not as bad as Velskud was, and as for this gift, I thank you for your kindness."
Lars chuckled as Rothius wore the armor and weapons presented to him.
"Perhaps you should stay here for a while to recover, right, Nick?"
Laughing, Nick nodded in agreement.
"Yeah, probably work for my village for a while, protect it. The attacks from the Dragon Cult are getting worse by the day."
Rothius stood up, feeling the warming effect of the wine wash over him, and gave Nick a thumbs up, signifying his agreement.
"Just give me a good weapon, then we can start the Grim Reaper's festival."
Upon finishing that sentence, he fell on one knee and lost consciousness, once again.
Lars stood up, and pulled him to the nearest headrest for him to sleep on.
"What a bad liar, as you said, eh, Lady Alurrie?"
Alurrie walked out of a trapdoor, smiling a bit.
"He's just feeling the full swing of guilt and remorse of being unable to seal the Black Dragon's powers. Well, I'll be off to another long journey, and please, never tell him I was here. Really, what a fragile-hearted man he is."
Touching Rothius' face as he slept, Alurrie smiled weakly.
"Sometimes, you are too humane for your own good, my dear friend."
"Nnnngh. . . Teluna. . ."
She gave a weak chuckle.
"Even in dreams his love for her never wanes, only waxes."
Nick sat down on his place, and gave Alurrie a warm smile.
"Teluna, the current Queen of the Dark Elves, successor to the deceased Elena the Red, is his lover?"
Alurrie sat down, a sad smile forming on her face.
"Not just his lover, she is his only confidante, his greatest ally, and his wife."
Lars nearly jumped back in surprise.
"H-H-His wife!? THAT Teluna, Rothius' wife!?"
"Why, yes. They got married a week before the last battle in the Cliffland, where we cornered Velskud and slew him before he was able to turn to the Black Dragon."
Looking at her long-time ally's sleeping face, she traced a finger over his eyes.
"Well Nick, I'll be off on my journey now. Remember, do not tell him I was here."
Both Nick and Lars nodded, and Alurrie ran out through the same entrance she used.
Nick sealed the trapdoor's edges with mud to hide it well, while Lars single-handedly carried Rothius by the collar, and went upstairs.
A young Kali, around 5 or 6 years of age, carrying a small pile of blankets saw him, and smiled.
"Master Lars, who is that man?"
"A Legendary Hero, of the Six. Can you tell me who you adore the most?"
"Of course, the Blood-Soaked Bladesmaster, Rothius!"
Lars grinned, and looked at her.
"This man is him. Prepare a bed for me, won't you, Little Hazirra?"
The child's eyes glowed with delight, as she nodded then sped off to a vacant room to prepare what was needed.
Lars carefully laid Rothius' sleeping body on the mat, while Hazirra sat beside him.
"I'll watch over him, Master Lars!"
Smiling, Lars patted her head and nodded, giving his permission.
As soon as she heard him leave, she poked Rothius' left cheek.
She looked at him with eyes wide open with delight, as she sat near him and held his rough, calloused left hand, her other hand stroking his blonde hair.
Her stroking suddenly stopped when his right hand grabbed her frail wrist that it almost broke, his blue eyes staring into her black ones, which had tears threatening to fall in pain.
Quickly releasing his grip, and holding the frightened child close to his chest, he patted her head as he smiled calmly at her.
"I'm sorry if I surprised you, little child. Your name is?"
Wiping her tears with her right hand, she sniffed and looked at his face.
"H-Hazirra. . . Master Rothius. . ."
She couldn't contain the urge to cry, prompting Rothius to hold her close and ease her pain.
Lars burst in to the room, and quickly cast a healing spell on her right wrist, which still had grip marks on them.
"I'm sorry, Lars. It was my fault."
"And I implore you to forgive her actions as well. Those are but the actions of a little girl, treat them as such."
"And so I shall. She has incurred not my wrath but only my surprise."
Hazirra turned and bowed to Lars, as he walked out of the door.
As soon as he turned left, she jumped from Rothius' lap and bowed to him as well, then went out.
Upon hearing the footsteps grow faint, he resumed his lying position and looked out of the window, out to the storm.
A single thought made his eyelids heavy.
"I do not have any idea at all how to seal this power, and I fear that it will consume me. I can control it easily for now, but up to when?"
Closing his eyes in deep thought, he tried to find a way to fully seal it.
A little finger poking his left side made him jump out of bed and cling to the ceiling with a loud yelp of surprise.
Hazirra was back with a tray of warm food on it, although it had a bit too much food.
Rothius let go of the ceiling and landed on both feet on the floor.
"I never knew that you were that easy to surprise, Master Rothius."
Letting out a loud laugh, he patted the child's head and took the tray from her, starting with the bowl of soup.
Sitting down while savoring that first gulp, Rothius never looked so content with a meal.
Hazirra sat next to him, watching his every move with eyes wide open and a genuinely-happy smile on her face.
And in the span of what seemed like a few minutes, Rothius cleaned up all the food from the plates.
Bones from the meat, used cutlery and plates piled up neatly on the tray, while Hazirra rested her head on Rothius' right thigh, in a deep cold afternoon nap.
Resting his head on the wall behind him, Rothius traced his view on the ceiling, his brows furrowed as his thoughts deepened.
No place to return to aside from the kingdom of the Dark Elves, no reason to continue his fight.
The moment when he felt tears from Hazirra's eyes as she slept that his resolve came back, full force.
This was a possible fresh start, a chance to remake a life here from scratch.
"It might mean I'm throwing that life away, but for a start like this, I won't think twice."
Nick went in the room and clapped lightly.
"Very well. It would seem you have made up your mind."
Rothius nodded, and they shook hands.
"And with that out of the way, tonight, we celebrate!"
Rothius looked at him with a puzzled face.
"Uh. . . Celebrate what?"
"Your new start, and to welcome you into our village!"
A loud laugh boomed into the room, and he was pushed by Hazirra to the open-air bath they had at that house.
Two adult Kalis were there to service him, and bowed as soon as he laid eyes on them.
Hazirra joined them, as she scrubbed his back.
"Big sister, you know who he is?"
A silver-haired Kali smiled as she looked at Hazirra.
"Why yes. The hero, the Blood-Soaked Bladesmaster Rothius, the one you like the most, right?"
Hazirra nodded, and after a few more seconds of scrubbing his back, all 3 pushed him to the steaming water.
The brown-haired one left with Hazirra in tow, while the silver-haired one stayed behind and brought out a jug of wine.
Quickly changing to a towel as Rothius still had his head in the water, she went down into it as Rothius rose up for air.
"Allow me to service you, my lord."
And as she slowly approached him, she slowly took off her towel, while Rothius bashfully looked away.
"N-N-N-N-No need f-f-for that! P-p-please, I'm OK by myself, really!"
She bowed, went out of the water, and quickly clothed herself up.
Upon hearing the door slam shut, Rothius was finally able to relax.
Resting his head on the edge of the pool, he looked at the sky.
"The storm finally let up, huh?"
The constellations were visible in the clear night sky, along with the moon.
Letting out a sigh of hope and relief, and a smile crept across his face.
"I hope that this fresh start would allow me to someday seal the Black Dragon's powers, or use it for good at least."
And the hour for the festivities had come. 9 Kalis danced around the bonfire, as Rothius and Nick drank jug upon jug of wine, while Lars enjoyed his.
All 3 laughed while feasting on the food served to them.
Roast pig, cow, and chicken served with bread was their meal, each animal well-raised and on the peak of health.
Deep within his heart, Rothius wished it would last forever.
The tranquility and contentment he had felt in this place, and in his heart.
Hope welled up within the very depths of his soul.
Nick put one of his arms on Rothius' shoulder.
"Want to know one useless secret as to why I keep all these Kalis in my house?"
"Your. . . personal harem?"
He only responded with a loud laugh.
"But all of them are virgins! I prefer being celibate until the day I get married!"
"Good choice, good choice!"
"You couldn't tell by a glance, but Nick is more chaste than I am!"
All 3 burst out laughing, especially Rothius.
And he truly laughed with all his being, as the night rolled on.
Each Kali dropped a flower on his lap, along with a wink.
Hazirra placed a wreath of flowers on his neck, and smiled at him.
Giving her a pat on the head as a reward, along with a gold coin, he motioned for her to stay away.
Jokes were shared by the 3, with Lars laughing the loudest.
And as the fire died down and the 3 passed out from inebriation, their festivities ended.
3 months had passed like a week, and the stormy weather subsided for a while.
Out for hunting monsters that might threaten the village by sunrise to sunset, Nick, Lars, and Rothius travelled various ruins in their area.
Little did they know that their latest sortie would change the course of their quiet lives.
Facing a revived executioner leading a pack of deranged undead Rune Tigers, they knew they were in for a long battle they can't afford to lose.
Nick got forced to the wall by tigers just like Lars, and left unable to move.
Fending off tigers, Rothius struggled to free his benefactors from those holding them in place when the executioner's halberd impaled him from behind, and a tiger's large fangs bit him on the shoulder, drawing blood.
Nick struggled as hard as he could but he couldn't move from the Rune Tigers' large paws pressing on his joints.
Lars beat the legs holding him down as hard as he could, but even his sharpened mace couldn't to a thing.
In an instant, Rothius was drawn to his subconscious, where he would meet with the Black Dragon face-to-face for the first time.
"Do you want to live?"
He nodded, speechless before its massive form.
"Then give me your body."
He hesitated for a moment, and the Black Dragon copied his form.
"Hurry it up, if you want to live."
Rothius knew there was no other way to proceed, and agreed.
"Time has come for us to bestow hell upon our enemies."
And with a low, menacing laughter ringing in his ears, Rothius felt himself sink into darkness.
It happened in an instant, as a loud roar resonated within that torch-lit chamber.
Suddenly grinning, two dark discs of energy sewed in and out of the executioner's body, as Rothius ripped its head off, not even bothering to pull out the halberd that impaled him.
The executioner's body fell in pieces, the head ripped roughly and was resting in Rothius' palm, purple blood dripping loudly on the floor, and the tiger moving back in fear from him.
Rothius looked straight to its eyes, and a demonic grin formed on his face as he slowly pulled the halberd's blade out of his body, the hole slowly sealing itself up.
In a desperate move, it lunged forward to try and attack Rothius, but was met with its prey voluntarily diving into its body.
By mere seconds, its howls and screeches rang throughout the chamber as Rothius ripped its innards with wild swings, slicing muscle, organ and bone, and as the Rune Tiger stood on its hind legs, he burst out of its stomach, soaked in stomach acid and blood.
Nick and Lars knew at that moment something was off.
Rothius' eyes were fiercely glowing, like roaring flames, and his shadow, they saw the Black Dragon's roaring silhouette.
Shaking off the uncertainty flooding them, Nick and Lars struggled twice as hard, with the former howling four times as he pushed the Rune Tigers away, while Nick summoned Relics that impaled the Rune Tigers down.
Slowly walking towards the Rune Tigers, Rothius readied his blade.
"Halfmoon Slash."
With an unregulated amount of strength, that swing cleaved the tigers in half, barely missing his two allies by mere centimeters.
But what was most disturbing what the cleave it made.
Instead of the white trace of power, it looked like a claw of the Black Dragon ripped through them.
Lars approached Rothius, throwing caution to the wind, and grabbed him by the collar.
"You bastard, WHERE. IS. ROTHIUS!?"
The body grinned, and looked at him.
"He bequeathed control of this body to me. Wherefore art thou infuriated!?"
A telekinetic blast sent Lars flying, as Rothius turned his back from them.
"It won't be long before my grip in this body wanes again. I leave it in thine hands."
As soon as it finished its sentence, it fell down, unconscious.
Nick and Lars rushed over and carried him back to the village.
Using a warp stone to return to their village in an instant, they rushed to Rothius' room and laid him there before they tended to their own wounds.
It was by nightfall that Rothius regained consciousness, and saw Hazirra's nearly-crying face looming over his.
After sitting up, she hugged him while crying as Nick and Lars entered the room, with the latter having a furious look on his face, his eyes sharp like daggers.
"Are you Rothius, or the Black Dragon? Talk."
Rothius gave an uneasy laugh, along with a nervous smile.
"I-it's me, Rothius! Really! So please, enough with that stare, Lars!"
It only served for Lars to advance threateningly towards him, and drew his weapon.
Threatened, Rothius reached for the closest thing his right hand could grab, and threw it at Lars.
"A. . . Blanket?"
Lars laughed, and put his weapon away.
Their relief was broken when a Dark Elf burst into the room, covered with wounds.
"M-my King. . . You have. . . to return. . . Queen. . . trouble. . ."
Nick supported the wounded Dark Elf to keep her from falling to the floor.
"Rothius, I give you my permission to go."
Alarmed, Rothius readied himself for the news.
"Warped here. . . hurry. . . marauders. . . almost there. . ."
The Dark Elf limped lifeless in Nick's arm.
Nick threw a warp stone towards Rothius, who caught it with his left hand.
"Go. Your wife needs you, friend. I shall give you back your freedom, but do return here should you feel like it."
Rothius nodded, his eyes burning with resolve.
"I can never pay you back enough, friend. I thank you for your help for all this time. Forgive me!"
Activating the warp stone, he teleported straight to the heart of the Dark Elves' kingdom.
What he saw made his blood boil.
The castle was defiled, and corpses of Dark Elves littered the road.
Fear gripped his heart on seeing all of it.
"My God."