Explosions echoed all around us. The enemy created a new kind of weapon, some kind of portable explosion. The things were stronger than five kegs of gunpowder, yet smaller than one. They were launched into our stronghold, and slowly but surely, we were killed. Some died from the initial blast. Others died buried in rubble.
Me? I stood my ground. When they invaded, I stayed in the front lines, defending the castle with my trusty great sword. I swung it around as hard and as fast as I could, using my last ten years of experience to stay alive. I ran many through my sword, seeing each and every single face curl into anguish. I decapitated over a hundred men and saw each and every single one of their faces shift into confusion as their world tilted. I chopped off thousands of limbs. I pushed many off the walls into the sea of corpses below.
I killed men.
Women.
Even children.
All for the kingdom, all for the glory of my king.
I am a murderer.
I told myself that what I was doing was just. That I fought, maimed, killed and more for a good reason. That my king wouldn't let us die for nothing, that our kingdom NEEDED to fight. That without a war, our kingdom would never prosper.
I knew the truth, the real reason we were fighting. It was a simple territorial dispute that evolved into a war. The two lords decided that our peace lasted too long, and let their greed lead tens of thousands to their death. The reason the two isn't for expansion, for glory, or even for revenge, anymore. It has become nothing more than a measure of pride, to see which one would surrender first.
Silence reigned over the battlefield. It took a moment, but I noticed that the enemies stopped invading. We did it! As our soldiers all realized what has happened, we began to cheer. We kept the stronghold safe! We were victorious! We cheered with renewed energy. Bleeding soldiers danced. Weary soldiers laughed. Silent soldiers smiled.
I was tempted to join them, the relief of living another day nearly overwhelmed me! But something was wrong. We fought for five months, our castle under siege constantly. It was only today these new explosives were thrown at us. Why? I was given my answer soon enough. In the sky, I saw it. Countless of those tiny explosives were in the sky, launched at our base from an unknown origin. As they fell, their shadows grew, and soon every soldier was looking up.
There was no way to survive it. These things could tear apart walls like nothing, and the number of them in the sky was well past a hundred. We were doomed.
However, I stood tall. I had to say something. I cleared my throat. "My fellow knights!" All eyes turned towards me. "We have done enough! We have held this stronghold for so long, so well, the enemy doesn't even want it anymore!" A few knights chuckled. "They would rather sit afar and let their fancy tools do the work when they couldn't!" Resigned smiles began to bloom across their faces. "We fought and won! We stopped those bastards from entering this stronghold, gave our everything to stop them at our door!" Soldiers began cheering. The explosives were right above us. "And now, we can rest! Know that even when the sky was bleak, when the river ran with our blood and food became nil, we stood strong!" The knights, my comrades, gave me warm smiles. "I'm proud of each and every single one of you. I wish you all the best after life God can give." The explosives hit, drowning out our cheers and lives.
I, Sir Albin, died defending the Centerwood Stronghold from the Rilstrom Kingdom.
"If I was king…" I thought in my last moments, "I would fight with my people, rather than fight using them." As the explosives tore the stronghold, and me, apart, I let the darkness take me. "If only I was king…"
Darkness consumed me.
Then darkness gave way for light. I reached out, my hand trying to grasp the light. It continued to grow, bright enough to consumed the darkness. So bright, I shut my eyes to not damage my vision. Then, I opened my eyes. Instead of the darkness of hell or the brightness of light, I was in some kind of room. The light above me was a warm yellow, and I realized that my hand was reaching out to it. "Why is my hand so… small?"
"Congratulations, Your Majesty. It's a boy." I snapped my head over to the voice and saw a giant! The man could pick me up with his hands if he wished!
Suddenly, the words the man said registered in my mind. Right as they did, another man spoke. "Excellent! He shall be the heir to the Clover Kingdom! Rightfully so as my son and successor!" His voice, loud and powerful, was heard by all.
"...What?"
It turns out, reincarnation exists, and perhaps fate does as well. That day, when I died in battle, I was reborn as Augustus Kira Clover XIII, the heir to the throne of the Clover Kingdom and future king.
"...WHAT?!"
"Oh look Your Majesty, he's crying! That means he's a healthy young boy!"