Chapter 4

            The destruction of his village, the destruction of his past, and the partial destruction of his homeland, Zaibach. Ever since he had woken in this world there had been nothing but destruction. Was this what he was destined for? That everything around him shall crumble to dust? That people shall die around him in helpless fear? What was he to do with such a fate? A fate that the gods would show no pity to relieve him of.

            The thoughts continued to dance within Dilandau's head. Endless questions and not a single answer for any one of them. He tried to solve them with the information that the General had given him. All he knew was that an enemy invaded his homeland and that his village was destroyed, along with it his memory. What did Zaibach, or his village do to bring such an attack down upon him. He wanted to grieve for his loss friends and family, but it is hard to grieve for whom you never even know existed in the first place.

            He continued to lie on the bed. He turned his head and looked at his uniform. A blue uniform, symbolizing Zaibach's endless courage. He hoped that he would be able to wear the uniform with as much courage as those who wore it before him. He looked next to the costume and saw a sword. Its gleam and beauty excited him. He couldn't wait to learn how to use such an instrument. He shall become a great swordsman and he shall surely cover it with the blood and entrails of his enemies.

            He took hold of his blade. It felt familiar to him, as if it was a detachable piece of himself. He moved it, though it looked clumsy and looked like an amateur he marveled at how it could look in his mind. He smiled at how it will look when in battle. Though it would be years before he would be a full-fledged solder of Zaibach, he would have that thought of battle in his mind.

He held his sword high and brought forth a vision of a battle. Zaibach against the murderers who had attacked his village. He could see the sun shining on such a glorious day, the wind gave a gentle breeze, and the grass grew as if it was just another day. He stood there, in command of an elite force of 13 warriors. He wore his blue suit with pride and raised his sword.

His enemies growl at him, jealous of the achievement he had succeeded in making. They were barbarous and cruel. They wore skins of dead animals and their helmets were nothing more than skulls of the innocent that they had killed. They waved their swords and pounded their chest to scare away the courageous Dilandau, but he would not even flinch from their might.

Dilandau, with his red eyes, glared back at the savages and gave them pity. He pitied them for having to die on a wonderful day such as this and ruthlessly by his blade. He continued to hold his sword high. "Prepare yourselves, my men, for we shall take vengeance against those who dared to make our lives end early. We shall bathe today with their blood and bring forth a new era so strong that the gods themselves shall pause and look down on our glory. Do not fear death, for it shall not be on you if you put your courage to this life. If they escape follow them and slaughter them. Do not let a single one survive, as they wouldn't have given us the chance if they found us. Charge!"

Dilandau threw his sword to the ground. His elite force gave a yell and charged. Dilandau followed them with his sword to his side. He seemed to move with the speed of the wind. He extended his sword to his side and charged the closest enemy. He swung his sword with such grace and speed that the barbarian didn't even attempt to parry or dodge, but just die.

He moved around and swung his sword with fury killing a man behind him. His movements were as if were a piece of art in motion. It was when an arm grabbed his shoulder. Dilandau turned around going to swing but was caught with a fist.

"What is going on here at this time of night?" A voice screamed. Dilandau opened his eyes and it was General Adelphos.

He wasn't wearing his armor but was still in uniform. His eyes flared with anger and pointed to the wall. Dilandau turned around and saw his chair along with his uniform cut to pieces. Dilandau seemed to have forgotten that it was just his mind creating the battle. Adelphos took the sword away from Dilandau and grumbled.

"You seem hungry for practicing this already. But recklessness shall not be tolerated. For your disappointing behavior you shall be punished by wearing a red uniform, its what people wear when described as reckless. You shall wear it until you are considered to be under control. Now I recommend that you go back to bed, because you shall surely need your rest."

General Adelphos turned around and walked away, taking Dilandau's sword with him.

Dilandau walked to the window and held on to the window. The coldness seemed to have calmed his nerves. Though the battle was imaginary, he could still feel the blood rush to his body. Truly he would experience the thrill of battle sooner or later. He couldn't wait to see the terror and the anguish of his village's destroyers. He shall not let them live with impunity, nor let them die quick.

He looked at the chair and the destroyed uniform. He didn't care for the color anyway. Red seem to be more his nature. He went to his bed and closed his eyes. As the blackness of sleep started to overcome him his last thought gave him a grin: It was he being covered with the blood of his enemies.